"Leave the training ground immediately!"
Mr. Wenger's tone was unquestionable. He didn't want to lose his temper at the training ground on this important day representing the 'arrival of new hope'.
It should have been a perfect day, with two talented young men reporting to the team, completing their first training session, and getting on the right track at Arsenal, working towards the same goal.
As a result, Fabregas repeatedly provoked, clearly wanting to make things difficult for them, clearly wanting to ignite conflict.
"Get Barcelona to pay the price I want, and then you can get out."
Mr. Wenger said through gritted teeth. He was different from before. He would no longer compromise, and he would no longer hold any hope of keeping this Spanish genius midfielder.
But when he said this, looking at the disciple he had spent eight years with, and with whom he once had a honeymoon period, he couldn't help but feel a little heartache. "That's your business!"
Fabregas avoided the topic. He knew very well that Barcelona didn't want to pay too much for him. What they wanted was for him to put pressure on Arsenal to accept a 35 million euro offer.
Thinking of this, he felt his self-esteem was somewhat damaged.
But he wanted to go to Barcelona, to play under Guardiola, to become teammates with those top stars, and to win the Champions League!
"I'll leave even if you don't say it."
Fabregas stood coldly in front of Mr. Wenger, glaring at him and saying, "Don't even think about using methods like freezing me out or blocking me. At worst, I just won't play football anymore."
"Anyway, I already have a European Cup title and a World Cup title, and you have nothing but a few league titles from many years ago!"
When he said the last sentence, the expression on Fabregas's face changed slightly, and a regret and shame that shouldn't have appeared in his heart emerged.
It seemed that even he himself knew very well that he shouldn't talk to Mr. Wenger like this.
They had spent too much time together day and night. Even if he didn't want to admit it, Mr. Wenger was like another father to him in a foreign country. His self-esteem was damaged in his contact with Barcelona, and he felt unprecedented torment and irritability in the tug-of-war between Arsenal and Barcelona.
But he didn't dare to express his accumulated anger to Barcelona. Compared to destroying that place that was full of temptation for him, he was more willing to say the coldest, most ruthless, and mostmean (harsh) words to his 'father'.
To pour out his dissatisfaction, to vent all his irritability and resentment!
Was it because they were closer? No, perhaps his heart had long been accustomed to Mr. Wenger's tolerance and love, always feeling that the two would reconcile after each conflict.
"You"
Mr. Wenger wanted to raise his hand and point at him, but found that he seemed to have lost all his strength. An unprecedented feeling of heartache struck, as if someone was stabbing his chest with the sharpest knife, and even twisting the blade.
"Are you crazy?!"
Gilbert rushed out from behind, his face full of disbelief. "Don't you even want this last bit of decency? What good does this do for you?"
If Fabregas could still retain even a trace of respect for Mr. Wenger, then he couldn't possibly have any for Gilbert.
"Who are you?"
He narrowed his eyes with an indifferent expression, pretending not to know even though he clearly did, and shouted, "What qualifications do you have to say these things to me? I have a World Cup title, a European Cup title, a Golden Boy Award, what do you have?"
"An EFL Championship title?! Haha"
Gilbert's face quickly turned red. He was still too young, his brain was congested, but he didn't know how to refute, only his chest rising and falling.
"Remember this!"
Fabregas stepped forward, came in front of Gilbert, leaned his head out and pressed it against Gilbert's, "When I was 18, I played much better than you. You'll never reach my level in your life!"
"With your level, you can't even get into the starting lineup of a mid-table Premier League team. Spend your whole life playing for trash teams! Bah!"
After saying that, he slammed his forehead forward, causing Gilbert to stagger backward.
"What is he doing?"
"He shouldn't be."
In the shocked gazes of everyone, Fabregas turned around and left along the sideline of the training ground, not afraid that Gilbert would have the guts to come up and confront him again.
Who was he? Who was Gilbert?
In a place where no one noticed, Maël's hands trembled slightly, and his anger reached a high point as he watched Fabregas's arrogant back.
His brain gradually went blank, and his legs uncontrollably came to the place where the equipment was piled up. He picked up a hurdle, quickly walked to Gilbert's side.
"Break it." He handed one end to Gilbert, held the other end in his own hand, and stared at the direction Fabregas was leaving.
Gilbert's eyes were bloodshot as he turned to look at Maël, one hand gripping the hurdle.
The two of them exerted force in opposite directions, snapping the already fragile hurdle and obtaining three bent plastic rods.
"Today,"
Maël picked up a rod, his right hand clenched tightly, and walked towards Fabregas. "Let me stand up for you."
He started with a brisk walk, then gradually broke into a run, chasing after Fabregas!
It was only then that everyone realized what he was about to do, and more than twenty Arsenal players and coaching staff members all opened their mouths.
Was he going to start a fight? "Hey!"
"Don't be impulsive!"
"Hey!"
They hurriedly called out, trying to stop Maël, but to no avail.
"I'm going too!"
Gilbert also grabbed a rod at this moment, following Maël and chasing after Fabregas.
Fabregas had heard the commotion and, realizing what was happening, turned back to see Maël approaching rapidly with a rod in his hand. Shock and fear immediately surfaced in his eyes. "What do you want?!"
The feeling of a suave departure vanished instantly. Sensing the danger, he took off running towards the base's gate, looking back every two steps.
As Maël got closer and closer, all that remained in him was fear, and he said in a flustered manner, "Don't be impulsive!"
Don't be impulsive?
Why didn't you ask yourself that just now? Maël rushed forward, aiming at Fabregas's head and swinging his right hand back.
Arm swing!
Forward swing! Swing the rod!
Smash! "Clang!" A crisp sound echoed throughout the training ground, and everyone fell silent, staring blankly as Maël struck Fabregas on the head with the rod, causing the latter to fall to the ground.
That Spanish midfield genius worth tens of millions... the world-renowned football star, had fallen to the ground, incredibly vulnerable.
"Stop!"
Fabregas curled up on the ground, protecting his head. His desire to survive made him abandon his dignity, and he waved his hands repeatedly. "Stop! I give up! Put the rod down first!"
His response was Maël's second rod, followed by Gilbert's rod as he arrived at the scene.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!!"
One rod after another landed on Fabregas's body, and the scene quickly spiraled out of control. A few regrets arose in his heart.
Who would have thought that two young punks would actually dare to attack him? It wasn't until his teammates arrived and pulled Maël and Gilbert away that Fabregas stood up, bruised and swollen, and stood there in silence, stunned.
He saw Mr. Wenger's gaze turn towards him again, saw the hatred in Maël and Gilbert's eyes, and the complexity in his teammates' gazes as they looked at him.
On this day, he and Mr. Wenger both lost face, and any semblance of respect between him and the two new young players on the team was gone.
He had to leave.
"Don't pull me!"
"Calm down! Calm down!"
"Someone go check on Fabregas."
In the midst of the chaos, Fabregas pointed at the two with a trembling arm, leaving one last sentence before leaving, "Good, you have guts! I'm leaving, leaving tonight!"
"I want to see what honors you can win here, what kind of careers you can have! When I win the Champions League in Barcelona, I'll break the medal in half and throw it in both of your faces!"
Fabregas went crazy, and he was helped away to the hospital, cursing all the way.
Everyone knew that even though he was a public figure, this kind of undignified scandal would be suppressed as much as possible.
But this matter couldn't just end like this. The road ahead for them would be long! Arsenal subsequently held a meeting, attended by everyone except Maël and Gilbert, and they were asked not to talk about what happened on the training ground.
But... this kind of thing was bound to be impossible to suppress; too many people had seen it.
"Arsenal's Two Rods Guests? It is rumored that Maël and Gilbert had a conflict with Fabregas on their first day back at Arsenal! The two are suspected of picking up rods and hitting Fabregas hard!" - The Sun Off-field News
"Maël and Fabregas Fight, Fabregas Injured and Leaves London the Same Night! Flies to Barcelona!" - London Evening Standard
That same evening, The Sun, known for its knack for catching gossip, reported the news, which quickly led to a wave of follow-up reports from other media outlets, and the news spread rapidly throughout the world of football.
As one of the most outstanding midfielders in football today, Fabregas, who is constantly involved in transfer rumors, has a very high level of attention in the world of football.
He was beaten with a stick? And by two young players?
This is indeed explosive news, the kind of celebrity gossip that fans love to see.
For a time, fans discussed the matter in various forums and spread it to more places, letting more people know about it.
"Two young players? How dare they hit the captain?"
"Your news is outdated. Fabregas has already fallen out with Arsenal. The new captain will be Van Persie."
"Even if he's not the captain, Fabregas is a meritorious player who helped Spain win the European Cup and the World Cup. His professional career is brilliant. How could anyone dare to attack him?"
"Too ungrateful."
"Maël, isn't that the guy who won the EFL Championship not long ago? He seems to have broken a lot of records and should have just finished his loan. Too impulsive."
"How will he get by at Arsenal in the future?"
"Why are you worrying about him? He doesn't have to care about your feelings. He plays for Arsenal, and it's enough if the Arsenal fans don't hate him."
"That's true... Fabregas seems to have already incurred the wrath of Arsenal fans. After this incident, Arsenal fans might like Maël and Gilbert even more, after all, they helped them vent their anger."
Someone chatted in other forums for a while, then went to the Arsenal fan forum to see what Arsenal fans thought about the matter.
"That little bastard, he deserves to be beaten!"
"Good beating!"
"Even if hitting someone is wrong... but we don't know what exactly happened at the time. If Fabregas was still trying to stir up trouble before leaving, I can only say, the two young men did a great job!"
"It wasn't good enough to be the captain in the team, how much effort did the club and Mr. Wenger put into cultivating him, but he had to make a transfer. Now look, even if he's beaten by young players, no one will speak up for him."
"He has a problem with his brain!"
"Leave quickly, I'm even afraid he'll leave late! Leave more transfer fees so that Mr. Wenger can buy more people in the new season. I'm quite looking forward to Maël."
Sure enough, most Arsenal fans expressed their support for this matter, with only a small number condemning Maël's behavior, probably Fabregas's die-hard fans.
This matter gradually passed, and the storm slowly subsided.
However, the image of Arsenal's two stick-wielding guests is definitely rooted in the minds of the fans and will never leave.
After the incident, their names became known to more people, and many wanted to pay attention to the performance of these two 'daring' young players in the new season.
The next day, Maël and Gilbert received a call from an assistant coach at the hotel, telling them that they had been suspended from training for a week.
This was actually a symbolic punishment, which could be regarded as giving the two a vacation in advance. This day to June 1st was exactly 7 days.
"Maël."
On the way to the stadium for extra training, Gilbert turned his head and asked, "Do you think Mr. Wenger will support us?"
"Probably not."
Maël shook his head. No matter what, he was a disciple who had been with him for 8 years, and he couldn't feel comfortable in his heart, "But he doesn't object either, which can be seen from the extent of the punishment."
"I think so too." Gilbert smiled faintly, his face slightly red, thinking of how he was so angry yesterday that Fabregas made him cry, he still felt a little embarrassed now.
Why was he so useless at the time?
Just because the other party is a superstar? Looking at it now, there's nothing wrong with fighting back... Gilbert patted the football, his expression becoming serious. He remembered Fabregas's insulting words to him yesterday.
"Maël."
He turned his head again, this time he was very serious: "I don't believe what Fabregas said is true, and I don't believe that I will never reach his level in my life.
"Although you may think so too, I myself cannot and will not think like that. People must have pursuits.
"From today onwards, I will work harder in training, with my enemy, Fabregas, as my goal!"
He swore to the sky and set this goal for himself, then smiled: "You too, work hard."
"I will."
Maël patted his shoulder, feeling that Gilbert was different again. "Have you thought about it? A loan, or staying here?"
"I've thought about it."
Gilbert hooked his arm around Maël's shoulders and said solemnly, "I want to go out on loan. I need a lot of game time, and I need to be tempered by high-level matches!"
"Only in this way can I improve faster. I can't think about staying at Arsenal as a substitute."
"When are you planning to leave?" Maël asked him again, feeling that Gilbert's words meant he would be leaving soon.
"I'll leave when the off-season starts."
Gilbert had planned this for a while, touching his hair as he said, "I want to venture out on my own. Being with you every day gives me a sense of comfort, like being with a good brother, and I don't want that feeling."
"I don't lack money now, so I want to choose a coastal city, practice and run on the beach under the sun, hire a few private coaches, and comprehensively improve all aspects of my abilities."
"Go for it." Maël nodded, supporting his decision.
"Will you miss me?" Gilbert looked up at the sky and asked jokingly.
They had been inseparable for a long time, experienced many things together, and even beat up a world superstar together yesterday. Their relationship couldn't be any stronger.
"Saying goodbye before you've even left."
Maël glanced at him with a smile and threw the football into a vacant pitch. "What's the rush? Train with me for another week."
Under the sunlight, the two of them started running on the training ground again. They laughed and regretted at times, sometimes clapping and celebrating together, and sometimes chasing and hitting each other.
Until the sun set, the two of them sat on the edge of the pitch, drenched in sweat, hydrating together, and staring blankly at the sky.
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