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God Of football

Chapter 365: US Tour [Golden Gacha - ] · Oct 10, 2026

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Chapter List (1057)

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351 Chapter 351: Tour 2026-10-10
352 Chapter 352: First Day At Work[Golden Ticket] 2026-10-10
353 Chapter 353: First Session 2026-10-10
354 Chapter 354: First Session, Completed 2026-10-10
355 Chapter 355: Finding The Right Piece [Nameyelus Gifts too much] 2026-10-10
356 Chapter 356: Izan’s Tactics 2026-10-10
357 Chapter 357: Prelude to Pre-Season 2026-10-10
358 Chapter 358: Just 2 Days 2026-10-10
359 Chapter 359: Watching From Afar [Golden Gachapon: Pistacho031_3 ] 2026-10-10
360 Chapter 360 - 2 in 26 [Golden Gachapon: Pistacho031_3 ] 2026-10-10
361 Chapter 361: Ball And Banter [Golden Gachapon: Pistacho031_3 ] 2026-10-10
362 Chapter 362: Saved By PR [Pistacho031_3]] 2026-10-10
363 Chapter 363: Arsenal’s Newest Man [Pistacho031_3]] 2026-10-10
364 Chapter 364: Pending Start[Gachapon Bonus] 2026-10-10
365 Chapter 365: US Tour [Golden Gacha - ] 2026-10-10
366 Chapter 366: Pre-Season Fever [Normal Release] 2026-10-10
367 Chapter 367: It Is Time [Golden Gacha, Pistacho031_3] 2026-10-10
368 Chapter 368: A Real Red Devil [Golden Gacha Pistacho_031_3] 2026-10-10
369 Chapter 369: A New Menace [Normal Release] 2026-10-10
370 Chapter 370: Football At Its Finest[Golden Gacha - ] 2026-10-10
371 Chapter 371: The NBA [Golden Gacha - ] 2026-10-10
372 Chapter 372: The American Game. 2026-10-10
373 Chapter 373: Night In LA [Normal Release] 2026-10-10
374 Chapter 374: Early Lead [Golden Gacha] 2026-10-10
375 Chapter 375: Foot On The PitChapter [Golden Gacha. Pistacho031_3] 2026-10-10
376 Chapter 376: Goal In LA [Normal Release] 2026-10-10
377 Chapter 377: Relentless Leverkusen [Final Gacha - ] 2026-10-10
378 Chapter 378: First Start 2026-10-10
379 Chapter 379: Something Greater 2026-10-10
380 Chapter 380: Late Night Escapades 2026-10-10
381 Chapter 381: Clash Of Two Titans 2026-10-10
382 Chapter 382: Clash Of Two Titans: [2] 2026-10-10
383 Chapter 383: War In A Coliseum 2026-10-10
384 Chapter 384: Brilliance Under The Lights 2026-10-10
385 Chapter 385: Egyptian Magic 2026-10-10
386 Chapter 386: Little Conductor 2026-10-10
387 Chapter 387: Halfway There 2026-10-10
388 Chapter 388: Halftime Antics 2026-10-10
389 Chapter 389: Troll 2026-10-10
390 Chapter 390: Against the Best [Golden Ticket] 2026-10-10
391 Chapter 391: Something Special 2026-10-10
392 Chapter 392: Pre-Season Conference 2026-10-10
393 Chapter 393: Unexpected(Golden Ticket) 2026-10-10
394 Chapter 394: Unspoken Words. 2026-10-10
395 Chapter 395: A World Of Their Own 2026-10-10
396 Chapter 396: League Preparations 2026-10-10
397 Chapter 397: Life At Colney 2026-10-10
398 Chapter 398: Whispers Of Fame 2026-10-10
399 Chapter 399: Moments Between Whistles 2026-10-10
400 Chapter 400: The Premier League 2026-10-10

Chapter 365: US Tour [Golden Gacha - ]

As expected, opposing fans wasted no time jumping on Arsenal after their 3-3 draw, flooding social media with jabs.

United fan: ”All that hype just to draw against Bournemouthʼs B team? Tears in my eyes.”

Chelsea fan: ”I thought Arteta was cooking? He better throw that recipe away.”

Spurs fan: ”Same old Arsenal. Season hasnʼt even started, and theyʼre bottling already.”

Liverpool fan: ”Imagine stressing over preseason. Your downfall will be historic.”

Arsenal fans, of course, werenʼt having it.

Arsenal fan: ”You lot are celebrating a preseason draw like you just won the league. Canʼt relate.”

Another Arsenal fan: ”Didnʼt Man United lose 4-1 to Wrexham last year? Be serious.”

One more for good measure: ”Talk when your club isnʼt a walking disaster. Focus on your own mess.”

Some fans were more level-headed.

Optimistic Arsenal fan: ”Relax, itʼs preseason. The real matches are what count. Weʼre still finding our rhythm.”

Another: ”At least we scored goals. The defensive mistakes will get ironed out.”

One slightly frustrated fan: ”I get itʼs preseason, but conceding three to Bournemouth is still crazy.”

The online back-and-forth raged on, but Izan was just scrolling through it all, shaking his head.

He sat by the window on the team bus, hoodie pulled up as he lazily refreshed his feed.

It was almost entertaining, the way football fans took every game—even preseason—like life and death.

A soft chuckle escaped him when he saw one Arsenal fan clapping back at United supporters:

Arsenal fan: ”Man United fans talking when their striker has 2 goals in 8 months. Focus on your own issues, bro.”

Another one got him laughing a little louder:

Arsenal fan: ”Spurs fans saying weʼre finished? Your greatest achievement is a DVD about finishing third.”

”Something funny?” a voice beside him asked.

Izan looked up to see Mikel Merino, who had settled into the seat next to him, stretching his legs out.

”Just fans going at each other,” Izan said, turning his phone slightly so Merino could see.

The older midfielder smirked as he read through the comments. ”Ah, this is normal. English football fans are… passionate.”

Izan huffed. ”Thatʼs one way to put it.”

Merino leaned back, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past them. ”Itʼs funny, though.

No matter what happens, theyʼll always find something to argue about.”

”Yeah,” Izan agreed. ”Preseason, Champions League final, doesnʼt matter. Itʼs football.”

Merino nodded, adjusting his seat slightly. ”By the way, you alright about not playing today?”

Izan exhaled. He had been a bit irked, sure. Not that he wasnʼt ready—he felt sharper than ever—but he understood Artetaʼs reasoning.

He was new to the squad, and preseason was about rotation, figuring out partnerships, and refining tactics but that wasnʼt an excuse.

Liquor and Calafiori, all new additions had gotten to play. Even though their positions varied, football was still football to him, a different country or not.

Watching the game from the bench, itching to get on, had been frustrating.

”I get it,” Izan said. ”Doesnʼt mean I like it, though.”

Merino chuckled. ”Yeah, thatʼs fair. I was in the same boat once. But weʼve got time. Itʼs a long season.”

Izan nodded, but deep down, he was already looking ahead. He wanted his moment. His chance to make an impact so he could at least shut up those pundits.

The bus rolled smoothly through the night, the vibrations of the engine a steady hum beneath them.

Some of the players were already dozing off, drained from the match.

Others were still awake—Saka and Martinelli, who had been all over the group chat earlier, were now arguing over something again.

Probably FIFA.

A few rows ahead, Arteta was seated near the front, speaking in low tones with his staff.

Even after the match, his mind was already focused on the next step.

They had a short break before flying out to the United States for their three-game preseason tour. That was where the real tests would come.

Izan glanced out the window one last time, watching as the city lights faded behind them. A new challenge was on the horizon.

....

Izan was half-asleep when his phone buzzed.

The bus had reached the airport, and most of the players were either stretching their legs or still slumped in their seats, reluctant to move.

He lazily pulled out his phone, expecting a message from his mom or maybe a notification about the flight. Instead, it was Miranda calling.

He sighed, rubbing his face before answering. ”Miranda.”

”Izan!” she greeted, her tone as energetic as ever. ”You landed yet?”

”Weʼre still on the bus. Heading into the airport now,” he muttered. ”Whatʼs up?”

”Well, I wanted to check in before you head to the States,” she said. ”Big tour coming up, lots of eyes on you.”

Izan exhaled, stretching his legs out. ”Yeah. Weʼve got three games lined up.”

”Good. Stay safe, all that,” she said before her tone shifted into something more playful. ”And also—stay marketable.”

Izan groaned. ”Miranda…”

”Iʼm serious! You barely post. I know you donʼt like all the PR stuff, but at least update your socials a little.”

”I literally posted after the Euros final.”

”That was weeks ago!” she shot back. ”Look, you didnʼt want a social media manager, which is fine, but at least make my life easier by, I donʼt know, posting a picture once in a while?”

Izan shook his head, amused. ”Iʼll think about it.”

Miranda sighed. ”Thatʼs all I get? A ʼthink about itʼ?”

”Yeah.”

”Ugh. Fine. Just—donʼt disappear off the face of the internet. Iʼll talk to you later.”

Izan chuckled as the call ended. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and finally stood up, following the rest of the team into the airport.

By the time he settled into his seat on the flight, curiosity got the better of him. He opened Instagram, scrolling through his notifications.

He hadnʼt checked in about a month—not since the Euros ended. Back then, he had around 8 million followers.

Now?

15 million.

Izan blinked. What?

He scrolled down, double-checking. Yep. 15 million.

A laugh bubbled out of him. ”Guess the Euros did me good,” he uttered silently while staring at the comments beneath his posts.

The tournament had already felt like a whirlwind, but seeing this kind of explosion in numbers made it feel even more surreal.

He hadnʼt even posted that much—just a few celebration photos after Spainʼs win, a couple of reposts of his teammatesʼ stories. And still, his following had nearly doubled.

He shook his head. Miranda was probably going to use this as fuel for her argument.

Still, he wasnʼt sure if heʼd ever get used to all of this.

...…

The days passed quickly. Training sessions, tactical meetings, recovery routines—it all blurred together.

Arsenal had wrapped up their first two preseason games in England, and now it was time for the real tour.

Izan found himself once again on a plane, but this time, the flight was much longer. Destination: The United States.

The team was spread out in first class, some already asleep, others watching movies or playing cards.

Izan had taken a window seat, his hoodie pulled over his head as he scrolled through his phone.

He wasnʼt much for long flights—heʼd rather be moving, doing something—but at least he wasnʼt alone in his boredom.

Across the aisle, Declan Rice was flipping through a magazine while Odegaard and Kiwior quietly played chess on a tablet.

A few rows back, a group had gathered around Trossardʼs iPad, watching a random documentary.

A sudden nudge from the seat next to him pulled Izan out of his thoughts.

”Bro, you sleeping?”

Izan turned his head, finding Bukayo Saka grinning at him.

”Does it look like Iʼm sleeping?” Izan muttered.

Saka laughed. ”Nah, but you looked deep in thought. What, already thinking about the tour games?”

Izan shrugged. ”Not really. Just passing time.”

Saka nodded, then leaned back in his seat. ”Gonna be a wild few weeks. Big crowds, big expectations.”

Izan knew what he meant. The U.S. tour wasnʼt just about fitness—it was a massive marketing push.

The games would be packed, the fans loud, and every moment would be scrutinized. For some players, this was a chance to impress Arteta before the season started.

For others, it was about fine-tuning their sharpness.

For Izan?

He just wanted to get on the pitch.

”Who we got first?” he asked.

Saka tilted his head. ”United. You didnʼt know?”

Izan exhaled through his nose. ”Figures.”

A preseason match against Manchester United meant headlines, no matter the stakes.

Even if it was just another friendly, the fans would turn it into something bigger.

Across the aisle, Gabriel Jesus, who had been half-listening, suddenly perked up.

”You think Erik ten Hag is sweating yet?” he joked.

Saka smirked. ”Probably writing a whole tactical analysis for a preseason game.”

Izan chuckled, shaking his head as the conversation continued.