That's it.

  Gao Shen stood calmly in front of the visiting team's coag area, outwardly posed as though indifferent to the events unfolding och. But inside, he felt a deep sense of satisfa. He couldn't help but feel like he had returo the Bernabeu as a hero.

  Tonight, he had emphatically proven his coag credentials to the Real Madrid faithful.

  He still remembered when he left Real Madrid, how some had fought to keep him, while others questioned his ability. Over the past two or three years, he had silenced most of the doubters with his outstanding achievements. Yet, there were still a few diehards who dismissed his success, saying: "If you're really that good, e back to the Bernabeu and prove it!"

  Well, now he was back.

  And no one could have imagihat Real Madrid would no longer be able to match his level.

  Gao Shen was holy surprised by how the game pyed out tonight. The opening twenty minutes were within his expectations, but what followed? pletely ued.

  Where was Schuster's tactical awareness? As a head coach, wasn't he supposed to know his team i?

  After g the first goal, how could Schuster nnize Napoli's game pn? How could he fail to see the calcuted strategy behind it?

  Even if he missed it in the first half, what about the sed?

  But no. He remained obstinate. And football doesn't five stubbornness.

  Without the ability to back it up, stubbornness only accelerates your downfall.

  Gao Shen g the clock. There were still more than ten minutes left. He turo the bend called out to Parejo and Callejon, signaling them to warm up.

  "o warm up, boss! We're ready!" Parejo replied with a wide grin, his excitement barely tained.

  Gao Shen froze for a moment, puzzled by their enthusiasm. Why were these two so eager?

  Would this turn into another situation like Eto'o or Morientes, where former pyers hauheir old clubs?

  "Take it slow. Don't get too carried away," Gao Shen warhem.

  As for tactical specifics? At this point, was there even a need? Napoli had pletely subdued Real Madrid. Although the home team occasionally mounted terattacks, they barely posed any threat.

  Higuain and Van Nistelrooy were isoted, with Raul valiantly trying to link the two together. But Napoli's defense was pact, f Real Madrid to py in the wide areas. Even now, they hadn't e up with a respoo Napoli's tactics.

  Was this really a terattag threat? Unless Napoli made a catastrophic mistake, there was little for them to fear.

  Even David Luiz, often the most uable pyer och, ying it safe tonight. The significe of the game wasn't lost on him or the rest of the team.

  Gao Shen gnced again at Parejo and Callejon. He had promised them before the match that if things went well, they would get their ce to py in front of their home fans. With Real Madrid now fielding three defensive midfielders, there shouldn't be much risk, right?

  After a brief moment of hesitation, Gao Shen made the substitutions.

  ---

  Parejo repced Rakitic, who had been excellent.

  Callejon repced Di Maria, aandout performer.

  The two young pyers stepped onto the Bernabeu pitch brimming with energy, eager to make their mark.

  Immediately, Napoli's ball trol improved.

  Parejo, in particur, impressed with his teical finesse. His ability to hold the ball, dribble, and pass with precision caught everyone's attention. His vision and delicate touches elevated Napoli's midfield py.

  Callejon was equally dynamic. His dribbling and movement off the ball showed fidence, and he made himself a stant option for his teammates.

  Iands, the sight of these two former Real Madrid pyers shining for Napoli stung the home fans.

  "Napoli's substitutes are pying with extra motivation against their old club," a entator observed.

  "It's no surprise. Former Real Madrid pyers often perform well when fag Real Madrid. It's happened so often that the club ter started including cuses in loan deals to prevent such sarios."

  "These two didn't make an impact at Real Madrid and never got a the first team. But at Napoli, they've bee valuable squad pyers, delivering sistently strong performances."

  "Tonight, they're clearly determio prove themselves in front of the Bernabeu faithful. Maybe they're hoping Real Madrid will take notid give them another the future."

  With the introdu of three defensive midfielders, Real Madrid's defense finally stabilized.

  While they were still on the back foot, at least they weren't g as they had earlier ich. The pace slowed, and Napoli's attag waves became less frequent.

  This wasn't due to any brillian Schuster's part, but rather the nature of Napoli easing off with the scoreline so lopsided. Real Madrid had shown they could defend but only if their tactics were correct.

  So why had they ceded six goals in the first pce?

  That question would have to be answered by Schuster.

  ---

  As time ticked away, her team showed i in using their final substitution.

  Real Madrid's pyers were defted. Being torn apart at home was a disaster, and they had lost all belief. For them, just holding on until the final whistle was a victory of sorts.

  But for Parejo and Callejon, this was a golden opportunity. The two substitutes pyed with iy, eager to leave their mark.

  Ih minute, Real Madrid intercepted the ball in their defehird and passed it to Gago.

  The Argentine midfielder carried the ball forward, looking to spark a terattack. But before he could make much progress, Parejo closed in and pressed him.

  Gago hesitated. Instead of passing quickly, he tried to shake off Parejo with a sudden turn.

  It was a mistake. Parejo lunged and poked the ball away, leaving Gago spinning in pce while the ball was already gone.

  Parejo seized the loose ball and threaded a precise through pass between Ramos and avaro, targeting the spaapoli had exploited all night.

  Callejon sprinted into the gap, outrunning avaro. The veteran defender, desperate to stop him, lunged for the ball but mistimed his tackle.

  Callejo down ihe penalty area, and the referee immediately poio the spot.

  The Bernabeu erupted in boos. It wasn't clear whether the jeers were aimed at avaro, Callejon, or the referee, but the frustration alpable.

  The referee booked avaro with a yellow card, but the Italian defender didn't argue. He simply turned and walked away, shoulders slumped.

  ---

  On the sidelines, Gao Shen stared in disbelief as the penalty was awarded.

  He turo Zidane and Carlo, who both shook their heads with wry smiles.

  "I swear I've already gone easy on them," Gao Shen muttered.

  But Real Madrid's pyers couldn't stop pounding their own misery.

  Take Gago, for example. Oouted as the Redondo, he had lost his way. He was her a midfield maestro nor a defensive enforcer.

  And Schuster's insisten using him as a defensive workhorse had stunted his development.

  Now, instead of being the team's creative fulcrum, Gago was fumbling in a role he was never meant to py.

  "It's out of my hands," Gao Shen said with a shrug, turning back to the bench.

  "I'd like to score fewer goals, but my strength doesn't allow it," he joked, drawing bitter ughs from Zidane and Carlo.

  Real Madrid's performaonight was abysmal, and even the coag staff could only shake their heads in disbelief.

  ---

  Parejo, the architect of the penalty, stepped up to take the spot kick.

  Fag Casils, Parejo remained posed. The referee blew the whistle, and Parejo sent a precise shot into the bottht er.

  Casils guessed wrong and dived in the opposite dire.

  "GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!"

  7-0!!!

  Sparse appuse began to ripple through the Bernabeu. It started hesitantly but quickly grew louder as more fans joined in.

  Within moments, the remaining fans were on their feet, g in unison.

  The appuse was a bittersweet symphony.

  It was sarcastic, directed at Real Madrid's dismal performance, from the ma to the coag staff to the pyers. But it was also a standing ovation fao Shen and Napoli, aowledging their mastercss.

  No one had expected such a historic victory. Napoli had shattered records and handed Real Madrid their worst home defeat in history.

  As the final whistle approached, Napoli's pyers stood tall, soaking in the appuse of the legendary Bernabeu.

  For them, this night would be unfettable.