"ArsenalArsenal!!"
Inside the Emirates Stadium, as the game approached the 80-minute mark, the Arsenal fans' cheers gradually increased, though inevitably tinged with tension.
Playing at home, losing their first game of the season to Fulham, who were in the lower half of the table, would definitely affect the players' mentality.
They weren't afraid of losing. For many long-time fans, they had long accepted the outcome of a single game with equanimity.
Their fear was that the team, which had been advancing triumphantly all season, would be hit hard by this and find it difficult to regain its winning momentum on the field.
That was what really mattered!
The Premier League title, the honor that so many Arsenal fans had dreamed of for years, had finally shown a glimmer of hope this season.
Who could restrain their expectations? Who could suppress their worries? For more than a decade, from the glory of returning to the top stage to the disappointment of falling back into mediocrity, the Gunners' mentality had become somewhat fragile.
In the past, if you asked them, most would wave their hands self-deprecatingly, taking the initiative to say that the team did not have the funds and strength to compete for major titles.
But when they truly saw a spark of hope, who would be willing to let it be extinguished?
Any slight disturbance would make them feel a little apprehensive, even if the situation was not that serious.
"Remember the last time the team won the title? More than seven years ago."
In the Arsenal die-hard fan zone, people clapped and cheered while chatting with those around them with nostalgic expressions.
"Of course, I remember the specific record, 26 wins and 12 draws in 38 games of the season, winning the title undefeated with 90 points."
One fan laughed. This was a beautiful memory deeply buried in their hearts. "Henry scored 30 goals in the Premier League that season, right? And I think he had a few assists."
"Are you trying to say that the team's starting record this season has also given you hope of winning the title undefeated?" Another fan joined their chat with a smile.
"Haha... I know that kind of opportunity is rare and hard to come by, it's hard to do, but the opening record is really good, it makes people have fantasies."
"You're right, our opening record this season is even better than that season, and we have one more person worth entrusting?"
"You mean Maël?"
More and more people joined their chat, seemingly using this method to divert their attention. The atmosphere inside the stadium was very tense and oppressive at the moment.
"Isn't it? He has already scored 15 goals in the league. Who would say that he has no chance of scoring 30 goals?"
"If that's the case, I'm going to place a bet on him for the Golden Boot award. It looks like the odds are not small... 30 goals is generally a sure-fire result for winning the Golden Boot."
"The odds don't seem to be high now. When he first came here, the odds in this regard were very scary. Those who placed bets at that time must be living in expectation every day."
Someone glanced at the scoreboard while chatting and found that the time was approaching 85 minutes.
For a moment, many people slowly let go of their hanging hearts and were already convincing themselves how to accept this defeat.
"Bang!"
On the field, Maël, after holding the ball on the wing, sent a cross towards the middle, but the ball was blocked by the opponent's defender and fell back to his feet.
Because he had rested well, he didn't feel too tired even after rushing until now, but he was mentally exhausted.
Fulham's six-three-one ultimate iron barrel formation completely sealed off the area from their penalty area to the top of the arc, leaving very little space to receive the ball.
There were seven players standing in the penalty area alone, and two more players near the penalty area line protecting the second ball at the top of the arc, with one player at the front as a counter-attack point to prevent Arsenal from pressing up across the board.
"Bang bang bang!"
As soon as Maël got the ball, two defenders rushed over from the front and back, and one person immediately chased back from behind, with two or three people protecting the position slightly closer to the center.
When more than five people are waiting in full battle to watch over you, unless one or two of them make mistakes, you can use breaking through them to create a chain reaction among the others, otherwise it is impossible to get past.
The defenders' two legs are like two whips. It's easy to dodge two whips, but it's a bit difficult to dodge four whips coming from all directions at the same time.
Not to mention six, eight, or ten.
Many goals where one player dribbles past five or six people in a row are actually five or six consecutive one-on-one breakthroughs or two or three one-on-two breakthroughs in a counter-attack.
With Maël's current ability, he will definitely have the opportunity to do this kind of goal.
The first two goals in the game between France and Belgium were similar goals. At that time, Belgium's defense was relatively loose.
After his Rhythm rises to lv4, the probability of scoring similar goals will be higher, and the anaerobic running ability increased by Stamina rising to lv4 will also improve the success rate a lot.
At that time, as long as there are counter-attacks, he might often be able to produce classic solo goals like the peak Henry the Great, like when facing Liverpool and Real Madrid.
But in positional warfare with super-dense defense, the current him, even with peak Henry, doesn't have a high probability of dribbling past everyone to score.
Maybe when either his dribbling or an additional skill reaches lv5, or both reach lv5, he will have enough confidence.
Or, to increase the success rate indirectly, raising Fancy Dribbling to lv4 might occasionally create miraculous effects! Already top-tier, but a long way to go!
Compared to the abilities required for his ultimate goal, he is still far from enough. Bearing the title of a top striker, scoring 30+ goals a year is far from his pursuit's upper limit.
"Bang!"
Maël took the ball back a step and passed it to Arteta, the midfielder on his side, who lofted the ball towards the center.
Van Persie and Walcott stood in the middle, with Gervinho waiting at the far post, but listening to these three names, their ability to attack the ball, except for Van Persie, is pitifully poor.
"Pa!"
The football was easily cleared by Fulham's center-back, posing no threat.
"Why don't you go in too?"
Arteta, seeing that Maël couldn't find a breakthrough space on the wing, suggested, "You jump high, sometimes you can head the ball."
Maël waved his hand and shook his head. Him going in now would completely cut off one of the team's arms. With him attracting three or four people to defend him on the wing and in the center, his teammates still have a little space.
If he goes in, it's all for nothing. Everyone squeezes in the middle, and it just depends on who's headstrong.
"That's true." Arteta quickly thought of this too, waving his hand at Maël. This suggestion was indeed very average.
There's no way around it, the situation is already at a very critical moment, and most people can't stay calm.
"Bang!"
Ramsey, the midfielder on the other side, seemed to find space at this moment, lofting a high ball into the penalty area, but unfortunately, the football was still cleared by the defending players.
Maël wandered a few steps towards the center, trying to pull out the few people marking him, while also looking for a chance for a long shot.
But it's still difficult, there's no gap left for him. Fulham's players seem to be going all the way with him.
"Bang!!"
Two minutes later, he suddenly used his acceleration ability to get to the landing point of a second ball, and hurriedly unleashed a powerful volley before the opposing players could follow up.
But he didn't manage to keep it down, and the football howled over the crossbar, smashing into the stands.
"Ah!" The Arsenal fans behind the net reached out to intercept the football, while also erupting in a burst of regret.
Maël slapped his right leg. If this ball had gone in, all the problems would have been solved, but unfortunately, similar shots won't always go his way.
Volley lv4!
His desire for this ability has also risen several levels at this moment. Only with strong comprehensive abilities can he score unexpected goals when the opportunity arises.
Turning his head to look at the time, it's the 89th minute. He also looked at the Fulham players, and found that there was no relaxation on their faces, but instead, they were defending more and more attentively.
"Everyone up! Everyone up!"
Wenger on the sidelines came to the touchline and waved his hands, signaling the two center-backs dragging in the midfield position to also find opportunities to move up and increase the number of attacking players.
The Superman tactic is coming.
If it's the last wave of attack, even the goalkeeper Szczęsny has to join in, seeking a chance to compete for a header.
"Ah!" A Fulham player suddenly clutched his leg in pain and fell to the ground, patting the grass to signal the team doctor to enter the field quickly, taking advantage of a dead ball.
A conventional time-wasting operation. The 3 points against a team at the top of the standings are extremely important for a team at the bottom.
This is not only a good opportunity to improve the ranking, but also a battle to turn things around and increase confidence! At this moment, the injury time board was raised, with 2 minutes of added time in the second half.
The melancholy in Wenger's face increased a bit. The time wasted during injury time cannot be added by the referee.
As long as the time passes 92 minutes, Fulham's coaches and players, including their traveling fans, will put pressure on the referee.
"Hey! Stop the clock! Hey!"
Knowing that the hope was slim, he still walked towards the fourth official, trying to get him to communicate with the referee through the headset.
"Boo! Boo! Boo!" The Arsenal fans in the stadium also made boos and noises at the right time, putting pressure on the referee.
The head referee raised the hand with his watch high, indicating that he would add time as he saw fit.
The Fulham players didn't move at this point, just clenched their fists, hoping time would pass faster.
By the time the downed player had slowly finished receiving treatment and walked to the side of the field, the game time had already passed 91 minutes and 20 seconds.
"Bip!"
The long-stalled dead ball finally sounded, and Arsenal's Vermaelen and Koscielny passed the ball to each other in the backfield, advancing forward whenever they found an opportunity.
After reaching the frontcourt, they passed the ball to Maël on the left wing. This was the area with the highest success rate of attack; if they didn't trust him, there was really no one else to trust.
"Boom!!"
Maël then found an opportunity to send a cross into the penalty area, the football cutting towards the opponent's penalty area like an incredibly sharp scimitar.
Vermaelen and Koscielny had already rushed into the penalty area at this time, and all Arsenal players except the goalkeeper had arrived in the opponent's danger zone.
"Boom!" Koscielny's subsequent header caused all Arsenal fans to stir, and countless eyes followed the football he headed out.
"Poof!"
A muffled sound rang out, and Fulham goalkeeper Schwarzer quickly moved to the landing point of the football and caught it in his arms.
Not in!
"Hiss!" Countless people gasped, looking at the wall of sighs today, a sense of frustration rising in their hearts.
Schwarzer hugged the football and lay on the ground until the referee rushed over and gave him a yellow card, then he got up and slowly kicked the ball towards the Arsenal backcourt sideline.
This was the best option now; Arsenal had to send someone back to take a throw-in before advancing again.
When Gervinho ran back quickly and threw the throw-in to goalkeeper Szczęsny, the latter signaled Gervinho to go forward, and then dribbled the ball towards Fulham's backfield alone.
At this time, the game time on the scoreboard had officially passed 92 minutes.
"Watch the time! Hey!!"
Fulham's coach jumped up and down on the sidelines, expressing his dissatisfaction, pointing to his wrist and protesting to the referee.
Seeing that the referee didn't react, he pretended to be crazy, sometimes hitting the rain shelter, sometimes opening his arms and roaring at the fourth official, "Damn it, do you have to wait until Arsenal scores before you blow the whistle?!"
"Whistles!"
Fulham's fans also began to exert their strength at this moment, everyone stood up to put on the final pressure.
"Xu Xu~~!"
"Dog referee, blow the whistle quickly, or you won't be able to leave London today!"
"Tell your wife and children to be careful!"
"Hurry up!"
At the center of the public opinion, the head referee glanced at his watch under pressure, sweat dripping from his forehead.
Sometimes, it wasn't that he could add the time back if he wanted to; the pressure was indeed great, and those who hadn't stood here wouldn't know.
"Boom!"
Szczęsny kicked the ball to Maël, and then inserted himself into the penalty area.
The goalkeeper was up too!
Everyone knew that this would be the last one or two waves of attack. That guy with the whistle would soon succumb to the Fulham fans.
"Boom boom boom!"
After Maël got the ball, he dribbled it a few times, constantly observing the situation in the penalty area. At least 15 people were piled up in the penalty area, and the rest were on the sidelines.
He felt some pressure rising in his heart. He was very clear that the expectations of all Arsenal fans fell on his feet alone.
His teammates in the penalty area were waiting, Wenger behind him was watching, and the fans were also praying whether the team could retreat with points, it all depended on the quality of his shot.
He adjusted the ball to his more confident right foot, and finally observed the position of the opponent's goalkeeper Schwarzer, to prevent him from directly attacking and taking the football.
"Boom!!"
Then he took a deep breath, placed his supporting foot at the most comfortable distance, and swung his body to send a curved ball towards the goal.
Maël placed all his hopes on this ball, staring at its flight path after kicking, watching it curve towards the far post.
There, Fulham's two center-backs faced off against Arsenal's two center-backs, all four leaping to head the ball.
These were perhaps the best headers on the field, standing together not by coincidence.
"Come on!!" Maël's face flushed with excitement as he pumped his fist, seeing Vermaelen gain the upper hand, about to head the ball.
"Bang!"
A dull thud echoed as Vermaelen's forehead squarely met the ball, successfully winning the header! Goalkeeper Schwarzer, without time to panic, hurriedly dove towards the far corner where the ball was headed, closing his eyes in the process.
"Swish!"
"Thump!"
The sound of the ball hitting the net followed, along with Schwarzer's crash to the ground.
Goal!
One-one!
Arsenal avoided defeat!
"Yeeaahhh!!" The roar erupting from Emirates Stadium carried an overwhelming force, all the fans instantly entering a state of extreme joy, waving their arms wildly.
This certainly wasn't a glorious match; a home draw against Fulham wasn't usually cause for celebration.
But the unbeaten streak continued! The team wouldn't be demoralized!
One point was a small matter; maintaining momentum was crucial!
"I remember that season!"
One fan, jumping wildly, waved his arms excitedly, "We came close to losing the 'invincible record' at least seven or eight times, encountering trouble against both strong and weak teams, but someone always stepped up!
"Maël! A valuable assist! Vermaelen's goal redeemed his mistake!"
Another fan kept touching his heart, shaking his head and sighing, "Gol! We managed to hang in there, scoring a goal at the last minute! Fulham's defense was almost perfect today; they had no weaknesses! Fortunately, all the Arsenal players didn't give up! Come on! I have faith in this team! Keep going! 13 rounds, 33 points! Excellent performance!"
Off the field, in front of the Arsenal coaching bench.
"Oh!!"
Wenger, with his jacket zipped halfway up, rushed out, placing his arms on either side of his head, as if showing off his arm muscles, but actually just shaking them.
Having personally created the invincible season, he knew very well what this last-minute equalizer meant.
Sometimes, you just encounter very tough opponents who create problems you couldn't have imagined before the match, far exceeding their actual strength, making you doubt yourself.
But as long as you fight through these matches one by one, eventually, everyone can calmly face every opponent, calmly accept every team's sudden surge in performance, and get used to clinging on and scoring points against them.
That's when the team will truly approach that invincible season team! "That brat!"
Wenger, looking at Vermaelen's figure, couldn't help but say, "I thought that loss in the national team had damaged his confidence, but I didn't expect him to regain it with a goal."
"And it was Maël's assist!" Philip walked up, excitedly saying, "His subconscious might forget that match, reinforcing the idea that Maël is his teammate, which is sometimes quite important."
"Retrieved! The Premier League schedule for November is about to end like this; although not all wins, being unbeaten is not bad!"
"Aahh!"
On the field, Maël felt ecstatic the moment he saw the ball hit the net, standing in place with his arms outstretched, closing his eyes to enjoy the atmosphere inside the stadium.
Celebrating a draw against Fulham... Having just scored a hat-trick for the national team, he certainly hadn't expected this.
But now, this emotion uncontrollably spread throughout his brain, even his entire body.
At the last moment, his cross helped the team secure a hard-fought point, preserving the season's unbeaten record!
His 7th assist! The team's 33rd point! Perhaps from this moment on, the seed of hope for achieving the invincible feat and winning the championship of the 0304 season sprouted in his heart.
In his first club match after entering a new chapter in his life, he truly experienced the difficulty that the Premier League sometimes brings. But the idea of challenging for a legend in this highly competitive arena became even stronger.
This arena has witnessed countless inspirational stories and brilliant journeys, but it's far more than that.
There are also generations of mainstays who stick to it here, they also shed countless sweat here, fighting for victory, giving everything.
Maybe they are not famous, have no attention, and often taste the bitterness of failure, but think about it, no one who can set foot on this arena is not a genius.
They were the best among their peers since childhood. If they were born in a weak football country, they might be the one attracting worldwide attention, the idol of the younger generation, and the pride of a family.
They are not NPCs at the mercy of others, not just small stones on the path of superstars, but players who also have dreams and pursuits.
It is because of the competitiveness and challenges they bring that the entire league becomes better, the championship becomes more valuable, and the god-like status of those legends becomes so stable.
Together with those familiar names, they turn this place into a dream-chasing arena, creating a league ecosystem sufficient to support the 'birth of legends'.
Defeat them!
Again and again, defeat them with stronger personal abilities and better spirit!
Even if you lose to them or draw, don't be discouraged, acknowledge that they did well, and strive to leave their stadium with your head held high in victory next time!
Let your name slowly become bound to this arena, becoming a peak admired by countless latecomers, a myth in football! Maël smiled happily at this moment. He saw Vermaelen rushing towards him, saw the Arsenal players following along, and also saw the Fulham players excitedly running towards the referee.
"Yeah!!"
They then celebrated wildly in the stands, high-fiving countless enthusiastic fans, and finally, many people ran to the coaching bench to hug Wenger.
"Beep! Beep! Beep—!"
When the whistle blew to end the match, the Fulham players once again surrounded the referee, their coach rushing out of the coaching bench with a flushed face, demanding an explanation.
Maël and a group of Arsenal players slipped into the locker room, smiling as they ended this week's journey.
It can be considered a smooth landing.
...
In the post-match press conference, Wenger and Maël attended together. Because Vermaelen scored an own goal, Maël was still named the best player of the match.
This is his fourth best player award in the Premier League, which is very precious.
"The players played very well."
Wenger attended the press conference in a calm mood, and said with a faint smile: "10 wins and 3 draws in 13 rounds, with 33 points.
"Leading Manchester United, who is second, by 2 points, and Chelsea, who is third, by 3 points, I think it's very good."
Maël then also answered questions about the Monthly Best award, he said with a smile, "I heard that Agüero is in very good form this month, maybe he will win his second Monthly Best trophy in his Premier League career.
"But my performance this month is not bad either, I am very satisfied myself. Congratulate Agüero in advance? Haha, maybe.
"But at least, when a player who entered the Premier League arena with me at the same time has 2 Monthly Best awards, I have a clear goal to chase."
His answer showed a good attitude, and the reporters present were all moved.
The starting point of Argentine star Agüero is different from that of Maël. He has already proven himself in Atlético Madrid in La Liga, while Maël is just a rookie player from a lower-level league.
The two of them should not have been compared together. But now they are not only being compared together, but they are also competing with each other.
Moreover, from the scorer list, Maël is still ranked ahead of Agüero!
"Maël, have you looked at the Golden Boot odds? You have now surpassed Agüero and also Džeko, and have come to third place.
"Ahead of you, there are only Van Persie and Rooney, two stars who can guarantee efficient performance every season."
"I suspect you are tempting me to buy some." Maël pointed at the reporter and smiled, "I won't be fooled, I will abide by the professional ethics of a player, you can help me buy some."
"Haha...!" The press conference ended in laughter, and many reporters nodded, indicating that they would really buy some.
...
Near Emirates Stadium, in a lively football tavern.
Football gambler Jones sat in the middle of the round table, pretending to be regretful, stroking his head and said: "I didn't get it this round, hey, I originally thought I would be close to the number of goals for last season's Golden Boot by the halfway point."
The people next to him looked at him, some rolled their eyes speechlessly, some sighed at his luck, and of course, some admired him.
Counting the days, Jones has been drinking here for a month and a half without paying for the drinks. Every time, someone brings him two glasses of ice-cold beer, saying it's their treat.
"Bang!"
Another large glass was placed in front of him. Everyone looked up and found that the tavern owner was standing next to him holding a glass.
"Stop complaining."
The tavern owner also took a glass for himself and said with a smile: "You look like this every day, as if no one knows you bought 4,000 pounds, come have a beer and go home to sleep.
"I can tell you, you have to remember the brothers' kindness to you. When you get rich, you have to treat the brothers to drinks every day."
On the side, many fans who knew for the first time that Jones had purchased a 'Maël Golden Boot bet' of such a large amount suddenly widened their eyes.
"How much will you win?!"
"Oh my god, £161,950?"
"If I remember correctly, this old boy bought it when Maël first came, right? The odds were like one to dozens back then."
"Is he really going to get rich? I'm so jealous, damn it!"
Listening to the exclamations, Jones immediately felt proud and waved his hand, "The odds were 1 to 56 at the time, and I only bought £2,300 that time, not £4,000."
"Later, when the odds dropped to 1 to 23 or 24, I went to buy again, but there were too many people buying Maël that day. By the time I got to the front of the line, his odds were only 1 to 19.5. Damn betting company."
"This time I bought £1,700, which adds up to £4,000. It wasn't £4,000 all at once."
Another burst of exclamations and self-reproach sounded. The old drunks in England rarely have any savings, and most of them don't have much money in their pockets.
When they realized that Jones was very likely to turn his life around and achieve initial financial freedom, their envy was understandable.
"£161,950!"
Someone with a calculator figured out how much money Jones would get if Maël won the Golden Boot, "Shit, that's a sky-high price! Let me calculate the tax."
"No need to calculate." Jones patted his phone and smiled, "The tax is paid by the betting company. This is the money I get."
Many people's breathing became rapid, and their hearts were filled with mixed feelings. This time, no one said anything sarcastic.
Maël has been at the top of the scorer list since the end of October, and it has been more than a month now, and he has the momentum to continue.
Although he didn't score in this round, those who watched the game knew that he was still in good form, successfully breaking through more than ten times throughout the game.
"What are the odds now?" Someone asked cautiously, reaching for his wallet.
"1 to 6.5." Someone who happened to be looking at the odds on his phone immediately answered him.
After a moment of silence, another group of people turned their attention to the lottery shop across the street, their eyes flashing with heat.
"Let's do it!"
"With Maël's current form, these odds are worth a gamble!"
"£10,000 turns into £65,000, that's like turning a broken second-hand pickup truck into a Mercedes-Benz! Let's go!"
"You're going to bet £10,000?"
"No, I don't have that much money."
"."
"Let's go! Support the young player, this isn't gambling, it's us praying to the gods that the team's young man can win the Golden Boot!"
"But only Maël himself responds to you, right?"
"Haha...!"
Many fans walked out of the pub with anticipation, heading to the betting shop across the street.
The pub owner then approached Jones and asked curiously, "Aren't you going to buy some more? You already have so much, now is a good time to increase your bet."
"Of course I'm going to buy."
Jones took out his wallet and pulled out a bank card, "For me, this really isn't gambling anymore, it's an investment in Maël. Once he succeeds, I can get a piece of the pie."
"You've probably noticed that I haven't been to the pub for the past few months except to watch the games... I've been working hard to earn money and save a lot, ready to invest it."
"Then go buy it!" The pub owner pointed anxiously at the betting shop, "What if it drops again later?"
"No, no, no."
Jones took out his phone and opened the memo, which contained countless analysis charts and various calculations, "Since it's an investment, you have to treat Maël like a stock. In the past, he was a bull stock, but today he didn't score, so he might fall a little bit."
"Even if many Arsenal fans go to buy, it won't change this downward trend. The bookmakers may think that Maël is going downhill and slowly increase the odds to attract more people to buy."
"At this time, my bottom-fishing entry will be a game-winning goal!"
The pub owner looked at Jones and said after a while, "With your ability and courage, it's really a waste for you to be doing football lottery."
"It's not over yet."
Jones continued to scroll down the chart, to Arsenal's schedule and another analysis table, "Three days later, Arsenal will play Manchester City in the League Cup. My judgment is that Maël will go all out to play.
"The players really want a championship."
"After this match, with only 3 days of rest, Arsenal will play Wigan Athletic away in the Premier League."
"I don't think they're a strong opponent. I think Maël will be a bit tired after playing Manchester City, and Wenger will let him rest in this game, or only play for half a game."
"If that's the case, his Golden Boot odds will probably rise again, and I'm going to jump in then."
"Bang!"
The tavern owner slammed his glass heavily on the table, giving a thumbs up: "You're a damn genius."
"We're gonna be rich, gonna be rich."
That evening, Maël sat with his team of four in his mansion, everyone staring at his phone screen.
The Lay's potato chips and Mengniu ad posts were about to be released, and tonight, £204,000 would fall into Maël's pocket.
"Easy money!"
Harry was the first to exclaim, his face flushed, and the other three echoed him. After Maël's value increased, making money was indeed a bit too easy.
"£204,000 after tax?"
José counted on his fingers, but couldn't figure it out after a while, and could only laugh awkwardly: "Anyway, with my weekly salary after tax, I can't earn that in a year."
His weekly salary of £4,000 wasn't low, actually higher than Maël's in his early days at Sheffield United.
"Who can?" Davis shook his head, but he was just sighing along with the others; being old, he didn't care too much about money.
As he said at the beginning, his goal was to assist Maël in winning honors.
Safina squatted next to Maël, looking like a little money grubber, "I think I can already smell the sour stench of money."
"Isn't it the fascinating smell of money?" Harry looked at her with a smile.
"£102,000!"
Maël suddenly shouted excitedly, having clicked the screen to post the Mengniu post, only needing to copy and paste, without having to worry about anything else.
This wasn't even an endorsement; it was just using his traffic to promote these people.
The other four all stared at his hand with flushed faces. Although they couldn't earn this money, they could still imagine themselves as their boss.
When Maël clicked 'send' for the second time, they shouted together, "£102,000!"
"Haha...!"
Everyone smiled together, Safina and José even clapping their hands, as if celebrating their boss's first promotional post.
"It's so refreshing."
Maël tilted his head back and closed his eyes, then got up and walked to the French window, leaving the house to go to the underground garage, while everyone looked puzzled.
When he came back in, he was carrying four gift boxes, walking in with a smile.
"Ah!"
Safina had just been immersed in Maël's joy, but now, seeing this, a joy burst out from within, "Yes!"
"Here it comes again."
Harry also immediately grinned from ear to ear; the two of them had received similar gifts from the boss before.
"What is it?" José looked at them with a confused expression, and when he turned his head, Maël had already held the gift bag in front of him.
He subconsciously took it and felt around inside, quickly finding a pair of Bulgari rings.
"Ah?!" He immediately opened his mouth wide. They were all familiar with this Naples luxury brand, which cost thousands of pounds, and even more for limited editions.
José then saw the price on the invoice, £4,799... Moreover, he also felt a heavy gift box, seemingly containing something heavy.
"The gifts are nothing."
Maël looked at their expressions and said sincerely, "I'm giving each of you a pair of rings. If you have a wife, give it to your wife; if you don't have a wife, I hope you find one soon, haha. I promised you before that I'd give you gifts for 30+ data. The main thing is that gift box."
After saying that, he walked upstairs, not disturbing everyone from opening their gift boxes.
"Wort the f*ck!"
"Two and a half stacks, 25,000 pounds!"
"Mua, I love this bonus to death! I was just thinking about buying a car to get around London!"
Safina was the first to let out a sharp cry, "Long live the boss!"
"Long live the boss!"
"May he live long! Hahaha...!"
The floor below was immediately enveloped in joy, and they all strongly felt the urge to follow the right person.
"Speaking of which."
Davis rubbed the pounds in his hand and said with a soft smile, "I have a little daughter who just started working and hasn't had a boyfriend yet."
"Then her age must be older than Maël." José said with a bright smile, counting the money as he spoke, "My daughter is young, she'll be just the right age to date in a few more years, she's perfect for Maël."
"Keep dreaming."
Safina closed the gift box and sat on the sofa in a relaxed mood, "Do you think your family is royalty? Like you can just pull out a princess."
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