From Arsenal, Forge the Path to Football God

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Time moved into August, and the Premier League and Championship League were about to kick off.

At Arsenal's Colney Training Ground, in the Head Coach's Office.

Wenger, cigarette in hand, leaned by the window, puffing away, his face clouded with worry and a rare sense of frustration.

Assistant Philis stood behind him, looking at the scattered pieces of paper and tactical boards on the floor, and sighed.

The atmosphere in the office was suffocating.

"The Ten-Year Plan, it's all gone."

Philis finally spoke, his heart aching. The situation was still developing, and Arsenal was at a disadvantage in the negotiations with Barcelona and Cesc Fàbregas. "We can't see the end. What should we do?"

"We'll appoint him as Captain again for the new season, for one last try."

Wenger turned around, looking at the Ten-Year Plan outline he had recently torn up, his heart bleeding. "If there's no other way, then..."

He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He took a few steps, and a pain in his chest and a feeling of nausea in his stomach made him momentarily dizzy.

This Ten-Year Plan held all his hopes for Arsenal's future!

It included detailed proposals for economic, team-building, and honor-related aspects, and he had been working towards it all along.

The main figure in the plan was Fabregas.

Once he left, everything would turn to nothing, vanishing into thin air.

"Mr. Wenger!"

Philis supported him, gritting his teeth. "Let's find another Fabregas!"

"Let's not talk about him anymore."

Wenger sat down at the tea table by the window, waving his cigarette hand. "Let's talk about other things."

Philis thought for a moment, came to Wenger's desk, plugged in his USB drive, and pulled up a set of data. "I have a monthly report on the loaned players. Mr. Wenger should take a look."

He quickly printed it out, organized it, and handed it to Mr. Wenger.

His right hand didn't stop.

He quickly copied the 'Ten-Year Plan Outline' that was still prominently displayed on the desk and saved it to his USB drive.

This wasn't really a secret.

But the most detailed version was with Mr. Wenger, containing many of his personal annotations and insights.

He wanted to keep it, to leave a glimmer of hope for the club.

Just in case, if the team needed it, even if only for a year or two or three.

"From Johansson: Maël and Gilbert have made rapid progress, especially the former, who has already shown the ability to stand in the Championship.

"He has gained the favor of Gary Speed, who is about to take over as the head coach of Sheffield United. He might get an immediate opportunity once Speed takes over."

Wenger read a part of the report that caught his interest and then looked at Philis. "What do you think of these two?"

"Mr. Wenger chose them."

Philis gave a forced laugh, feeling embarrassed. "I haven't seen them play, so I'm not familiar."

"There should be plenty of idle scouts in the team."

Wenger flipped through the rest of the report and then placed it on the desk, making an arrangement. "The new season is about to start. Find someone for me.

"Have them fly to Sheffield to watch Maël and Gilbert's matches whenever they are selected for the team and give me a detailed report."

"Doing this..."

Philis interjected, "Isn't it a bit too special?"

Wenger gave him a deep look, his eyes filled with fatigue and helplessness, but he held his temper.

Sheffield, Cherry Street.

The days of hard work and fun continued.

Maël didn't stop his efforts. His world was now filled with the sweat of training and the comfort of relaxation, time flowing by like a stream.

On August 8th, Sheffield United faced their opening match of the Championship League season.

They were at home, facing Queens Park Rangers, who had strengthened in multiple areas this season and were aiming for the championship!

At six o'clock that evening, after completing their extra training, Maël and Gilbert returned home, turned on the TV, and tuned to the Championship League broadcast.

"I still don't understand."

Gilbert had been complaining all the way. "Why weren't you selected for the squad? Coach Kevin often praises you, and his eyes show admiration. Why didn't you even get a chance to be a substitute?

"To be honest, Maël, even a fool can see that a few Championship matches would be enough for you to replace the starting left winger, Mark Yates."

Maël seemed very calm, not dwelling on the issue. "Let's watch the game. We're close to Bramall Lane, so we might hear the fans' cheers."

It wasn't that he didn't want to be in the squad, but he had something more joyful to celebrate today—his crossing skill had reached level 3!

[Skill: Precision Curve Level 3]

[Proficiency: (1/800)]

[Effect: Extensive practice has brought your crossing to the level of a professional team's crosser. With a slight adjustment on the wing, you can create a beautiful arc, generating aerial threats!]

This was his second skill to reach level 3, further enhancing his overall ability!

It was pointless to let an unchangeable situation affect his mood and dampen his motivation to keep striving.

"Oh Yeah!!"

Not long after, a faint cheer came from outside the room, sounding small but also earth-shaking.

Gilbert immediately got up and ran to the window, opening it to listen carefully.

The TV broadcast had a delay, so they didn't know which team had scored.

"It's Queens Park Rangers."

Maël made the judgment. Bramall Lane has a capacity of 30,000, and the home team usually has an attendance of over 20,000 per match.

If they all roared together, the sound would be much louder.

Soon, the TV showed the goal. A mistake in Sheffield United's backline gave the opposing striker a one-on-one opportunity, and he scored immediately.

"Oh!"

Not long after, the familiar cheer came again.

This time, Gilbert could also tell it was Queens Park Rangers scoring again.

He started pacing around the room, worried that the team might suffer a heavy defeat.

Watching your team be humiliated step by step is not a pleasant feeling.

No one likes to see their team lose, especially when you are powerless to help or can't use your abilities.

"Yeah!!" When the faint but powerful cheer came again, both of them couldn't stay still.

It felt like everything was happening right in front of them. Their familiar teammates were fighting on the pitch, but they were still just spectators.

Anxiety gradually spread to Maël's heart.

He was anxious about the team's situation and his own future.

Human desires grow continuously. After leaving Arsenal's youth team, they saw a broader world, came to a higher level, and earned higher salaries.

No one wanted to stay in the same place, especially when they gradually felt they had the ability to do something.

"Let's go for a walk."

Maël took out his headphones, called out to Gilbert, and opened the door to go outside.

Gilbert quickly took out his headphones and followed him.

After walking for a while, they had just taken off their headphones to relieve the heat in their ears when they heard another familiar cheer.

No need to look, the team was down 0-4!

Not long after, they saw many fans in Sheffield United's red and white striped jerseys walking on the streets, seemingly leaving early.

Some were throwing away hats with the team's logo, others were discarding scarves, and still, others were cursing and heading to bars to drown their sorrows.

The two felt extremely heavy-hearted. That night, Sheffield United's true strength was exposed to the public.

Their facade was coldly torn away by Queens Park Rangers, shattering at the slightest touch.