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God Of football

Chapter 377: Relentless Leverkusen [Final Gacha - ] · Oct 10, 2026

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Chapter List (1057)

Page number / 22

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 377: Relentless Leverkusen [Final Gacha - ]

”Izanʼs goal has lifted the Stadium, but thereʼs still time for more drama. Leverkusen wonʼt go quietly and Iʼm guessing we should expect a response from Xabi Alonsoʼs men.”

The stadium still pulsed from Izanʼs breathtaking strike. His curling effort, kissed by the floodlights, had found the top corner with an artistry that made time stand still.

The crowd had erupted in a wave of deafening euphoria, fans on their feet, arms raised in disbelief at the sheer brilliance of the goal.

But as Izan jogged back to midfield after his basketball-inspired celebration, he knew—this game was far from over.

Leverkusen had no intention of rolling over.

”And here they come again! Alonso urging his team forward. They know thereʼs a window to strike back while Arsenal are still adjusting after that goal.”

From the restart, Leverkusen charged forward with renewed intensity.

Xhaka, now playing like a man possessed, barked orders, dragging his teammates higher up the pitch, pushing Arsenal deep into their half.

He pointed straight at Izan, a silent command to his teammates that they couldnʼt allow him the same space again.

Arsenal, however, refused to sit back. Izan moved into the half-space, receiving a pass from Ødegaard, but before he could turn, Xhaka was on him.

The Swiss midfielder pressed aggressively, using his body to close Izan down before he could pivot.

Izan held his ground, feeling Xhakaʼs weight against his back, then attempted to spin away near the center circle.

But Xhaka nudged him just enough to disrupt his balance. The ball bobbled loose. Leverkusen pounced.

”Xhaka wins it back in midfield—Leverkusen are on the front foot! Florian Wirtz now, looking to make something happen!”

Wirtz was everywhere. The young German, so fluid and intelligent in his movement, picked up the ball on the left, skipped past White with a delicate feint, and drove toward the box.

Arsenalʼs defense scrambled. Saliba tracked back, trying to cut off his angle, but Wirtz exchanged a quick one-two with Schick at the edge of the area, found a sliver of space, and let fly.

The shot was low, vicious, curling toward the bottom corner.

”Wirtz goes for goal but Raya saves! Strong hand to keep it out!”

The ball spilled dangerously into the six-yard box.

For a moment, panic. Gabriel lunged to clear it, hammering the ball away before Schick could react. But the danger wasnʼt over.

Leverkusen kept coming. Another wave of pressure.

Then came the moment that sent Arsenal hearts sinking.

A routine pass into the box—seemingly harmless—turned into disaster. Gabriel lunged to clear it, barely clipping the ball, but Wirtz was already anticipating.

He took a clever touch.

Then came the slightest contact.

Wirtz went down.

Whistle.

”Penalty! Oh, you can hear the gasps inside the Stadium!”

The referee pointed to the spot. Arsenal players surrounded him, protesting, but the decision was made. No VAR review. No hesitation.

”Leverkusen have their lifeline! Arsenal protest, but Gabriel did catch him. Now itʼs all on Raya—can he keep Arsenal in front?”

Wirtz, ice-cold under pressure, stepped up.

Raya bounced on his line, arms outstretched.

The fans held their breath watching on as Wirtz set the ball down.

Wirtz exhaled, took two steps, and struck the ball with venom.

GOOOOOAAAAAALLLLL

”Wirtz… scores! No chance for Raya! Itʼs 3-3! Leverkusen are level, and Xabi Alonso roars in approval!”

Leverkusenʼs players mobbed Wirtz, while Xhaka pumped his fist, shouting toward the Leverkusen jerseys in the stands.

On the other side, Arsenal players stood still. Gabriel, hands on his head, looked devastated.

Izan exhaled sharply, hands on his hips, his jaw tightening.

He stared at the Leverkusen players celebrating, then turned to the scoreboard. 3-3.

”And just like that, all of Arsenalʼs hard work has been undone. Itʼs now a test of character. Who wants it more? This preseason match has turned out well”

With five minutes left in regulation, the match restarted.

Izanʼs mind sharpened. Every pass carried urgency. Every touch had weight.

He drifted into deeper pockets, demanding the ball, pulling the strings with Ødegaard and Rice, trying to probe the gaps in Leverkusenʼs now slightly deeper shape.

Zinchenko, overlapping on the left, found him in space. Izan let the ball run across his body, forcing Frimpong to step out.

The defender lunged but Izanʼs first touch flicked the ball over Frimpongʼs boot, before he accelerated, darting into the space left behind.

The crowd roared as he advanced toward the box, defenders converging. Izan spotted Saka making a run in behind and clipped the ball toward him.

Saka let it drop over his shoulder and volleyed the ball but ie went just wide.

”Arsenal so close! Izan unlocking the defense again, but Saka canʼt quite apply the finish!”

Time was slipping away.

The next sequence down the right saw White whip a cross into the box, forcing a panicked clearance after Havertz tried to head it.

The ball deflected off Tapsoba and rolled out for a corner kick

”And now, Arsenal with one final opportunity. Every Leverkusen player back to defend. Izan to take it. Can they snatch it at the death?”

Izan wiped the sweat from his brow as he placed the ball in the quadrant. He took a deep breath.

Gabriel, who had conceded the penalty, made eye contact.

This was his moment.

Ding, [Pinpoint Accuracy LV 3 activated]

The delivery was perfect.

A wicked, dipping ball, curling toward the far post.

Gabriel rose above everyone, hands tugging his shirt down but his met the ball before sending a thumping header towards goal.

”Gabriel rises… HE SCORES! REDEMPTION! GABRIEL MAKES AMENDS!”

Gabriel pounded his chest, sprinting toward the corner flag, the crowd roaring behind as his teammates swarmed him.

Izan followed but kept his celebration calm—just pointing toward Gabriel, acknowledging the moment.

The referee glanced at his watch.

Seconds later, the whistle blew.

”…And thereʼs the final whistle! Arsenal edge out Leverkusen in a thrilling 4-3 victory!

A match full of quality, drama, and some serious individual brilliance—none more so than Izan, who stole the show with that stunning goal and a late assist to seal it!”

The crowdʼs energy still pulsed through the stadium as players began exchanging handshakes, exhaustion setting in after a fiercely contested preseason match.

Some swapped jerseys, others engaged in brief conversations, and a few simply made their way toward the tunnel, focused on recovery.

Izan, still catching his breath, ran a hand through his damp hair as he felt a presence beside him. Wirtz.

The Leverkusen playmaker gave him a nod. ”Good game.”

Izan returned it. ”You too.”

No need for unnecessary words. They had faced off at the Euros, crossed paths at the Kopa Trophy ceremony, and now battled again under different circumstances.

The mutual respect was there, unspoken but clear.

As they walked toward the tunnel, Wirtz glanced over. ”Howʼs London treating you?”

Izan shrugged, a small smirk forming. ”Not bad. Still settling in.”

Wirtz huffed a quiet chuckle. ”Doesnʼt look like it.”

Izan didnʼt bite. He knew what Wirtz meant—his performance tonight had been far from a player still finding his rhythm. But he wasnʼt one for self-praise.

Instead, he downplayed it, rolling his shoulders. ”Just getting started.”

Wirtz nodded as if he expected that answer. ”Yeah. I figured.”

They reached the tunnel entrance, where both teams were beginning to disperse—some players heading to the dressing room, others lingering on the pitch for post-match routines.

As Izan stepped into the tunnel, the air inside was thick with the lingering energy of the match.

The echoes of fans outside still rumbled faintly through the walls, but in there, the game was over.

Arsenalʼs players filed into the locker room, some still talking about the match, others heading straight for their seats to cool down.

The scent of sweat and fresh grass clung to their jerseys as they peeled them off, tossing them into the bins at the center of the room.

Ice packs were already being passed around, along with water bottles and electrolyte drinks.

The atmosphere was light—exhaustion mixed with satisfaction.

Mikel Arteta entered shortly after, his presence immediately drawing everyoneʼs attention.

He clapped his hands twice, nodding as he took a glance around the room.

”Good work, all of you,” he began, his voice firm but carrying a note of approval.

”Preseason or not, this was a proper test. And we responded well.

We were sharp, we controlled the game in phases, and when things got tough, we found solutions. Thatʼs what I want to see.”

He took a moment, his eyes scanning across the players, then continued.

”Physically, itʼs not easy. These matches are designed to push you, and we still have work to do, but this is how we build momentum.

Enjoy the win, recover well, and be ready for the next one.”

As the coach stepped back, conversations picked up again. A few players slapped Izanʼs back in passing, acknowledging his impact on the game.

Bukayo Saka gave him a grin as he walked by. ”That basketball celebration, though? You been practicing?”

Izan smirked. ”Something like that.”

He settled onto the bench, untying his boots, as the room slowly transitioned from post-match analysis to preparation for departure.

Some players headed for the showers, others packed their bags, the hum of casual chatter filling the space.

Preseason or not, it was another game in the books. Another step forward.

A/n: Damn. We finally arrived. Last Golden Gacha Chapter. Anyways. Have fun reading and Iʼll see you in the evening.

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