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God Of football

Chapter 784: Fruits Of Labour. · Oct 10, 2026

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Chapter List (1057)

Page number / 22

751 Chapter 751: News Out Of The Camp. 2026-10-10
752 Chapter 752: Prelude To The 2nd Leg. 2026-10-10
753 Chapter 753: Parisian Lights. 2026-10-10
754 Chapter 754: Feeling Out. 2026-10-10
755 Chapter 755: No Stopping Him. 2026-10-10
756 Chapter 756: Can’t Stop What You Can’t Touch. 2026-10-10
757 Chapter 757: Without Pride. 2026-10-10
758 Chapter 758: Desperate Paris. 2026-10-10
759 Chapter 759: Chaos In Paris. 2026-10-10
760 Chapter 760: Delirium 2026-10-10
761 Chapter 761: Uh-oh. 2026-10-10
762 Chapter 762: The Main Character. 2026-10-10
763 Chapter 763: The Last Two 2026-10-10
764 Chapter 764: Hero’s Welcome. 2026-10-10
765 Chapter 765: Hori: The Bane Of Izan. 2026-10-10
766 Chapter 766: “You.” 2026-10-10
767 Chapter 767: Fun Day 2026-10-10
768 Chapter 768: Lock Back In. 2026-10-10
769 Chapter 769: Team Sessions. 2026-10-10
770 Chapter 770: Same Page. 2026-10-10
771 Chapter 771: Saturday Night Live: The Izan Show. 2026-10-10
772 Chapter 772: Like Red Rag To A Bull. 2026-10-10
773 Chapter 773: Alter Ego. 2026-10-10
774 Chapter 774: Time To Back The Talk. 2026-10-10
775 Chapter 775: Backing The Talk. 2026-10-10
776 Chapter 776: Backing The Talk [2: Bonus] 2026-10-10
777 Chapter 777: Partey To Worse. 2026-10-10
778 Chapter 778: Resolution At Halftime. 2026-10-10
779 Chapter 779: Not Ready To Breathe. 2026-10-10
780 Chapter 780: Will Not Be Denied. 2026-10-10
781 Chapter 781: To Win It All. 2026-10-10
782 Chapter 782: What He’s Become. 2026-10-10
783 Chapter 783: What He Is. 2026-10-10
784 Chapter 784: Fruits Of Labour. 2026-10-10
785 Chapter 785: Fruits Of Labour [2] 2026-10-10
786 Chapter 786: The Generational Bag. 2026-10-10
787 Chapter 787: Mere Formality. 2026-10-10
788 Chapter 788: At The Death. 2026-10-10
789 Chapter 789: Trophy Celebrations. 2026-10-10
790 Chapter 790: A Week Later. 2026-10-10
791 Chapter 791: Rewards. 2026-10-10
792 Chapter 792: Overclocked Abilities. 2026-10-10
793 Chapter 793: Overclocked Abilities[2] 2026-10-10
794 Chapter 794: The Epitome Of Football. 2026-10-10
795 Chapter 795: Germany Again. 2026-10-10
796 Chapter 796: On The Road. 2026-10-10
797 Chapter 797: Arrival. 2026-10-10
798 Chapter 798: Arteta’s Zombies. 2026-10-10
799 Chapter 799: Saka’s Conclusions. 2026-10-10
800 Chapter 800: Long Morning. 2026-10-10

Chapter 784: Fruits Of Labour.

[North London

Hampstead]

As the faint light of morning crept through the curtains, drawing soft lines across the sheets, Izan stirred.

His body felt heavy from yesterday’s whirlwind, but when a hand draped lazily over his torso, his eyes opened fully.

He blinked, turning onto his side, and there she was, Olivia.

Her hair was a little messy, her nightgown slipping delicately against her shoulder, and her smile was warm enough to make the world outside irrelevant.

”Good morning, champ,” she whispered, her voice playful but soft.

Izan groaned, half-burying his face into the pillow before glancing at her again.

”My mind and body can’t handle things like that in the morning,” he muttered, lifting a finger and pointing toward her chest.

Olivia frowned, instinctively looking down at the neckline of her gown, only for Izan to pounce.

He caught her lips in a sudden kiss, deep enough to steal her breath and pull a laugh out of her throat as she tried to push him back.

When he broke away, his grin was mischievous.

”Can’t you resist doing this every time?” Olivia said as Izan’s lips left her neck, where they had found after her lips.

”I didn’t even get anything for winning the league last night,” he teased, his voice low and deliberate.

Her cheeks flushed instantly, a mixture of bashfulness and irritation painting her expression.

She gave him a tiny shove on the chest.

”Then maybe you should go see Miranda about that,” she fired back, though her tone betrayed how awake she suddenly was.

Izan chuckled, the sound rich and amused.

”Cute girlfriend I’ve got,” he said, sitting up and stretching before padding towards the master bathroom.

The tap squeaked as he twisted it open, cold water splashing over his face, chasing away the remnants of sleep.

He patted his cheeks, then leaned forward, gathering his dark hair in his hands, twisting it into its familiar bun.

Behind him, he caught Olivia’s reflection slipping into the bathroom, still in her nightgown, holding out a fresh tube of toothpaste.

”Here,” she said, offering it out.

Then her eyes narrowed, amusement flickering as she pointed.

”Honestly, one wouldn’t even know who the girlfriend is. Look at you with that hair.”

Izan finished the knot, a couple of strands falling naturally along his face before he turned, taking the toothpaste from her fingers.

”I thought you liked it,” he said, brow arching.

”At first I did,” Olivia admitted, folding her arms with a pout that was more adorable than she’d want to admit.

”But then you started getting more looks than me when we went out. Even with your mask on, it’s like everyone wants to see the face behind those stupid crystal blue eyes.”

Izan leaned against the counter, smirking, watching her as though she was far more entertaining than anything on his phone.

”So, in truth, you’re jealous,” he said, drawing closer before sliding his arms around her waist from behind.

Olivia squirmed, trying to pry herself free.

”I am not,” she huffed, wriggling against his hold.

But his grip didn’t falter, and eventually her resistance waned.

She sighed, shoulders relaxing, a smile sneaking its way back onto her lips.

Izan rested his chin on her shoulder, his voice quiet now, intimate.

”Too bad, because I only ever wanted you to look at me like that.”

He pressed a light kiss against her neck, then whispered, ”I love you.”

The words settled between them, warm and unshakable, as Olivia stopped moving entirely, her hand reaching up to cover his.

”Smoothtalker,” she uttered as she turned to take Izan’s lips in hers.

.....

The air of a morning bath still clung to Izan as he padded down the stairs.

There, the smell of fresh coffee and toasted bread filled the air before he even reached the bottom step.

Komi was already waiting, her hair pinned up neatly, her sleeves rolled back like she had been busy in the kitchen.

The moment she spotted him, her whole face lit up.

”There’s my champion,” she declared, her voice brimming with pride as she moved away from the dining table.

Izan sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he stepped into the kitchen.

”I thought you were done,” he said, half-amused. ”You literally cradled my cheeks like I was five years old last night when I got back.”

Instead of denying it, Komi walked straight up to him and did it again, both hands gently framing his face, eyes sparkling as if she hadn’t seen him in years.

”I can never get enough,” she said softly, before letting go and nudging him toward the kitchen island.

”Now, come on. I’m done with your superstar breakfast. Leave what’s on the table for those Divas.”

He let himself be pulled, shaking his head with a small laugh as she guided him to the sleek glass-and-steel island that dominated the kitchen.

Sitting on one of the tall stools, Izan immediately tapped at the glossy surface at the corner of the island.

The interactive screen came alive beneath his fingers, displaying headlines stacked one after another.

”’Izan Hernández: The Prodigy Who Ended Liverpool’s Dynasty before it even began.’”

He scrolled lazily.

”...’Arsenal’s Seventeen-Year-Old Captain: The Youngest in Premier League History.’”

Another flick of his finger revealed another dramatic headline.

”’The Goal Heard Around the World.’”

Every media house was dressing the same truth in their own exaggerations.

Izan sighed again and shut the screen with a swipe, letting its tinted cover slide back into place.

”Too much,” he muttered, leaning on his elbow as Komi set a plate in front of him just then, eggs, toast, and a colourful array of fruit, perfectly arranged.

She rested a hand on his shoulder.

”You’ve done well,” she said, her voice gentler now, as though she could sense the weight of all those headlines pressing down on him.

”Rest now. That’s all you need to think about.”

Izan forked into the food obediently, chewing as he thought of what rest actually meant these days.

Just as he swallowed, he caught the faint mechanical hum from outside and the deep rumble of the garage gates sliding open.

His brows furrowed.

”I doubt I could rest,” he said under his breath.

Komi only smiled knowingly, shaking her head. ”You’ll never escape it,” she teased.

A few minutes later, the sound of heels clicked against the marbled floors.

Miranda swept into the kitchen, her long coat falling neatly behind her as if she had just stepped out of a boardroom.

She set her handbag on one of the racks by the island, then slid into a stool opposite Izan.

”Morning,” she said casually, as if she hadn’t just come from business.

”Morning,” Izan replied, mouth full as he stabbed another piece of toast. He chewed, then tilted his head toward her.

”Where’d you go this early?”

Miranda glanced at him, her expression cool, controlled, but her eyes carried the faintest spark of satisfaction.

”To collect bonuses,” she said simply, reaching for a slice of fruit from the platter.

Then, after a pause, she added, ”And what was due us.”

Her attention shifted fully to her plate, as if nothing more needed to be said.

Komi chuckled softly, brushing crumbs off the counter as Izan only shook his head, amused at how Miranda could make something so monumental sound like a trip to the corner store.

After a while, the quiet clink of cutlery was broken by the sound of footsteps descending the stairs.

Izan didn’t even need to look up to know who it was, as the sigh that followed gave it away.

Hori trudged into the kitchen like she’d been through extra time and penalties, hair sticking out in every direction, eyes half-lidded, her hoodie slouched off one shoulder.

She dropped onto the stool across from him with a groan, then immediately stood back up and wandered to the fridge.

Izan let out a chuckle, unable to help himself. ”You look worse than me, and I actually played.”

Hori ignored the jab, pulling out a bottle of water.

She twisted the cap with unnecessary aggression and downed half of it in one go, throat working like she’d been stranded in a desert.

Still unsatisfied, she shoved the water back in and swapped it for a carton of milk.

Olivia came in right behind her, stretching her arms overhead.

She blinked at Hori, then tilted her head.

”What on earth happened in your sleep to make you look like this?”

Hori kept drinking, pointedly not responding.

Olivia raised her eyebrows, lips twitching. ”That bad, huh?”

The only answer was the dull thunk of the milk carton hitting the counter as Hori wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and slumped into the nearest chair, eyes already glazing over.

Miranda, who had been quietly checking something on her phone, slipped it into her pocket and stood.

She glanced at Izan, then nodded toward the other room.

”When you’re done wolfing that down, come and see the fruits of your labour in the living room.”

Izan looked down at his plate and saw only a few scraps left, so he scooped them up quickly, chewing fast as if the food might vanish otherwise.

With a satisfied push of the fork aside, he rose and followed her out, leaving Hori half-asleep at the table and Olivia shaking her head at the whole scene.

The living room opened wide with its clean lines and glass expanse, sunlight catching the edges of the windows and stretching into the space.

Whatever Miranda meant by ”fruits of his labour” waited there.

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