February 13th, inside the mansion.
"Time flies so fast."
After finishing speed training with Davis, Maël went to the schedule and casually crossed out the first three games of the month.
Of the seven games this month, only the last four remained, and the title-deciding battle at the end of the month was also approaching.
He looked at the words 'EFL Cup Final', and at the 'Wembley' stadium written on the match venue, and couldn't help but feel nervous and excited.
This was his first title-deciding battle in a first-tier event, and also his first cup title-deciding battle!
As long as he managed to win the EFL Cup as desired, his debut season in the top league would have a guaranteed major honor.
If he could also lift the Premier League trophy at the end of the season, that would be a double crown!
This would definitely be a very dazzling start, a resounding shot announcing his arrival to the English Football World, and also symbolizing his formal entry into the 'best' competition!
Even having reached this point, the final crucial stage.
The word 'retreat' didn't exist in Maël's dictionary, he would continue to calm down, strive to overcome all the difficulties he encountered, and finally complete his vision.
"I have an idea."
Davis, watching the flickering fire of desire in Maël's eyes, chuckled, "Is it because you played so well in your debut season in the EFL Championship at the age of 17, that you want to keep doing so well from now on?
"To keep walking down this path that has already established an 'unusual' tone, and no longer accept mediocrity?"
Maël nodded and turned to walk towards the living room, "You could say that."
"Isn't that putting too much pressure on yourself?" Davis followed behind him, continuing, "That means you have to perform better and achieve more every season than the last.
"Almost no player can do that, even the top superstars' form fluctuates, just more stable than ordinary players."
Maël came to the living room and sat on the sofa, smiling slightly, "You're right, but I'm clearly still on the rise, this is far from my limit.
"As long as I persist in training, making myself better every day than the day before, and keeping myself constantly improving and growing, I can definitely offset the fluctuations in form."
He closed one eye and moved his right index finger upwards from a point in front of him, "By then, even if there are fluctuations between months, overall, I'm still moving upwards.
"This can be seen from the increase in my value, 8m-20m-30m-45m-70m.
"Maybe in the intervals between each update, I will experience fluctuations in form, but I will never stop climbing upwards."
He was very talkative today, which came from the sense of accomplishment gained from the constant positive feedback on all fronts, giving him confidence and making him feel happy.
Sometimes people are suddenly full of energy and the urge to talk, feeling like everything is getting better.
"You're very confident." Davis looked at Maël and smiled like an auntie, they, the people around him, admired and loved this sunny young man very much.
"Yes." Maël generously admitted, he smiled brightly, "I have always been confident."
That night, his good brother Gilbert, after the latest update of his value, seemed unable to restrain himself and came to London from Sheffield.
Maël and Isabella, arm in arm, looked down from the window of a private room in a high-end restaurant, searching for Gilbert's figure.
They also wanted to see how well-known he was in London, and whether anyone would recognize him.
"You two"
A voice sounded from behind them, startling them, and when they turned around, they found that Gilbert had already come up.
He looked at the intimate appearance of the two, stunned for a moment, but quickly smiled mischievously, "What's the relationship now?"
"How didn't I see you?"
Maël wasn't in a hurry to answer his question, and came to the table from the window to sit down, "Did you turn invisible? Is this an ability developed on the field?"
Gilbert paused, reacted, and waved his hand dismissively, "Get lost!"
Isabella giggled twice beside him, turned her head to observe Maël beside her, and took the initiative to answer Gilbert's question just now, "Female companion, that's how some people describe the relationship between him and me."
Gilbert's gaze swept back and forth across their faces, and after not finding anything unusual, he first called the waiter to order.
"It's my treat today." He looked in a good mood, beaming, "Don't underestimate me, I'm about to get a raise too."
"Okay." Maël looked at his good brother's appearance and was happy for him, "Then let's celebrate properly today, want to have a couple of drinks?"
"Alright."
Gilbert got up to fetch the wine from outside, returning shortly with a 1.5-liter keg of craft brew. "Once we finish this, the next time we drink will be at the end of the season, hopefully to celebrate staying up."
"Same here," Maël said with a smile and a nod. "Hopefully, to celebrate a double crown."
Gilbert poured the wine into glasses, shrugging without a word, seemingly no longer wanting to dwell on the difference in their growth speed and the gap between them now.
With this update to his market value, his price had reached 25 million euros, but the difference between him and Maël was growing ever larger, now standing at 45 million.
"But..." He seemed to remember something, looking up again. "Maël, do you remember the first time our market values were updated? Back then, I was at 3.5 million, and you were at 8 million. The difference between us was 4.5 million."
"Now, a little over a year later, our values have both increased nearly tenfold... and the difference has also increased tenfold, which means my rate of improvement isn't any slower than yours."
Maël paused, not understanding this strange calculation, and laughed twice. "If you put it that way, it doesn't seem to be a problem."
Gilbert poured him a glass of wine and handed it over, continuing, "As Arsenal's 93-generation youth academy's twin stars, the combined value of you and me has reached 95 million euros."
"And together, we've put up a terrifying 31 goals and 20 assists in the Premier League this season. Cheers to this great achievement!"
"Haha..."
Laughter filled the private room, and all three of them laughed heartily before raising their glasses for a toast.
The food arrived quickly, and they chatted and drank, soon feeling a bit tipsy, and the atmosphere became livelier.
"The team already has 32 points this season. With about 8 more points, there will basically be no pressure to stay up."
Gilbert held his glass, his face filled with anticipation. "Next season, I'll officially return to the team. I hope to get some playing time and fulfill the scene I've always imagined, wearing the Arsenal jersey and fighting alongside you."
Before Maël could respond, he continued, "Good luck with the title contention battle at the end of this month. I'll come to watch then."
"I hope you can use your goals to help Arsenal easily defeat Cardiff City and end the seven-year trophy drought."
"If you can accomplish that, you'll definitely become a hero of this team."
"I'll come too," Isabella raised her hand, tilting her small head and smiling. "The moment you guys made it to the final, I booked a box at Wembley Stadium, so I'm well-prepared."
"I think you'll definitely win. I'll bring a high-definition camera that day to take photos of you lifting the trophy."
"Haha..."
Maël couldn't help but laugh at their blessings, hoping the match at the end of the month would arrive quickly.
He picked up his glass and clinked it against theirs. "Thank you, I'll work hard, and strive for us to celebrate together at Wembley Stadium after the match."
After the meal, the three of them went downstairs, preparing to say goodbye.
"I'll stay for one night before leaving." Gilbert pointed to the hotel next door, then quickly waved his hand at Maël, anticipating his response. "Don't invite me to your place. I don't want to be a third wheel."
Isabella gently bit her inner lip, her expression slightly unnatural, turning her head slightly to observe Maël.
Maël looked in Gilbert's direction, laughing. "Why would I? We're not at that stage yet."
A hint of disappointment flashed across Isabella's face. She quickly turned her head to smile at Gilbert, hooking her arm around Maël's. "I told you, I'm just his female companion for now."
"I'll let you know when there are any major developments, haha... just kidding."
She was still bright and passionate, sometimes with a bit of quirky cuteness.
"Alright." Gilbert shook his head, indicating disbelief. He waved goodbye decisively. "See you at the end of the month. I'm leaving, not disturbing you any longer."
He turned and left, leaving Maël and Isabella in place.
Isabella had been exposed to a cold wind, sobering up a bit. The arm she was holding onto Maël with was slightly stiff, unsure whether to pull it away or hold on tighter.
Thinking that this was fine, she moved her long legs closer to Maël, looking towards the street to admire the colorful neon lights of central London.
"It's quite beautiful, especially after the rain."
A smile reappeared on her face, and the colorful lights flashing everywhere sometimes shone on her face, making her features more defined, yet still retaining her softness, truly a beauty.
Isabella seemed to enjoy sharing this brief moment of peace and comfort with Maël. The smile on her face lingered, gradually growing more blissful.
Suddenly, she felt Maël's arm move, seemingly pulling upwards.
Just as she thought he was about to pull his arm away, she felt a cool sensation on her hand. It was Maël's hand holding hers.
Isabella: "!!!"
She puffed out her chest and raised her head, a strong joy rising in her heart, her whole being seeming to be injected with new vitality.
"Let's take a walk."
Maël was wearing a hoodie under his jacket. He flipped the hood of the hoodie up and pulled Isabella along as he walked forward.
"Okay." Isabella smiled sweetly, took two steps forward with Maël, and took the opportunity to interlock her fingers with Maël's as they crossed the zebra crossing, "To warm you up."
Feeling Maël's hand also exert a little force, she couldn't suppress her emotions even more, feeling that the air around her had become fresher.
She pretended to turn her head to look at the other side, but actually snickered. After walking two more steps, she couldn't help but swing her right hand slightly, "Maël, if we win the championship at the end of the month, let's go ride the London Eye Ferris wheel, okay?"
"I don't know if I'll have time." Maël wasn't sure, giving a vague answer.
"Then I'll make a reservation in advance." Isabella smiled cheerfully, and advised, "Come on, the schedule is so busy on weekdays, it's good to relax occasionally.
"Although I can't help you with anything else, I can take you to have fun. I know all the best food, the best places to play, and the most interesting places in London.
"If you hang out with me for a day, I guarantee you'll go home happy!"
Like a silver-tongued salesman waiting, she raised her chin and turned to look at Maël after she finished speaking, "How about it? Want to give it a try?"
Maël looked at her and smiled lightly. His heart seemed to be attracted by the beauty she described. After considering it, he said, "Okay, but the premise is winning the championship. If, if we don't win, then..."
"Oh, no way." Isabella blocked his words, swinging her hand even more, sometimes she couldn't help but take two small steps, "Ta-da! Ta-da!"
The two walked like this for a long time, seemingly forgetting their fatigue, until they said goodbye and went home very late.
...
On February 15th, the 26th round of the Premier League was played at Sunderland's home stadium, the Stadium of Light.
Sunderland can be considered a team that had a rich history, having won the top league title 6 times. It is also one of the oldest teams in the English Football World.
Now they no longer have the glory of the past, but they can be considered a mid-range team, ranking 12th in the league, with no worries about relegation.
"AahhOh!"
"AahhOh!"
The match started at 7:30 p.m. that day. Arsenal sent out their main players, not daring to be careless away from home.
In this match, Maël was up against Manchester United veteran O'Shea, an experienced defender who had played for Manchester United.
In fact, Sunderland's defense was almost entirely moved from Manchester United. Three of the four players had played for Manchester United. This team can be considered as taking over the mess of Manchester United's transition between old and new players, picking up old players behind their backs.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
As soon as the match started, Maël constantly got opportunities to hold the ball and advance, breaking through the aging O'Shea and Richardson on the same side.
Occasionally, they could successfully defend with their excellent experience, limiting his breakthroughs, passes, and shots.
But most of the time, they could only rely on fouls and small moves.
In the 18th minute of the match, Richardson next to O'Shea received a yellow card, and his defensive movements became restrained.
In the 34th minute, O'Shea himself also received a yellow card, which greatly increased the defensive pressure on this side.
Helplessly, Sunderland could only send more people to help defend, but this could only be considered robbing Peter to pay Paul. Soon, it gave Walcott an opportunity on the other side.
"Bang!!"
In the 61st minute of the second half, Walcott broke into the penalty area and made a horizontal pass. Ramsey, who came in to meet the ball at the near post, slid and shoveled the ball into the near corner.
One to zero!
Scoring first!
"Bang!"
However, only 9 minutes passed, and Sunderland scored a sudden goal through a corner kick, returning the favor.
One to one!
Arsenal's set-piece defense has always had some problems. After Mertesacker arrived, this problem was not alleviated.
There was really no way to solve this. Set pieces themselves are an important scoring method for weak teams to play against strong teams.
They have set-piece training classes every week, using this scoring method with great skill, and it is not surprising to score through it.
"Withdraw!"
The Sunderland team, having equalized, quickly retreated across the board, huddling in front of the penalty area in a tight defensive formation.
With O'Shea and several veterans directing, their defense appeared solid, not allowing Arsenal to create any significant opportunities.
The tie persisted until the 89th minute when Van Persie, who had been performing excellently this season, finally picked up his 'Mr. Clutch' script.
"Boom, boom, boom."
"Boom!"
On the wing, Maël, after receiving the ball, was surrounded by three players. He skillfully broke free and sent a short pass to Van Persie in the center, then turned and darted behind the opponent's defense.
Van Persie originally prepared to deliver a through ball to the flank, but at the moment of passing, he paused for some reason, lowering his left leg.
When he struck again, his calf and ankle exerted force, changing direction and pushing the ball towards the far corner of the goal.
A sneaky shot!
"Boom, thump."
The football flew from his foot, bounced once inside the penalty area, and rolled towards the goal. The ball speed wasn't too fast, but it was too sudden, not giving the goalkeeper time to react.
By the time Belgian second-choice goalkeeper Mignolet dove to save, it was too late.
The football bounced and rolled into the far corner, completing the crucial strike in the most understated way.
Game-winning goal!
1 point turned into 3! "Ahght!"
The goal might have been unremarkable, but everything after the goal was anything but. The Arsenal away fans at the Stadium of Light waved their hands and jumped in the stands, celebrating the game-winning goal in a frenzy.
21 wins! Van Persie spread his arms like a roc spreading its wings, a faint smile on his face, looking very dashing.
"You kid!"
"Beautiful!"
"Having you and Maël is truly our blessing, we're not far from the 26 wins of the 03-04 season!"
"Five-game winning streak!"
The Arsenal players ran towards him together, Alexandre Song and others quickly jumped on his back, and everyone squeezed together in a huddle.
Maël also ran towards him, not expecting to easily get an assist.
So comfortable.
As long as we win!
He came to Van Persie's side, extending his hands and smiling as he gave him a high-five.
"Just be happy you have me," Van Persie laughed, teasing him with the words he used in the previous game.
"Beep! Beep! Beep—!" The game ended quickly. In the end, thanks to goals from Van Persie and Ramsey, Arsenal advanced further! 21 wins and 5 draws! "Olé, olé, olé!"
After the game, everyone returned to the locker room and celebrated wildly. They took off their clothes, waving and jumping while chanting the most familiar melody in the Football World.
Wenger and Philip walked into the locker room together, watching their antics and clapping from the side, chatting quietly.
"68 points," Philip said with a joyful smile, "Almost 70, we're really close."
Wenger nodded slowly, his face beaming, and said, "This month has been great, winning all 4 Premier League games and getting 12 points."
"If we can get another 12 points next month, we might be able to challenge for the title in early April."
"But that should be difficult, it's just wishful thinking, haha..."
Philip shook his head and waved his hand with a wry smile, looking like he was used to hard times. "I dare not think about it, I really dare not think about it."
Wenger looked at the team's momentum and took a long breath, finally making a firm decision. "We need to streamline our efforts. I don't want any more major problems to affect this momentum."
"We must continue to move forward steadily, aiming for the hope of winning two titles!"
"That's the way it should be."
Philip nodded, remembering the matter between Kroenke and Usmanov, his face filled with longing. "If the above really comes to an agreement this time, we will definitely have money at the end of the season."
"At that time, we'll strengthen a few positions and buy some useful substitutes..." He pursed his lips and smiled, seeming to be unable to close his mouth just thinking about what he was going to say. "Next season, we might be able to try our luck in the Champions League, or even compete on multiple fronts."
Wenger didn't speak, but his eyes flickered with a strange brilliance, and his breathing gradually became heavier.
...
On February 17th, Maël was informed that he would not be playing in the FA Cup fifth-round match. He inquired with Van Persie and others, and found that they had also received the same notification.
"They're going to let me go."
Knowing that Wenger had made a decision, he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he increased his training intensity, taking advantage of this time to improve his skills.
"Pa pa... pa!"
That afternoon, after two hours of hard training in Fancy Skills, he felt his legs and ankles become much more agile at a certain moment. His body seemed lighter, and his affinity with the Football had improved.
Opening the proficiency panel, he saw that Fancy Breakthrough had indeed leveled up.
[Skill: Fancy Breakthrough lv3]
[Proficiency: (1/2000)]
[Effect: After a period of practice, you have mastered certain fancy Dribbling Skills and have a chance to use them to break through on the field, but you still seem far from true elegance.]
"Hoo!"
Maël suppressed the excitement in his heart and dribbled the ball forward, pulling it with his left and right feet, sometimes connecting inside and outside step-overs, sometimes flicking the ball up and changing direction in the air with a flick of his ankle.
"Pa pa pa!" His Frequency was already fast, and with his legs becoming more flexible, these movements felt somewhat dazzling.
This wasn't something only defenders could feel; he could feel it himself.
Sometimes, before he could even think about what move to make, his legs were already moving quickly, his center of gravity constantly shifting, his whole body twisting and turning, even his hair flying.
It was a feeling of doing whatever he wanted. Although it was only at a basic level, it allowed him to feel... when he had the ball, the Football seemed to become a part of his body.
The combination of man and ball had improved! The agility when Dribbling had increased!
This was the effect of lv3 Fancy Breakthrough! Stopping his Dribbling, he couldn't help but look forward to the effect of this skill reaching lv4.
Many Football players' favorite star was Ronaldinho, for no other reason than the agility and elegance he displayed on the field, which was an ability they desired but couldn't obtain.
After mastering the basics, building up their physical strength, and accumulating a lot of experience to reach the top level, they worked diligently and gave their all every day.
So, when they saw someone dribbling past others as if it were child's play, as carefree as an elf, and still achieving tactical goals, they were naturally envious.
However, this kind of ability was mostly related to talent, and they couldn't learn it even if they wanted to.
Maël could. Not to say that lv4 Fancy Breakthrough could be compared to Ronaldinho, but it should be about six or seven tenths as good? If the additional skill 'Fancy Skills' also reached lv4, then it would be close enough.
Further on, lv5 would be a step of transcendence, a step towards reaching a new level.
"Let's look at the other skills."
He glanced down, looking at the upgrade progress of his other abilities.
[Skill: Sprint lv4]
[Proficiency: (382/5000)]
[Skill: Brutal Shot lv4]
[Proficiency: (631/2000)]
[Skill: Heading Power lv3]
[Proficiency: (401/800)]
[Additional Skill: Fancy Skills lv1]
[Proficiency: (602/1500)]
The next period might be a relatively difficult period of improvement, with the closest ability to leveling up still needing 400 points of proficiency.
But it's okay, when the next upgrade comes, a truly all-around shooter will arrive!
Lv4 Heading Power would allow him to approach those top Heading masters, and even surpass them with his explosive jumping ability and Coordination in the air.
After that, his Fancy Skills would also reach lv2, and he might be able to master some small skills and occasionally achieve miraculous effects.
"Long Shot is also coming soon."
Maël murmured, feeling that the future was promising. After closing the panel, he took the Football and went home.
He trained at home today, and after entering the house, he lay directly on the sofa, waiting for Safina to feed him.
...
On February 19th, the fifth round of the FA Cup kicked off, with Arsenal's rotated squad heading to Sunderland's Stadium of Light to face the team they had just encountered on another front.
Maël had originally planned to watch the match at home, but he received a call from Kevin Systrom, informing him that the negotiators from Facebook had arrived in London.
He checked the time and, thinking he might be busy in the coming days, contacted the person and arranged to meet at a café in the city center.
...
Twenty minutes later, he arrived at the café, heading straight for the booth.
"Maël!"
"It's him!"
"Ah!"
There were many people in the café, and many showed surprise when they saw him, but no one got up. Everyone seemed to be waiting for the first brave soul.
Maël smiled and nodded at them, then, not giving them a chance to surround him, quickly walked into the booth and closed the door.
"Ross, a British investment banker, representing Facebook to negotiate with you."
A middle-aged man with white hair, wearing a black suit, extended his right hand to him. Beside him were two people wearing glasses, looking like consultants.
This was actually a very high-level acquisition. If it weren't for the fact that Maël was short on time and only 18 years old, they would never have chosen such a hasty way of talking.
Thinking of this, the three of them curiously observed Maël up close when shaking hands.
They seemed to want to see what kind of person could hold $100 million worth of shares at the age of 18.
"Hello."
Maël shook hands with them to complete the greeting, then sat down, waiting for them to speak.
Ross exchanged a glance with a consultant wearing gold-rimmed glasses, nodded, and then looked at Maël, taking out several documents from his bag.
"This is our acquisition plan."
Ross was very polite, at least on the surface, placing Maël on the same level as himself. "There are detailed annotations on it. You can take a look first, and then we can talk."
Beside him, another lean consultant smiled. "We greatly admire Mr. Maël's achievements in the football world. We all know what potential and future you have. You have an enviable life.
"Moreover, when we learned that you really hold 10% of Instagram's shares and have made some contributions to its development, everyone in the investment banking circle was surprised.
"There is an investment banker in France who just handled the Nestlé acquisition case and is also a big name. He originally wanted to replace us to negotiate this time.
"But Facebook suspected that he had already been in contact with you, so they finally chose us... Well, that investment banker doesn't seem to be planning to stay in this industry anymore and is preparing to enter politics."
Maël roughly knew who he was talking about. He nodded to the person, then roughly flipped through the contract in his hand.
There was nothing special, just a series of analyses and data comparisons, as well as the basis for their calculation of the market value, etc.
He quickly handed the document back. "I've finished reading it. Um... it's very well written."
The scene fell into silence. Ross put the documents back into his briefcase, then sat up straight, placing his hands together on the table. "We had some understanding before. You don't seem to be very willing to sell your Instagram shares.
"As an Arsenal player, you must know about the matter between Kroenke and Usmanov, right?
"Both of them want to fully acquire the team, turning it completely into their own, and then invest in it and develop it.
"If they can't fully acquire it, they will always have a grudge in their hearts, and what this grudge will lead to... I think we all see it."
Ross took a sip of coffee, his sharp eyes fixed on Maël. "Back to us, if Facebook can't fully acquire Instagram, then everything will develop in a bad direction.
"This acquisition may not be established, and even if it is, Zuckerberg will not be able to let go and pour resources into it.
"At that time, the shares you originally wanted to keep to sell at a higher price may become worthless and even unsellable."
Ross shrugged and spread his hands, making a regretful look. "So, we still hope you can be a little more flexible, and then we can negotiate the price and other related issues."
The consultant with gold-rimmed glasses added, "Kevin Systrom hopes you can sell your shares, because their negotiations with Facebook are about to come to an end.
"Originally, he should have conducted internal negotiations with you, but... he seems very embarrassed to bring this up to you.
"We all understand the reason. He feels that you have contributed a lot in this process and shouldn't be sitting at the negotiating table with you.
"I think, if he pays so much attention to your feelings, you should also consider his opinion."
Maël listened to their words, nodding all the time to show his approval.
After they finished speaking, he smiled firmly, "I understand the pros and cons, but I still stand by my choice. I'm not planning to sell my shares of Instagram.
"I'm sorry."
The reason for rejecting these investment bankers this time was the same as the reason for rejecting Kevin last time: he didn't think now was a good time to sell his Instagram shares.
First of all, these 10% of the shares definitely haven't reached their due value; secondly, he's not in a hurry for money right now, so there's no need to rush to sell the shares. He has plenty of time to wait.
He'll wait until he needs the money and the value is a bit higher, then sell them all off in one go.
As for what they said, that his not selling Instagram shares might cause the acquisition to fail, might prevent Zuckerberg from fully investing, and might cause these 10% to depreciate or even be stuck with him...
He wasn't worried about that at all. Instagram's ability to develop to this scale in such a short time has already proven how good its model and creativity are, and how strong its hard power is.
Zuckerberg and these Silicon Valley elites can definitely see this, otherwise they wouldn't have offered a price of $1.5 billion.
Can they treat Instagram the way Kroenke and Usmanov treat Arsenal?
That's a huge joke, something that's not going to happen. It's just something the investment banker used to scare him.
Too bad, they can't guess that he actually knows what scale Instagram will reach later, and knows that Zuckerberg can't give up the other 90% for his 10%.
The scene fell into silence. Ross and the other two consultants looked back and forth, not knowing what to say.
Just as they thought of new ways to deceive him and were about to speak, Maël suddenly picked up his phone and sighed helplessly, "F*ck, how is it already two-nil? Are we going to lose?"
"Hiss." He touched his heart, making a painful expression, and waved to the three of them, "Anyway, we've talked about almost everything, and both sides have exchanged opinions, so I'm going home first.
"Sorry, I've always had this problem. My heart feels uncomfortable when we lose, and I need to rest."
He acted very convincingly, but no one would believe him. It could only be considered a more dignified way of expressing that the negotiation had broken down.
After Maël left, the consultant wearing gold-rimmed glasses sneered a few times, "His heart feels uncomfortable when he loses, so he keeps winning, right?"
"Haha..." Everyone laughed dryly a few times, looking a little embarrassed.
Ross made a phone call, telling the other side with a heavy face that the first attempt had failed, and roughly described how determined Maël's attitude was.
After a long time, a voice came from the other side, "I will acquire 90% of Kevin Systrom and others in May. If you negotiate before May, I will pay you a commission of 3% of the acquisition price.
"If you negotiate in the second half of the year, I will pay you a 2% commission... If it's next year, the cooperation will end."
Hanging up the phone, a look of greed appeared in Ross's eyes. He waved to the two of them, "Let's go, let's go back and discuss countermeasures. If this deal goes through, we can get 4.5 million US dollars."
The other two immediately lit up, following Ross on the left and right, like the two generals beside the vanguard Ross.
In the game that ended that day, Arsenal ultimately lost to Sunderland zero to two, ending their FA Cup journey this season.
Somehow, the British Daily Mail learned about the news that Maël was 'unwell' after the team lost, and the report was hotly discussed by fans online as a joke.
"This is blatant revenge. Someone wants to harm me."
During training the next day, Maël complained to his teammates while running, but didn't say what was going on.
He was lively and active, and was particularly enthusiastic in various training sessions, for fear that someone would really think he was psychologically fragile.
"Haha..."
His appearance caused a lot of laughter from the players, and everyone thought he was quite interesting.
The days continued to move forward like this. On February 22nd, the day before the team set off for the first leg of the Champions League Round of 16, Wenger gathered everyone together.
"Everyone already knows that our opponent in the Round of 16 is Serie A powerhouse AC Milan, and we also know that we have to play an away game first."
He stood in place with a small tactical board, "The schedule is very difficult for us. If we go all out, it will inevitably make the whole team very tired.
"In order to avoid affecting the EFL Cup final on February 28th, some of the starting lineup will not play in this game, some of the starting lineup will only play one half, and the rest will be left to the substitutes."
Although the words were euphemistic, the meaning was very clear: the team was going to give up the Champions League campaign this season.
They won't compete for victory against Milan, they will only let the core players who didn't play against Sunderland warm up their feet, find their form for the final, and avoid being unable to keep up with the rhythm if they rest for too long.
Thus, the trajectory of Arsenal's remaining games this season became clear.
After this Champions League game, their elite forces will only be used on two fronts.
And after the EFL Cup final at the end of the month, the team's elites will concentrate all their energy and fully launch an attack on the Premier League title!
"Let's go, let's go!"
"Fight for the championship!"
Maël and his teammates clapped each other on the back, boosting morale. Everything was set, and now it was time to launch the final assault on their goal.
"MilanMilan!!"
February 24th, Milan, Italy. The San Siro stadium, capable of holding over 80,000 spectators, was a sea of people, their unified chants echoing through the sky.
The stadium's occupancy rate exceeded 98%. From a distance, it was a dark, dense mass, with giant fan-made tifos spread across multiple stands, creating an extremely intimidating atmosphere.
Maël saw all of this during the warm-up, feeling the feverish atmosphere of the stadium. His heart couldn't help but tremble slightly.
The San Siro stadium was probably the first stadium he'd entered with a capacity of over 80,000. The feeling was indeed different.
Playing against AC Milan here, a team that had won 7 Champions League titles and 18 Italian top-league titles, would definitely be an unforgettable experience!
He had long wanted to visit the home grounds of all the major clubs in the world, and today he was unlocking another one.
Unfortunately, the team wasn't quite ready to compete for the Champions League title this season, so he probably wouldn't be able to take a victory away from here.
But just coming here and experiencing it was a great motivation for him.
When he came here again in the future, he would definitely defeat these powerful clubs and chase the dream of winning the Champions League title with Arsenal!
"Bip bip!"
The referee's urging whistle sounded, signaling the players of both teams to return to the locker room and the starting players to prepare for the entrance ceremony.
Maël ran back to the locker room, put on his shin guards, and went to the player tunnel. He quickly spotted a group of familiar faces in the AC Milan lineup, as well as a group of new faces.
Robinho, the King of the Bicycle Kick, Ibrahimovic, the Great God, Seedorf, the legendary midfielder, Van Bommel, the 'Umbrella Brother', and others.
These people, who used to live only in legends, were going to compete against him on the green field today! Having stayed in the Premier League for too long and become familiar with many top players, Maël sometimes lost some of the subtle feelings, but today they were back.
Having the opportunity and ability to compete on the same field with these people was truly wonderful, truly fortunate.
He had to seize the opportunities and adventures of this life, and strive to defeat these legendary players and top superstars in the Champions League, leaving his own story behind.
"Bip bip!"
The referee's whistle sounded, and the players from both sides walked onto the field, standing in a row for the entrance ceremony.
"Deng deng deng deng deng deng. Deng deng deng deng deng deng!"
As the heavy melody echoed through the San Siro stadium, the fans in the entire stadium quieted down, listening quietly to the prelude of this great war song.
"Die MeisterDie Besten!!"
And when the chorus began, more than 70,000 Milan fans suddenly began to sing loudly in unison, the passionate atmosphere of the entire stadium instantly reaching its peak, "Les grandeséquipeThe champions!!"
Maël stood in the center of the field, closing his eyes to enjoy it all. The game hadn't even started yet, but his blood was already pumping.
After all of this, he went to his position and stood there, waiting for the game to officially begin. They would kick off first in the first half.
Watching the opponent's midfield configuration, he suddenly noticed something and came to Arteta's side, "Go tell Van Persie to pass the ball from the center circle to you. I want to try a kickoff tactic."
"What?" Arteta looked at the opponent's backfield with interest, wanting to hear what ideas Maël had.
"The opponent's midfield is very weak, their defensive ability is very poor. After the kickoff, I'll run directly between the defensive line and the midfield line."
Maël pretended to look elsewhere, chatting with him casually, "After you get the ball, feint backward, making them think you'll pass it back, relaxing their vigilance, and then suddenly turn around and send a long pass to me."
"And then?" Arteta looked at him, not quite understanding. It didn't seem like there was any special technique involved.
"Then I'll shoot." Maël glanced at the opponent's goalkeeper and smiled, "It's just the beginning of the game, he definitely hasn't gotten into the zone yet and won't be able to react.
"As long as the quality is decent, there's a chance to blast it in.
"Come on, the San Siro is hot, let me blast a shot first and try it out. If we slowly organize and send the ball up from the backfield, the opponent's defenders will have already marked me to death."
Arteta considered it for a moment, then nodded, "About where will you be? I'll try to turn around and pass without looking, so I can reduce the time and increase the success rate."
Maël's answer was simple, "Around the edge of the penalty area, the area where right-footed players take long shots, you understand."
The two exchanged glances, then turned and walked towards their positions.
"Bip!"
At 3:30 p.m. local time, the referee blew the whistle to start the game. This Champions League Round of 16 first-leg match officially kicked off at the San Siro stadium.
"CCTV, CCTV! You are now watching the Champions League 1/8 final, Arsenal versus AC Milan!"
Inside the live broadcast booth, CCTV commentator He Wei put on his headset, "Let's take a look at the starting lineups of both sides, starting with the home team, AC Milan."
On the pitch, Van Persie kicked the ball to Arteta, who received it and turned smoothly, feigning a kick towards the side back.
Milan's forwards Robinho and Ibrahimovic quickly rushed past the halfway line, putting pressure on Arsenal's backfield.
And the running route they chose was to the left and right of Arteta, obviously thinking that Arteta would pass the ball backward.
"Pa!"
The instant before Arteta passed the ball, he suddenly flicked the ball backward, and the whole person turned smoothly, leaving the two behind him.
"Boom!!" Then, he played a half-high ball with a slight arc.
It wasn't a missed pass, but this kind of pass was faster and more conducive to Maël receiving the ball. If it was a long pass, the opponent's defender's header wouldn't be weak either.
In the frontcourt, Maël watched the incoming ball and adjusted his position, lifted his left foot to unload the ball, and then dribbled towards the edge of the opponent's penalty area.
"Defender..."
In the commentary booth, He Wei was forced to stop just after saying the goalkeeper's name, "Arsenal designed a kickoff tactic! Arteta found Maël with a long pass, what is Milan's midfield doing?
"Now it's the attacking group composed of Maël, Van Persie, and Walcott, facing Milan's four defenders!
"This is a dangerous attack, but Seedorf has been chasing back, he has come to Maël's side."
"."
At the arc of the penalty area, Maël observed Milan's goal, and also saw Seedorf catching up from his side.
He dribbled the ball out to the side with a bit of an arc, then folded his right leg and suddenly popped it out, swiping towards the middle and bottom of the football, wanting to hit a curved shot with fast ball speed and little arc.
"Boom!!"
The sound of the shot rang out, and Milan's center-back Thiago Silva jumped up, trying to block the shot, but the football flew past his shoulder.
Goalkeeper Abbiati was dumbfounded, he had just jumped and patted the crossbar twice, ready to go, how did the opponent's shot come in the blink of an eye?
He took two emergency small steps, judging the shooting angle.
"Shua!" Who would have thought that just as he saw the football, it had already smashed into the net on his right side, and there was no time to react.
"Yeah!"
At the arc, Maël rushed past the dumbfounded Seedorf and Thiago Silva, spread his arms and shook as he rushed to the sidelines.
"Come on!!"
Under the silent gaze of 70,000 fans at the San Siro, he slid out passionately, pulling out three long bars.
Opening goal!!
He did it!
The 6th Champions League goal! Even if this is his farewell battle in the Champions League this season, he has also left a deep impression on this field.
Next year, he will fight back here, and lead the team to attack the Big Ears Cup, which symbolizes the highest honor of the club, with one goal after another! "Oh!" The cheers of the Arsenal fans rang out a second or two later, the fans hugged their heads, unable to believe what they had just seen.
The players were also smiling speechlessly, they didn't expect Maël to knock on Milan's goal as soon as he came up.
Apart from Arteta, most of them didn't even touch the ball, and they had to celebrate together?
What's going on?
"Genius!"
"It really worked! Yes!"
"Damn, I'm so jealous!"
"Is this the fastest Champions League goal?"
"It should be!"
Van Persie and others rushed towards Maël, with Arteta being the fastest among them.
They celebrated together in the corner flag area of the San Siro Stadium, enjoying the experience of celebrating goals in the Champions League for the last time this season.
"Goal! Oh... Ho!"
In the live commentary booth, He Wei was stunned. His voice trembled as he said, "With the first attack of the game, the first time he touched the ball, Maël actually used a long shot to knock open Milan's goal! This is amazing! I don't know if this goal was within 10 seconds, but if it was, it could very well be the fastest goal in Champions League history! The record holder is Makkay, who was playing for Bayern Munich in the 2007 season. He scored a goal against Real Madrid in just 10.2 seconds."
"I think it is. I had only just finished introducing the defenders when I saw Maël rush into Milan's backfield and end the battle with a powerful shot."
"The camera is on Seedorf. He seems a little dissatisfied and is complaining to Thiago, seemingly saying to him, 'You should have come out sooner!' There's no way to change it now. Maël's goal has put Arsenal ahead 1-0! The San Siro stadium is silent. Allegri, is there a way to come back?"
After saying this, he took off his headset to eavesdrop on the commentary from other countries.
"Gooooaaaallll!!"
"Absolutely! Genius!!"
There were South American commentators dragging out the syllables, and British commentators using simple exclamations, but shouting with full emotion.
He smiled, then put on his headset and heard a voice in his ear, "7.6 seconds. The goal was at 7.6 seconds, the fastest goal in Champions League history, without a doubt!"
He Wei nodded excitedly, took a deep breath, and continued, "The result is out. 7.6 seconds. Maël's goal makes him the record holder for the fastest goal in Champions League history! Looking at Arsenal's lineup today, and considering their upcoming schedule, we speculated that Wenger might choose to give up on this season's Champions League."
"If that's the case, then Maël has also completed his Champions League journey this season in a satisfactory manner, saying goodbye to those who love him in other parts of the world, and see you next year!"
I felt terrible today and spent the whole day writing 12,000 words. Sorry, the rest will be tomorrow. I'll finish the EFL Cup final tomorrow.
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