Watching the game on TV come to an end, Fabregas sat blankly on the sofa, missing his mouth with the coffee cup several times, spilling it all over his hands and the floor.
Several Barcelona players sat beside him, watching the television in contemplation, their moods somewhat complicated.
Pique turned to glance at him, jokingly asking, "Your old team won, are you still happy?"
"No," Fabregas placed the coffee on the table, lying back on the sofa, and said, "My only team can be Barcelona; going to Arsenal was just for experience."
"Haha..." A faint laugh sounded; a few people chuckled softly, but stopped when they noticed that no one else was laughing.
Pique's joke clearly didn't lighten the mood, so he could only ask again, "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing," Fabregas shook his head, not wanting to voice the worries and ominous premonitions in his heart.
"AS's report."
The team's forward, Pedro, walked in from the stairwell at this moment, unaware of the oppressive atmosphere upstairs, and introduced, "An 18-year-old Premier League player tops the Premier League scorer list with 10 goals in 7 games. Not bad, another genius."
He had been chatting with his brothers downstairs and didn't know they had just finished watching a game upstairs.
After clicking on the detailed report, he continued with a smile, "In the Arsenal vs. Tottenham Derby, Maël scored a brace, scoring his 10th Premier League goal... Wait, Maël?"
Pedro glanced at Fabregas, remembering something, and widened his eyes, "Him? Is that the one?"
The one who had a conflict with Xiaofa and even hit Xiaofa a few times?
Pedro probably understood why no one was talking upstairs. He awkwardly put away his phone and came to sit on the sofa.
Fabregas glanced at him, his cheeks puffed up, but he didn't dare to say anything.
"Who scored 10 goals in 7 games?"
Another figure walked up from the stairwell, his voice very distinctive, and his hair looked freshly cut.
It was Messi, with a warm smile and a few traces of youthful innocence still on his face.
But no one dared to underestimate him. Two consecutive Ballon d'Or awards and a single-season goal tally of 50+ had made him the most valuable player in the world of football today.
Many Barcelona players straightened their postures. Even though Messi didn't hold any official position like captain, his importance to the team and his influence within the team surpassed anyone else.
"Maël," Fabregas turned his head and took the initiative to express his unhappiness, "He's only 18 this year, and he's the one I had friction with in Arsenal's youth academy."
"Oh, it's him,"
Messi nodded, indicating that he knew this person. He came to the sofa and sat with everyone, "To have such stats in a top league, not bad."
"Even higher than you were back then."
Pique joked again; he was one of the few in the team who wasn't afraid of Messi, "Be careful, he's coming for your Ballon d'Or soon."
"Haha..." This time the laughter was noticeably louder; clearly, everyone thought this was more of a joke, and even Messi showed a bit of a smile.
Fabregas also smiled twice for once, shaking his head and saying, "Even if he surpasses my achievements at Arsenal in the future, even if he wins the Golden Boy Award, it's absolutely impossible for him to challenge the Ballon d'Or.
"The Ballon d'Or isn't just about goals and assists; it requires team honors.
"I've said it countless times: staying at Arsenal, he won't have anything."
He said a lot in a row, as if he had been harboring resentment for a long time, his tone carrying a serious sense of jealousy.
Not far away, Pedro discreetly searched for the Premier League standings, and Messi came to his side, looking at it with him.
When he saw Arsenal's points, Pedro abruptly pressed the power button.
Messi raised his head, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "What if Arsenal has a chance to win the title?"
"Impossible." Fabregas was very certain, pointing at the television screen and saying, "I've been following the Premier League; this season's champion will definitely still be Manchester United! If Arsenal's little investment could win the title, then the other Premier League teams might as well disband."
He shouldn't have held such great resentment towards the team he played for for 8 years, but that incident before he left still bothered him.
If Arsenal could win the title, it wouldn't just be slapping him in the face; it would be whipping his corpse.
How would the world see him?
How much ridicule would he receive, how many people who disliked him would get their wish? That was absolutely not, and absolutely could not happen. As a talented player, Fabregas believed that his judgment and his choice must be right!
...
London, England, White Hart Lane.
"With 7 matches played, 5 wins, 2 draws, and 17 points, Arsenal is tied with both Manchester clubs in points. They only trail by one goal in goal difference, placing them second. Is Mr. Wenger satisfied with this result?"
At the post-match press conference, Wenger and Redknapp sat side-by-side, answering questions from reporters.
Their contrasting expressions clearly conveyed their moods. Even outsiders could easily tell who was the winner and who was the loser.
"It couldn't be better,"
Wenger replied with a smile, honestly saying, "We've never had such a good start to the season in recent years."
Redknapp, sitting next to him, looked embarrassed. He had hoped to use the home advantage to defeat Arsenal in the Derby, but instead, he had helped them climb to second place in the league standings.
Losing the game and helping their arch-rivals reach a higher level was the worst possible outcome.
"Does the team have any plans to compete for the title this season? What does Maël, who has scored 10 goals in 7 games, mean to you?" a reporter asked, eager to focus on Arsenal.
As for Tottenham Hotspur?
They could talk about them later. Anyway, any questions would surely be difficult for Redknapp.
This was a common phenomenon in Derby matches. No one pitied the loser; flowers and applause were reserved for the winner.
"Frankly, we do every season,"
Wenger chuckled and scratched his head, his brows furrowing. "But winning the league is very difficult. It's been a long, long time since we've tasted that kind of success. Most of the time, we're just fighting for Champions League qualification.
"If, as the season progresses into the middle or later stages, I see that the team has the potential, I will go all out to compete for it.
"If necessary, we can even give up other fronts. The team has been waiting too long for the league title."
These words surprised the reporters present. Coaches of top teams usually spoke with restraint, as they were under a great deal of scrutiny and pressure. A single careless word could make them the laughingstock of the world.
Although Wenger's words weren't explicit, they clearly revealed his intention to 'compete for the title.' He had rarely made such a statement before.
"What about the second question?" a reporter asked.
Wenger looked at the reporters and knew what they were thinking. "Maël's presence gives me the confidence to say what I just said in front of the media.
"At the beginning of the season, it was hard to imagine that he could come to the team and immediately enter a period of explosive performance. This has changed the team's state and changed my goals and plans."
"Are you saying that his arrival has brought a brighter future to the team? Is that a fair understanding?" a reporter asked with surprise. This answer was quite astonishing.
Few coaches would praise their own players in such a way, as it placed the player in a very high position.
"Yes," Wenger nodded and smiled. "I don't think there's anything wrong with saying that. Everyone can see it.
"We have the best young player in the world, the most amazing young talent. This will inevitably change everything for us."
"The best?" a reporter looked at him and asked, "Are you sure he's the best?"
Wenger shrugged, not understanding why there was any doubt. "The Golden Boy Award nominees will be announced at the end of this month, and the award will be presented next month. Then you'll know if he's the best."
Redknapp, who hadn't been able to interject, could only listen to Wenger and the media talk about the title and the Golden Boy, which made his face darken even more.
After winning the Manager of the Year award in the 2009-10 season with Tottenham Hotspur, he had become a fan of the club, resolutely defending everything about it.
And as everyone knew, the two things that Tottenham Hotspur fans couldn't stand the most were Tottenham Hotspur's relegation and Arsenal's title win.
On such a heavy day, hearing Wenger constantly making wild claims beside him naturally made him feel uncomfortable.
The reporters quickly noticed this and turned their attention to him. "Mr. Redknapp, what are your thoughts on such a disappointing defeat?"
Redknapp calmed himself and replied seriously, "It is indeed a pity. We had a chance to get points, but we relaxed at the last moment.
"But the team has done well on all fronts. The players have performed well and created many opportunities, but we were just a bit unlucky."
"Haha..." Wenger didn't say anything, just chuckled twice, then waved to the media to indicate that he didn't mean to and signaled them to continue the interview.
Redknapp glared at Wenger, turned his head, and continued to face the reporters. Someone quickly asked, "Mr. Wenger has shown his ambition to compete for the title. Does Tottenham Hotspur have any thoughts in this regard?"
He looked at the reporter who asked the question and frowned. "Many things can't be achieved just with ambition. Arsenal hasn't won a title for many years.
"I think the domestic cup titles are closer to Arsenal. The league title won't be related to them in recent years.
"As for us, I think we need to take things one step at a time. For now, we should be more pragmatic and continue to compete for a Champions League spot."
"Haha..." The chuckling sound rang out again from the side. Wenger quickly coughed twice and waved again to signal the interview to continue.
Redknapp gritted his teeth, already feeling like he couldn't bear it any longer. This kind of silent mockery was truly insulting.
"Before the game, you said Kyle Walker could defend Maël, but today we saw that his matchup wasn't very effective." A reporter posed an even more difficult question.
"Uh..." Redknapp's toes were already clenched under the table, and he quickly strategized, trying to smooth over the question.
After thinking for a long time, he looked at the reporter and said, "The team's defensive coordination was average. I don't think Maël gained much advantage in his matchup with Walker. Walker, as a full-back, also contributed to the attack, while Maël didn't defend."
"Hahaha..." Louder laughter erupted, and Wenger grinned at the media reporters, not even bothering to hide it this time.
Redknapp seemed to be exasperated, but not wanting to make any overly undignified movements, he stood up, snorted coldly, and walked out of the media room.
Wenger raised his eyebrows, bit his lip, and stifled a laugh, indicating that he was innocent. He then also walked out of the media room.
"7 goals in 7 games! Breaking age records to top the scorer list! After winning the EFL Championship Golden Boot, is Maël going to skip grades and challenge for the Premier League Golden Boot directly? A player version of the Kaiserslautern Miracle?" - The Guardian
"Three to two! Arsenal wins the Derby! Maël scores a brace, earning his second Premier League Man of the Match award!" - BBC Premier League Column
"Going crazy! Scoring 2 goals in the first game of the month, Maël is once again launching an attack on the monthly best!" - London Evening Standard
"It's only been 7 games, and the season is not even in March yet, everything has just begun. Don't rush, keep moving forward, you will get what you want." - Agüero's latest post on social media.
"Focus, aiming for 13 titles!" - Rooney posted training photos.
"Maël's Golden Boot odds rise to 5th place! Only behind Van Persie, Rooney, Agüero, and Džeko! Entering the top scorer echelon in 7 games!" - Data Statistics Network
"Maël 10 goals, Džeko 9 goals, Rooney 8 goals, Van Persie 6 goals." - The day after the Premier League scorer rankings were released, news about Maël topping the Premier League scorer list swept across Europe, with a similar level of heat as his hat-trick in his Premier League debut.
Even though the season had just started, anyone could top the scorer list at this point, but the hot topics surrounding him were too numerous, making such a fiery reaction easy to understand.
"Let me calculate for everyone, Džeko abused weaker teams at the start with a haul of four goals and a hat-trick, he should be weak later on. Within 3 rounds, Maël's only opponent left is Rooney."
"So, he is very likely to sit on top of the list for the rest of the month? Or even, ultimately win the Golden Boot?"
"It's a bit too magical to win the Premier League Golden Boot at 18, but sitting on it for a month is possible, his form is too hot."
"Džeko abuses weaker teams? Didn't Maël abuse weaker teams? Why didn't he abuse weaker teams and score four goals?"
"Is scoring against strong teams not more impressive than scoring against weak teams? How can you not even defend your own players when you want to defend them?"
"Classic comparison - the Ronaldo comparison method. Ronaldo landed in Eindhoven, a Dutch giant, at the age of 18. Counting friendlies, he scored 68 goals and had 13 assists in 64 games. Which is stronger?"
"What about not counting friendlies?"
"57 games, 54 goals, 7 assists."
"In that case, after reaching a consensus that Maël at 17 is stronger than Ronaldo at 17, I still blindly believe that Maël at 18 is stronger than Ronaldo at 18."
"And can the Eredivisie be compared to the Premier League?"
"That was in the 90s, the Eredivisie at that time should have been more dominant than the current Premier League, right?"
"About the same, if you say so, these two are really easy to compare... Well, I still think Maël is stronger, it just depends on whether he can continue to stabilize."
"But Ronaldo has too few titles, a bit unlucky, I hope Maël can win more titles."
People discussing whether he and Ronaldo were stronger emerged again on the internet, this was always a hot topic, and it always attracted heated discussions among fans.
In fact, analyzing the essence, they undoubtedly regarded Maël as a top-tier genius from the beginning.
Otherwise, the people they would compare him to would be other retired players.
In short, having some heat is still good, Maël's influence is slowly permeating the entire world of football, flowing to every corner of the world.
When he truly becomes an international football superstar, he will also step out of the football circle and radiate towards other industries, gradually becoming a top figure in the entire world.
"Ah!"
In the villa's treatment room, Maël let out a pig-like scream, he almost bounced off the treatment bed.
"Three high-intensity games in a row, the consumption is very serious."
Harry's expression was very solemn, he pinched Maël's sore area, "The Premier League schedule is still too tight, there will be problems in the second half of the season if this continues."
Safina didn't speak on the side, still performing massages on other parts, she had been helping for several months.
"Is there any solution?"
Maël tensed up and felt his leg muscles, finding that the fatigue was indeed very serious.
His legs basically didn't have a time when they didn't hurt, the last time he relaxed like a normal person was when he had just transmigrated.
On weekdays, it can only be said that there is a difference between a little pain and a lot of pain.
"The Liquid Nitrogen Cryotherapy Chamber is a must-have."
Harry reduced the massage pressure, saying as he worked, "I mentioned it to you before. It's a high-tech product that can reach temperatures as low as -200 degrees Celsius, which is very effective for relieving fatigue."
"Let's get an Oxygen Chamber too, while we're at it. You have everything else in this house."
"Don't think these things aren't important. The focus isn't just on treating your problem area, but on preventing issues in other areas. That's the key."
"How much?" Maël, finding it reasonable, inquired about the price.
"If you choose the best, it could be over a million pounds." Harry hadn't checked the market for these devices recently, so he could only give a rough estimate.
"A million pounds."
Maël was immediately troubled. His current savings should be around £3 million. This was basically all he had earned since coming to London. Before that, he had spent his money almost entirely.
A quick calculation showed that the Signing Fee was £2.1 million, the endorsement fee after tax and commission was £430,000, plus the salary he received before the raise was about £400,000, which was close to £3 million.
After the raise, he received six weeks' salary, which was about £380,000 after tax.
But the big money was in bonuses. Although he hadn't triggered the generous championship bonus clauses yet, his appearances and goals were already adding up.
He earned £20,000 for every goal he scored and £15,000 for every assist, plus around £10,000 for appearances.
Adding in miscellaneous items, his current bonuses totaled around £550,000.
In total, after deducting various expenses, he had about £3.5 million in his hands.
"Buy it."
Maël made a decision quickly, gritting his teeth. "Contact the best suppliers for me. I can accept it being a bit more expensive."
It's really hard to earn money, but easy to spend it. It's always like this, no matter how much money you have.
He had to aim for the championship. Winning it would guarantee a minimum income of a million pounds, and some would be even higher.
"Okay." Harry nodded. "I'll go take a look first. Then you can contact Mr. Mendes to see if he can get a better price."
"Okay." Maël agreed, relaxing and enjoying the massage therapy.
He scrolled through his social media, watching the increase in his follower count, and noticed that it had started to surge again in the past two days.
Facebook and Twitter were approaching 7 million, and Instagram, under his care, was close to 1.5 million.
If he included social media accounts in various countries, his total platform followers would definitely exceed 15 million.
Although this couldn't compare to the hundreds of millions of followers that superstars had on a single platform, it was already very good for a football rookie.
By the end of the season, could it break 30 million across all platforms? At that time, the promotion fee for a single post should exceed £250,000, right? Maël's mood improved. It was nice to see positive feedback on multiple fronts at this moment.
Next, he would focus on his physical therapy, intensify his training to improve himself, and strive for higher achievements on all fronts! Time slowly moved towards mid-October. Due to the National Team Match Day, the club's various competitions welcomed a two-week break.
This was good, as it gave Maël some time to recover from physical fatigue, since he hadn't received a call-up from the French national team yet.
Although coach Blanc would call him every other week, they mostly talked nonsense, like "Keep training hard," and "We have high hopes for you."
The other party didn't seem to be in a hurry? Then Maël wasn't in a hurry either. Anyway, the European Cup was still far away, and the matches they were playing were European Qualifiers and friendlies.
During this time, it was better to strengthen his own strength and strive for better results in the second half of the league and the Champions League!
If he still hadn't been called up a few months before the European Cup, then he should really be worried.
As a player who wanted to win the Grand Slam and be crowned with the Ballon d'Or, continental competitions like the European Cup and the World Cup were essential.
These competitions were held every four years. If he missed them, waiting another four years would be too costly.
"Check the proficiency of each skill."
Maël put the matter aside for the time being and focused his attention on his training.
Skill: Volley lv3
Proficiency: (213/800)
Skill: Outside of the Foot Curve lv3
Proficiency: (194/800)
Skill: Ball Control lv3
Proficiency: (1646/2000)
Skill: Judgment of Situation lv3
Proficiency: (1912/2000)
Skill: Stamina lv3
Proficiency: (1321/2000)
Skill: Rhythm lv3
Proficiency: (870/1500)
As you can see, the upgrades for Judgment of Situation and Ball Control should be coming soon, while the others will take some time.
Judgment of Situation can't be rushed; it mostly improves slowly with experience. Ball Control, on the other hand, is more controllable and can be enhanced by adjusting training time.
However, the Ball Control skill probably needs to be paired with Rhythm. Training it alone probably won't greatly improve his performance in matches.
It's better to steadily advance on multiple fronts. Anyway, they'll all be upgraded sooner or later.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
On the training field, various sounds of touching the ball rang out again as Maël began to repeat simple movements, growing through boredom and torment.
"Faster! Faster!"
"That's right! That's how it is. I don't believe anyone can achieve Romário's ball control through training, but if it's you, I believe it!"
"..."
"Keep going! Last set!"
"Reward yourself with another set! Come on! You can do it. Test the limits like crazy, make the 'limits' succumb to you, and then cross them!"
"..."
"Ah, the cryotherapy equipment is arriving soon. Your body should feel better then."
"Next time, I'll call José and Davis for a massage too, and see what kind of mess they leave us with every night."
"..."
In this way, besides the club's training, Maël followed José in the morning, Davis in the afternoon, and Safina and Harry in the evening.
He had become accustomed to living and training with these people of different personalities. The days were very fulfilling, and occasionally there were small joys.
On October 13th, the Liquid Nitrogen Cryotherapy Chamber and Oxygen Chamber finally arrived. They were two unremarkable, medium-sized chambers that didn't look like the kind of stuff you'd get for £1.16 million even with a 10% discount.
After the two special personnel patiently explained how to use them, the five of them stood in front of the chambers, eager to try them out, and prepared to send someone in to test them first.
Since Maël was the employer, it was definitely not appropriate to send him in. The remaining four pushed back and forth.
"Harry, you go. This was your suggestion, you must be familiar with using it."
"No, no, no, José, you should go. You train your body all year round, so you're in better shape."
"If you put it that way, then I'll recommend Safina. She eats regularly and is also in good shape."
"Hey! Why not just call Davis? He's not suitable anymore."
"Hey!" Davis saw everyone disliking him for being old. Although he knew this might be a provocation, he still took off his clothes and stood in front of the Liquid Nitrogen Cryotherapy Chamber, wanting to prove himself.
After he stood inside, Harry turned on the machine outside and asked with a smirk, "Do you want it intense or more intense?"
Davis wrapped his arms around himself, both nervous and speechless: "...Is there a difference?"
"The difference between 160 and 180." Harry turned the temperature control while helping Davis make a choice, "30 seconds, minus 180 degrees, here it comes!"
In reality, it is impossible for a person to survive at minus 180 degrees, but the liquid nitrogen machine only simulates a low-temperature environment. The 180 degrees here is different from a true 180 degrees.
"Chichichi!" The ice chamber instantly filled with cold air, looking hazy with mist.
Davis sat stiffly inside, still shaking just now, but not anymore.
Maël and the others couldn't feel anything outside, they could only wave to him to signal and use gestures to ask about his condition.
Davis gave a thumbs up, reassuring everyone a little.
"Not much, is it?" José said, standing there without a care, stretching his arms, seemingly eager to try it himself.
When Davis came out with a calm expression, he immediately stepped forward and asked, "How was it?"
"Awesome." Davis gave a thumbs up and nodded, walking to the side, standing there as if nothing had happened.
José quickly jumped in, saying to Harry, "180, 40 seconds, let's go!"
"Bang!"
"Hissss!"
As the hatch closed and the cold air gushed out, it could be seen through the mirror that the smile on José's face immediately disappeared.
"Hissss!" Only then did Davis hug himself, shivering, and the shivering became more and more severe. He only felt better after sweating a bit.
He came to the hatch and gave José a malicious smile. It turned out he had been pretending all along.
When José came out, he had an ugly smile on his face, squatting in place for a long time before saying, "I saw my grandma."
"Haha...!" Remembering José's appearance just now, everyone laughed together.
Afterward, Harry and Safina successively went in to experience it, but their bodies were not as strong as the other three, so they only used a temperature of 150 degrees.
Even so, it didn't stop them from waving their hands wildly when they came out, vowing never to go in again in this lifetime.
Maël was the last to enter the chamber. He had prepared himself mentally for everything, but at the moment the cold air came out, his mind went blank, as if all his energy was used to feel the coldness of his flesh.
Countless cold air seemed to penetrate his skin, pierce into his muscles, and enter his bone marrow, scurrying back and forth, giving people an unbearable feeling of pain and itching.
He suddenly rolled his eyes upward, in order to put himself into a brief fainting mode, to get through this time quickly.
However, when he finished the treatment, turned over the cabin and came to the real world, he felt an unprecedented state of relaxation in his body.
"Worth the buy."
After recovering, he patted Harry on the shoulder, knowing that his probability of injury was about to decrease again.
On October 15th, Maël finished his morning training and went home to rest. The next game was coming up, so he would use the afternoon to rest.
[Skill: Volley lv3]
[Proficiency: (361/800)]
[Skill: Outside of the Foot Curve lv3]
[Proficiency: (324/800)]
[Skill: Ball Control lv3]
[Proficiency: (1791/2000)]
[Skill: Judgment of Situation lv3]
[Proficiency: (1931/2000)]
[Skill: Stamina lv3]
[Proficiency: (1511/2000)]
[Skill: Rhythm lv3]
[Proficiency: (1003/1500)]
Looking at the proficiency of the various skills, he found that the improvement was good. Next, he just had to wait for the upgrade.
Sorry for the late update, there is one more chapter, about 6k words.
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