From Arsenal to the Ball God

Obviously, that’s unlikely... Real Madrid has a more glorious history and the most fans in the world.

He really couldn’t see how Arsenal would ever achieve such heritage.

Three consecutive Champions League victories?

Or perhaps the elusive seven crowns attainable only in the Premier League?

"Of course, that’s just a foundational thought. I understand to achieve this, results are paramount."

Kroenke took a sharp puff of his cigar, leaning back against the sofa cushion. "And it requires long-term and stable performance, with excellent results on the European stage."

"But that’s too simple for me. The club has a brilliant coach like Wenger and core members like Ma’el. It seems all I need to do is provide funding."

"I’m not a stingy person. Once I determine something is worthwhile, I won’t hesitate to invest massively. This is something I believe everyone knows."

He laughed brightly, "I understand the above might seem unreliable, but I must say, I know the difficulty and challenges ahead, even more clearly than you do."

"However, I think, since there’s a chance, why not try? Even if I can’t see that day, my son will."

"Do you have a son?"

Mendes took a breath, surprised at how quickly the conversation shifted, and nodded, "Yes, I have one, he’s 7 years old and also likes playing soccer."

"As a father, you understand me." Kroenke’s smile softened, seemingly reminded of his own son, "I want to leave something for my son, not just in the United States."

Mendes felt dizzy from the conversation and waved his hand to return to the initial discussion, earnestly saying, "Alright, back to the initial topic. Supporting you, what does my player get?"

"The best treatment."

Finally, Kroenke spoke to the main point, gesturing with his cigar at Mendes, "And the most special treatment... Not only will the club refrain from taking any of his image rights, but it will also continue to grant him the team’s image usage rights."

"He will receive the highest salary in the Premier League, and 100% of his image rights. We will establish bonus clauses for participating in the club’s commercial activities."

After finishing, he stood up and confidently extended his hand to Mendes, "Usmanov will contact you in a day or two, and I will meet with the players within a few days."

"If possible, I hope you’ll say some good words in front of the players."

"Above all, that’s my utmost sincerity... Having said all that, there’s one thing I’ve realized: an outstanding player is immensely important to a club."

"So, I hope for a pleasant cooperation."

Mendes shook hands with him, a feeling of astonishment welling up inside. He needed time to process everything Kroenke had said.

...

At Emirates Stadium, the celebration continued. Wenger, wearing a blue shirt, lifted the Premier League trophy with a look of joy.

"Oh.....!!"

The players beside him applauded, and many watching the scene felt deeply moved.

"Clap clap...!"

Ma’el, smiling, clapped for the old man, and after a moment, Wenger walked over with the trophy.

Wenger, smiling, held the trophy in his arms and took the crown from atop it, placing it on Ma’el’s head.

Though Ma’el knew this moment would come, he still felt flattered when it did, a shy smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.

It was a very large crown, much larger than the later Premier League championship crown, sized perfectly for his head. He felt the weight... and more than just the weight.

"King of Gunners!"

"Crown him, the King!"

"Hahaha...!"

Van Persie and others nearby applauded and laughed, many taking out their phones to take pictures with Ma’el.

Ma’el wore it for a while, feeling it cumbersome when moving, and took it off, passing it on as a gesture of goodwill, placing it on Van Persie’s head.

"Click!"

He also took out his phone, with wide eyes posing for a picture with the surprised Van Persie, and immediately posted it on social media — "Best partner! Best champion partner! Go for it!"

Van Persie was quickly surrounded by Arsenal players. As he posed for photos with others, he glanced deeply at Ma’el’s retreating figure, his facial muscles twitching slightly.

Ma’el headed toward the players’ tunnel, where his family and friends were emerging, customarily sharing in the joy of winning the championship with him.

It all seemed the same as last time... But it was undoubtedly different. This was the Premier League championship, the most valuable domestic football prize in England!

Moreover, his relationship with a certain someone was different from last time, naturally making this a celebration under different life circumstances.

"Ma’el!"

Isabella, in a white coat, ran enthusiastically toward Ma’el from afar, her steps brimming with youthful vitality.

"You’re amazing, honey!" She came up and took Ma’el’s waist, offering a passionate kiss.

"Oh.....!" Arsenal fans playfully cheered, followed by a round of applause, drawing smiles from many Arsenal players who turned to watch.

Isabella was already accustomed to it, staying by Ma’el’s side, gazing at him with admiration.

Ma’el held her close, and after the first wave of excitement passed, fatigue washed over him, and he urgently needed a trustworthy support point.

The two lovingly leaned against each other, strolling amid the festive field, sweetening the scene for many present.

"A match made in heaven!"

In the broadcast booth, the elderly Zhang Lu couldn’t help but comment with a smile, "Returning triumphantly with a beauty alongside, a player’s 18-year-old truly fulfills many fantasies about life."

"If I remember correctly, her name is Isabella? Truly a talented couple! Wonder if she’ll be in the France wife circle during the European Cup in June."

"Haha.....!" Zhan Jun laughed, slightly refuting, "A talented couple isn’t quite accurate; Ma’el is quite handsome too... I heard Isabella is also a rising star in the fashion circle, they’re both multi-talented."

Zhang Lu nodded, not embarrassed by the rebuttal, only sighing, "Perhaps that’s why they can be together."

"Yes." Zhan Jun checked the time; the broadcast was about to end. He concluded, "Hopefully their youth will be more passionate, good, today’s commentary ends here!"

"See you next time!"

"See you next time!"

"....."

In the center of the field, Ma’el waited for everyone else to finish taking photos with the trophy, then hurried forward to retrieve it.

"Come on, come on!"

He first lifted the trophy with Isabella, leaving a photo of their closed eyes kiss, then took solo photos with his team members.

Finally, with his family present as well, he placed the trophy in front of him as last time, arranging everyone beside him for another big group photo.

"Wait!"

Before the photo, he noticed the crown on the Premier League trophy, picked it up, placed it on his own head, squatted on the ground with one leg forward, one hand supporting the ground and the other around Isabella’s shoulder.

"One...two...three!"

"Cheese.....!"

"Yeah.....!!"

Amid joyous cheers, Ma’el turned back with a beaming smile, feeling satisfied. Except for the Sheffield United group, these people truly were his everything since coming into this world.

"Ma’el."

Isabella’s voice called out, and as he turned, he saw her face under a halo, seemingly lit up by the trophy’s reflection.

She must have understood this, deliberately maintaining this angle for Ma’el to see.

"What’s up?"

Isabella smiled faintly, wrapped her arms around Ma’el’s neck, her tone brimming with strong trust, "Your 3rd championship, and the 3rd I’ve witnessed with you. This is surely just the beginning."

"Because I know, as you said, you’ll capture them all."

...

ps: Adjusting the first Chapter, sorry for being late today.