From Arsenal to the Ball God

June 29, the second semi-final match of the European Championship is about to begin.

Starting from 1 p.m., everything is being meticulously prepared... the entire world of football is focused on Liv Stadium located in Kyiv, Ukraine, eagerly awaiting the upcoming match.

This stadium was originally a super large sports venue, capable of accommodating over 70,000 spectators to watch the game together.

”Woo woo...!”

But at this moment, tickets are extremely hard to come by, countless people outside are desperately begging touts, fabricating countless touching ’soccer viewing’ stories, hoping to win the touts’ pity to obtain a ticket at a reasonable price.

The fans are just so passionate; they cry outside just to laugh and scream inside later.

And many stories of overnight riches are also unfolding here, many fans from other national teams who had booked their tickets in advance encountered wealthy Germans and French, selling their tickets at exaggerated prices.

It is rumored that one hour before the match, someone sold a ticket for 27,400 pounds, which also exceeds the average local salary for 10 months.

Of course, the overly heated pre-match atmosphere also led to some unfortunate violent incidents.

Members of the El Salvador gang robbed a French fan who owned three tickets and injured him; also, German fans got into large-scale conflicts with French fans after drinking, resulting in many casualties.

The perpetrators were quickly brought to justice, but the impact they caused lingered long.

Nonetheless, everything falls into place for this explosive match... and it’s almost time for the official start.

The France team’s bus departed from the hotel at 4:20 p.m., receiving an escort from French fans along the way; they set off smoke bombs and fireworks on the streets to deter nearby German fans.

”Chichichi...!”

”Boom boom boom...!”

The site was shrouded in smoke, with occasional lights shooting into the sky, triggering constant roaring explosions.

Ma’el sat in the back row of the bus, drawing back the curtains to observe outside, feeling an atmosphere of joy so intense it was stifling.

As captain, sitting just behind the bus driver, he could see Deschamps at the door when he turned and looked forward.

He noticed the Basque had a stern face, blinking occasionally, his dark pupils exuding an aura of authority without anger.

Obviously, he was very nervous, likely recalling his experiences playing in the European Cup semi-finals during his career.

It seemed Deschamps noticed him watching, turning to smile briefly, albeit unattractively.

Ma’el nodded back with a smile, understanding why he wasn’t elated or excited at that moment, because he felt the same way.

Although they had often stated after the turmoil that entering the semi-finals eased the pressure significantly, allowing them to focus on competing for the championship without distractions.

But is that possible?

No, the external pressure might have diminished, but the internal pressure they exerted on themselves surged within.

Each knew how many eyes were full of expectations and how much mental solace they provided to countless people... upon failing, the hardest part would not be leaving the field, parting with honors, but the guilt of disappointing so many.

”Phew...” Ma’el routinely adjusted his emotions with deep breaths, closing his eyes and putting on headphones.

The bus soon rolled into Liv Stadium, and the team smoothly began warming up on the field where they previously played.

It was also then that players from the France team and Germany noticed their opponents.

Some of them are club teammates, but no greetings were exchanged, only distant nods... like two medieval infantry battalions confronting each other, they wouldn’t get too close.

At this moment, Deschamps spotted Löf in the distance; dressed in white, he ungracefully picked his nose and tasted it.

This made him frown, thinking of him as someone even more careless than himself.

Upon entering the locker rooms, both teams left an assistant coach on the field to monitor the watering conditions, informing the players to wear suitable cleats.

Ma’el also separated from the team, heading to the referee’s room to sign the fair play agreement as the team’s captain.

”Hello.”

In a small room, he encountered Germany’s captain Lam, proactively shaking hands to greet him, both faces without smiles, only courtesy and caution.

”We meet again.” Lam nodded at Ma’el, having played a friendly match against him at Bayern Munich, leaving a deep impression of his speed.

A year later, his speed seems less significant amidst his strengths, as he gained more powerful weapons, higher goal efficiency, and a value of over 100 million euros.

This improvement is astonishing, stronger than the explosive impact his speed once had.

However, how could they possibly hinder the opponent’s progress; all they could do was rack their brains and rely on team spirit to defeat the opponent!

”Pa!”

After signing the fair play agreement, they both exited, returning to their respective locker rooms.

Lam was the first to run back, listening to Löf’s tactical instructions, undoubtedly having more points to emphasize.

”Remember the attack I emphasized earlier? We must break through the opponent’s defense with terrifying impact, so they can’t raise their heads!”

Löf threw all front-line players into the France team’s penalty area, looking earnest and serious, ”This is a very challenging task, and it’s almost our only hope of victory!”