Time marched into August, and the Premier League and EFL Championship were about to kick off.
Arsenal's Colney Training Base, the head coach's office.
Wenger, with a cigarette never far from his hand, leaned against the window, exhaling clouds of smoke, his face clouded with worry and a rare hint of frustration.
Assistant coach Phillis stood behind him, looking at the scattered pieces of paper and tactical boards on the floor, sighing softly.
The atmosphere in the office was extremely oppressive.
"The ten-year plan, just gone like that."
Phillis finally spoke, feeling a pang of sympathy. The matter was still escalating, and Arsenal had come out on the losing end in their game with Barcelona and Xiaofa. "There's no end in sight. What should we do?"
"Continue to appoint him as captain for the new season, and make one last attempt."
Wenger turned around, looking at the outline of the ten-year plan he had torn up not long ago, his heart bleeding. "If there's no way, then..."
He couldn't bring himself to say the rest. He took two steps, and a pain in his chest and a feeling of nausea in his stomach struck him simultaneously, even causing him to feel dizzy.
This ten-year plan contained his expectations for Arsenal's future, all his hopes!
Including detailed proposals for the economic aspects, team building, honors, and more, all of which he had been working towards.
And the key figure in the plan was Fabregas.
If he left, everything would turn into bubbles, vanishing into thin air.
"Mr. Wenger!"
Phillis went up to support him, gritting his teeth and saying, "Let's find another Fabregas!"
"Let's not talk about him."
Wenger sat down at the tea table by the window, waving the hand holding the cigarette twice. "Let's talk about other things."
Phillis thought for a moment, then went to Wenger's desk, plugged in his USB drive, and pulled up a set of data. "I have a monthly report on loaned players here. You should take a look, sir."
He quickly clicked print, and after the printer next to him stopped moving, he organized the report and handed it to Mr. Wenger.
And his right hand didn't stop.
He quickly copied the 'Ten-Year Plan Outline', which was still prominently displayed on the desk, and transferred it to his USB drive for safekeeping.
This wasn't really a secret.
But the most detailed version was with Mr. Wenger, containing many of his personal notes and detailed insights.
He wanted to save it, to leave a glimmer of hope for the club.
Just in case the team might still need this plan in the end, even if it was only for one, two, or three years.
"From Joelson: Maël and Gilbert are improving rapidly, especially the former, who has already shown the level to gain a foothold in the EFL Championship."
"He has gained the favor of Gareth Speed, who is about to take over as Sheffield United's head coach. Perhaps he will get an immediate opportunity when he takes office."
After reading for a while, Wenger read out a passage that made him feel curious, then he looked at Phillis. "Do you think highly of these two?"
"Mr. Wenger decided on them back then."
Phillis gave an awkward smile, feeling ashamed. "I haven't seen them play, so I'm not familiar with them."
"There should be quite a few scouts free in the team, right?"
Wenger flipped through the rest of the report, then put it on the desk, making arrangements. "The new season is about to start. Help me find someone.
"Have them rush to Sheffield to watch Maël and Gilbert every time they are selected for the match list, and give me a detailed report."
"Doing this..."
Phillis interjected, "Wouldn't it be a little too special?"
Wenger gave him a deep look, a trace of fatigue and helplessness flashing across his eyes, and finally he held back his anger.
Sheffield City, Cherry Street.
The days full of hard work and fun continued.
Maël didn't stop his pace; his world was filled only with sweat during training and ease during relaxation, as time flowed by him like water.
On August 8th, Sheffield United welcomed the opening match of the EFL Championship 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, Maël and Gilbert, who had just finished extra training, arrived home, turned on the TV, and tuned into the EFL Championship broadcast channel.
"I still don't get it."
Gilbert had been complaining all the way, "Why weren't you selected for the squad list? Coach Kevin often praises you, his eyes full of appreciation for you. Why not even a substitute opportunity? Honestly, Maël, even a fool can see that if you were given a few EFL Championship games to develop, you could squeeze out the starting left winger, Mark Yates."
Maël seemed very calm, not dwelling on the issue, "Let's watch the game. We're very close to Bramall Lane, maybe we can hear the cheers of the fans inside."
It wasn't that he didn't want to be selected for the squad list, but he had something more joyful to celebrate today—his Cross had broken through to lv3!
[Skill: Precise Arc lv3]
[Proficiency: (1/800)]
[Effect: The accumulation of extensive practice has allowed your Cross to reach the level of a professional team's crosser. With slight adjustments on the wing, you can create beautiful arcs, creating aerial threats!]
This was his second lv3 skill, elevating his overall ability to another level! There was no need to let something unchangeable affect his mood and undermine his fighting spirit.
"Oh Yeah!!"
Before long, a faint cheer suddenly came from outside the room, feeling both small and earth-shattering.
Gilbert immediately got up, ran to the window, and listened carefully.
The TV broadcast was delayed, 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's attendance is over 20,000 for each game.
If they were all roaring together, the sound should be more than this.
Soon, the goal appeared on the TV screen. A mistake in Sheffield United's backfield gave the opposing center forward a one-on-one opportunity, which he then converted.
"Oh!"
Not long after, the familiar sound came again.
This time Gilbert could also tell that Queens Park Rangers had scored again.
He paced anxiously in the room, a little worried that the team would be crushed.
The feeling of watching the group you belong to being swallowed by humiliation step by step was not pleasant.
No one likes their team losing, especially when you are powerless, or have the power but can't use it.
"Yeah!!" When that small but magnificent sound came again, both of them couldn't sit still.
Everything seemed to be happening right before their eyes, their familiar teammates were fighting on the field, but they were still just bystanders.
Anxiety gradually spread to Maël's heart.
Both anxiety about the team's situation and anxiety about his own future.
People's desires are constantly growing, after leaving the Arsenal youth team.
They have seen a wider world, come to a higher level, and received higher salaries.
No one wants to stand still, especially when you gradually feel you have the ability to do something.
"Let's go for a walk."
Maël took out his headphones, called out to Gilbert, and then opened the door and walked outside.
Gilbert quickly took out his headphones and followed his pace.
After the two went downstairs and walked for a while, they had just taken off their headphones to relieve the heat in their ears when they happened to hear a familiar cheer again.
No need to look, the team was losing zero to four! Not long after, they saw many fans wearing Sheffield United's red and white striped jerseys walking down the street, seemingly leaving early.
They either smashed hats printed with the team logo, or threw away scarves, and then cursed a few times, heading to the bar to drink away their sorrows.
The two felt very depressed. That night, Sheffield United's true strength was exposed to the public.
Their fig leaf was coldly torn off by Queens Park Rangers, crumbling at the slightest touch.
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