Luton's players filed into the locker room.
Even though they had drawn the visiting team's locker room for this match, they found Wembley's facilities far superior to the home locker room at Kenilworth Road. The floor was a sleek, polished hardwood, and the room was lined with custom-built wardrobes and plush leather chairs. Nearby, a row of professional-grade massage tables was set up, while at the back, a sleek set of showers and even a small hydrotherapy pool were installed. Warm water bubbled gently from the center of the pool, circulating through hidden drains along the edges.
"Be careful — sometimes they switch the water to ice-cold without warning," Jeffrey said, nudging Kanter, who was gaping at the pool in awe.
"This is a classic trick some home teams pull on visitors!" Jeffrey added with a mischievous grin.
"You're lucky," another player chimed in. "At Old Trafford, the visitors' locker room is a joke. No proper showers, tiny windows, and the ceilings are so low it feels like you're walking through a basement."
"And when the Emirates Stadium was built," someone else said, "Wenger himself oversaw the design of the visiting dressing room. Made sure it was uncomfortable — cold lighting, hard benches, no frills."
The players exchanged horror stories of away days at football giants' stadiums.
"We're not gonna get stitched up like that today, are we?" Kanter asked nervously, his wide-eyed expression drawing a few laughs.
"Relax," Captain Kevin Keane said, ruffling Kanter's hair. "This is Wembley. Neutral ground. Both locker rooms are built to the same high standards. Even if there are small differences, nothing dirty will happen here."
Kanter breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He had been dreaming of soaking in that hot pool for days.
But now wasn't the time — assistant coach John Aston was already barking orders.
"Let's go! Kit up and lace your boots! You've got thirty minutes! Move it, move it!" Aston's voice, seasoned by twenty years on the job, echoed around the room. It was the first time he had to shout like that at Wembley, but today wasn't just any match.
The players hurried to get ready, then filed out into the tunnel.
The noise outside was deafening — the stands were packed, split into a sea of red and white for Arsenal, and orange and blue for Luton Town. A river of sound ran through the stadium.
Ethan, Luton's manager, didn't follow them immediately. He stayed behind in the locker room, finishing up some final preparations.
He had just received Arsenal's official starting XI — no major surprises, but one notable change up front. Van Persie, who had supposedly been ruled out injured last week, was starting after all, partnering Adebayor up top.
Arshavin was also in the eleven, likely operating as a right winger, while Nasri slotted in on the left. The midfield double pivot consisted of Alex Song and the Spanish maestro Cesc Fàbregas.
Ethan frowned slightly. Arsenal's midfield and attack were stacked today. Their bench wasn't weak either — Walcott, Bendtner, Denílson, Vela, and the recently fit-again Diaby were all available as reinforcements.
In defense, Wenger had shown his typical bravery: young goalkeeper Łukasz Fabiański was between the posts. The center-backs were Kolo Touré and Mikaël Silvestre. Gibbs started at left-back, and Eboué at right-back.
Barring a few injuries, this was close to Arsenal's best possible lineup.
Ethan quickly updated the tactical board, sketching Arsenal's likely 4-4-2 formation.
Luton had been preparing for this day for weeks. No matter how Arsenal tweaked their lineup, they had plans ready to counter.
He opened his thick, battered notebook — page after page filled with tactical notes, reminders, and counter-strategies. He scribbled a few more updates based on the final lineup, underlining Van Persie's name several times.
Then, he opened the system interface only he could see: the football card system.
No new missions or rewards this time — disappointing, but expected. Big opponents like Chelsea or Arsenal only triggered rewards on first encounters.
Maybe there's a reward if we win the final, Ethan thought.
But that was a thought for later. For now, he equipped the crucial card he had been saving:
[Game Card (Blue): Interception Success Rate +15%]
This card was the centerpiece of his strategy. Without it, Luton's pressing and midfield pressure would likely collapse against Arsenal's superior technical ability.
With it, they had a fighting chance.
Ethan took a deep breath, stood up, and walked out of the locker room.
It was time.
Players are the foundation of any tactical setup.
Next, Ethan selected three important game cards to fine-tune his team.
[Game Card (Yellow): Heading ability +7%, designated player: "Jeffrey"]
[Game Card (Yellow): Shooting technique +6%, designated player: "Valdi"]
These two cards were standard in Ethan's tactical arsenal. But the third card he chose was even more valuable — a reward for his string of recent victories.
[Match Card (Yellow): Save success rate +7%, designated player: "Claude Rondo"]
Ethan had been eyeing this card for a long time. A strong goalkeeper often makes up half the strength of a team. While Claude Rondo's overall ability wasn't top-tier in Ethan's eyes, the English goalkeeper had excellent reflexes and agility on the line. Because of this, Ethan had trusted Rondo as his first-choice keeper.
Arsenal were not a side known for defense; their hallmark was their fluid, attacking football. And facing a lower-league side like Luton, Arsène Wenger would never lower himself to play a purely defensive counter-attacking game.
Ethan was certain of that. So for Luton, the game plan was clear: first contain Arsenal's attack, then look for opportunities to strike back.
"Do you know your mission?"
The players had just finished their warm-up and were gathered around. Ethan stood before Hassan Ali, the promising youngster he had recently promoted from the academy. He looked the boy straight in the eyes.
"Defend from the front!" Hassan Ali answered loudly, standing behind Jamie.
Ethan nodded firmly. "Remember — pressing high up the pitch as if you were defending your own penalty area. Force them into mistakes!"
"Understood, boss!" Hassan Ali replied with conviction.
If they were going to defend, it had to be done thoroughly!
Arsenal's team was packed with young talent. If allowed to play their smooth passing game and gain rhythm, even Luton's most organized defense would be hard-pressed to hold out.
But Ethan's idea of defending wasn't just sitting deep and parking the bus. Luton would defend from the front — pressing aggressively, disrupting Arsenal's build-up play from the very first pass.
Arsenal were masters of short passing and combination play, using quick ground passes to slice through defenses. Ethan, learning from his experiments in previous matches, decided to employ high pressing — perfectly aligned with Luton's philosophy of collective defending. A coordinated press from the front line could shake even a technically skilled team like Arsenal.
Hassan Ali was deployed almost like a second striker — a shadow forward whose primary role wasn't to attack but to harass Arsenal's defenders and defensive midfielders.
It wasn't because of Hassan's offensive qualities — if he had any to speak of.
Ethan's goal was simple: make Arsenal's backline uncomfortable, disrupt their rhythm, and ideally sever the link between their defense and midfield. Cut off the supply, and you starve the attack.
"Danny! You have more freedom to roam!" Ethan called out to Danny Drinkwater, his box-to-box engine. Then he turned to the whole team.
"Collectively! Always think collectively! Press as a unit, fall back as a unit!"
That had been Ethan's mantra at Luton from day one.
Attack wasn't just the responsibility of the forwards; defense wasn't just for the back four.
Defense started from the front.