From Arsenal to the Ball God

"Ah...!"

In the 31st minute of the match, with a scream echoing from the backfield, Klich lay on the ground and hadn’t gotten up for a long time.

It was a non-contact injury. Perhaps he felt there was no hope left and wanted to feign an injury to leave the field, not wanting to watch as Arsenal edged closer to the championship.

Mancini watched the team doctor examining Klich, hoping to get an answer from them.

When he saw the team doctor’s complex expression turn towards him, unable to give any gesture, he resigned himself to fate.

"Kolarov!"

Mancini turned around and called Kolarov to warm up, then went to the bench, "If anyone wants to play, raise your hand and let me know. I can substitute you in after the halftime break."

The Manchester City substitute players looked at him stupefied, then understood their coach’s intention, with many raising their hands.

"Oh.....!" Cheers echoed again through the Emirates Stadium, as Arsenal’s threatening attack seemed to resurface.

Mancini turned his head, seeing Ma’el flick the ball past Sabaleta, then cut towards the midfield without stopping, delivering a surgical low pass that tore Manchester City’s defense apart.

At the far post, Sagna sprinted forward into the penalty area flank, receiving the ball without any defenders marking him, and took a shot.

Mancini turned back; he knew he didn’t need to watch.

But his calmness didn’t mean the players on the field weren’t feeling tense.

"Aim for the center!"

Inside the penalty area, Ma’el, watching Sagna about to shoot for the far corner, couldn’t help but remind him.

Sometimes believing in superstition is necessary; this goal seemed a sure thing... But if Sagna shot wide, it would be disastrous.

"Bang!"

At the last moment before shooting, Sagna hesitated, then changed the contact point, trying to aim the ball towards the center.

"Whoosh!" The soccer ball flew low to the ground, 20 centimeters above, smashing into the far corner of the net precisely.

"Huh?!" Sagna discovered a new continent, his eyes lit up, and he immediately spread his arms and ran towards Ma’el.

The ball went in!

Two to zero!

Another step closer!

"Yeah...!!" The earth-shaking roar permeated the entire stadium. Fans were filled with an unparalleled passion, with tens of thousands standing in unison.

"The smoked God of War! The fiery Diamond!! Sagna scores another goal for Arsenal!"

In the broadcast room, Zhan Jun joyfully declared, "Two to zero! The victory is more stable! An assist from Ma’el’s breakthrough!

"While congratulating Sagna on scoring his third goal of the season, we should also congratulate Ma’el on completing his 20th Premier League assist!

"He’s now matched their team’s legend, Henry’s single-season assist record!

"Remember, this is also the Premier League’s assist record!

"The season-ending Ma’el is truly terrifying! Each step forward seems to break a record or elevate another!

"Both the goal and assist surpass Henry! Now, I think everyone can say, his debut season outshines peak Henry!

"Arsenal fans no longer need to reminisce about the legendary number 14. A legendary number 7 is waving to them with the Premier League championship trophy!

"Where will he go? Where will he lead this team?!"

"....."

"Well done!!"

On the field, Ma’el watched as the ball hit the net, he jumped up and arched his body in place.

He then glanced at Wenger on the sidelines, seeing the professor high-fiving Philip and others.

"Sagna!" He said, pointing to the sidelines, "Celebrate over there, tell him we’ve got it!"

Sagna gave a glance at the coaching bench, then nodded and ran over.

Ma’el followed, unable to stop smiling, confident in the achievement he would accomplish today.

"Clap!" Sagna high-fived the professor on the sideline, then clenched his fist towards the pitch, "Wow...!!"

Wenger was wearing a brand-new black coat today, paired with a dark red tie and a light blue shirt, obviously prepared for the trophy presentation ceremony.

He and Sagna smiled while looking at Ma’el, the young man whose goal and assist secured their championship.

With Ma’el still ten meters away, he couldn’t help but raise his left hand, waiting to high-five.

"Mr. Wenger."

Unexpectedly, Ma’el, upon reaching him, didn’t notice his offer for a high-five but embraced him instead, joking, "Ready to dance? Are you dancing with Philip and Hans, or going solo?"

"Haha.....!" Wenger withdrew his left hand proudly, "Solo, I’m well prepared today."

"That’s good then."

Ma’el patted his shoulder and turned to Hans, "Such an important day, didn’t you prepare any celebrations?"

"Of course, I did."

Hans, with a flushed face, even his bald head turning red, pointed to his feet, "When the match ends, and if we win, I’ll wear those shoes you gave me and kick the game ball off the pitch."

Ma’el shook his head with a smile, giving him a push, "That’s too simple! And you might not even get the chance."

"I couldn’t think of anything else."

Hans replied with a silly grin, pointing to a place, "The entire Arsenal U18 Team is over there. I’ll kick the ball in their direction, so my players can feel the joy of victory together."

Ma’el glanced in the pointed direction, nodded, said no more, and turned back to the field.

He instinctively raised his arms, waving them towards the sky a few times.