Chapter 721 133: A 17-Second Wonder Goal! Epic Comeback! Watch Out, Wang Shuo Is Here! We Witnessed a Miracle

Immediately after, Koscielny somehow deflected the ball right into his own net. Another own goal! 4-2! It was exactly the 68th minute! The Blackburn fans at Ewood Park Stadium went absolutely wild with joy! They couldn't believe it even if it killed them—the Arsenal players were continuously handing out gifts. Two own goals, a failed offside trap, and a defensive blunder on a corner kick. This was no longer just an ordinary defeat. It was an absolute rout!

***

Wenger made consecutive substitutions! Vermaelen came on for Traore, and Pogba replaced Jenkinson. After the two changes, Arsenal shifted to a three-center-back formation, amassing their forces in the midfield. Arteta dropped back to form a double pivot with Alexandre Song, sitting behind the pairing of Pogba and De Bruyne. Through these substitutions, Wenger made his resolve crystal clear to the players on the pitch: he would never give up!

But the rain pouring down on Blackburn was only getting heavier, and time ticked away second by second. Even after the substitutions, Arsenal still couldn't muster any spirit. Conceding three goals in such a short span was a massive blow to the team, especially considering the manner in which they were conceded. Let alone the fact that Arsenal was never good at playing from behind; even a team like Manchester United would likely crumble if placed in Arsenal's current predicament.

"It's the 80th minute. We still have one substitution left," Pat Rice reminded.

Wenger's suit was completely soaked, and water squished inside his leather shoes, but he no longer cared. "No more subs. There's no one left to change!" he said forcefully through gritted teeth.

Pat Rice understood what Wenger meant. In a football match, some things were more important than three points—like the players' confidence and morale. An own goal was already a huge blow to a player, so Wenger refused to sub off Alexandre Song and Koscielny. This was his way of showing his trust in his players; the own goals were just accidents. However, it was obvious that Traore and Jenkinson had already been frozen out by him. It was just that they truly had no one else for the full-back positions!

The three goals conceded in the second half were like three meat cleavers, hacking mercilessly at Arsenal's spine, which had only just managed to straighten up. Especially after their 5-4 away loss to Manchester United, which had allowed the Gunners to go down fighting and win universal acclaim. But what about now? Facing the bottom-of-the-table team, they had actually conceded four goals, and in such a humiliating fashion.

Wenger dreaded to imagine how the media and fans would report on and criticize the team after today's loss. At that thought, he squeezed the uncapped water bottle he had just taken from Pat Rice so hard that water overflowed, spilling all over his hands.

On the pitch, his players looked like a troop of soldiers lost in a forest. Passing errors occurred constantly, and as their stamina dropped, their movements grew sluggish. Most importantly, their eyes lacked that winning resolve and conviction! In the match against Manchester United, Wenger had seen a spark in their eyes. But now, they were utterly dim and listless!

He wondered, "Are we really going to lose?"

Wenger fiercely smashed the crushed water bottle onto the ground, SPLASHING water everywhere.

"Keep attacking! Forward! Forward!" Wenger rushed to the sidelines and shouted.

But the only response he got was the players' exhausted gazes and clumsy footsteps. Their legs seemed weighed down by heavy shackles, making it difficult for them to even step forward.

He thought, "Sure enough... We still aren't good enough, are we?"

Wenger tilted his head back, letting the rain fall on his face and slide down its weathered creases. He was tired too! So incredibly tired!

***

In the 85th minute, after intercepting the ball in their own half, Blackburn immediately launched a counterattack. Yakubu, who had been extremely active this match, received a pass from midfielder Nzonzi. Facing Koscielny, he used his pace to force a breakthrough. The unsettled French center-back was bypassed with ease.

He cursed inwardly, "Damn it! There's a massive expanse of open space behind me!"

Yakubu surged forward with the ball, ecstatic. He had already scored a brace. As long as he scored one more, it would be a hat-trick! A hat-trick against Arsenal! And a hat-trick scored right under Wang Shuo's nose! Yakubu firmly believed this would skyrocket his reputation and truly make a name for himself! This spurred the Nigerian forward to pump his legs even faster and harder.

"It's over!"

"Another one-on-one chance for Blackburn!"

"This goal will inevitably kill the game once and for all!"

The Gunners fans who had traveled north to support the team couldn't bear to watch this cruel scene.

"No!"

The stadium was a cacophony of surprised cheers from the Blackburn fans and horrified screams from the Arsenal supporters.

But right at the edge of the live broadcast camera frame, a red figure was continuously sprinting like a bolt of lightning. The moment Blackburn intercepted the ball, he had started tracking back all the way from the front line. When Nzonzi passed to Yakubu, he crossed the midfield line. When Yakubu burst past Koscielny to create a one-on-one, he swept past his own defensive line in hot pursuit. He chased desperately.

Sweat mixed with rain dripped down his face, but his eyes were locked onto Yakubu ahead, staring him down like a cheetah eyeing its prey on the African savanna.

"Wang Shuo!!"

"He's tracking back to defend!"

When the twenty-nine-year-old Yakubu dribbled into Arsenal's thirty-meter zone, Wang Shuo burst into the broadcast frame for the first time—and he had already caught up right behind Yakubu.