After Paris Saint-Germain was removed from the list, I led England to victory!

Arsenal lost; they lost the Europa League.

After the Europa League match, in the passageway of London Heathrow Airport, the cold white lights shone on Wenger's tired face.

Arsenal have just been eliminated from the Europa League, and another of the Gunners' hopes have been dashed.

Arsenal players dragged their suitcases, their steps heavy.

Wenger walked in the middle of the group, his thin face expressionless under the lights, his eyes behind his glasses calmly staring into the empty space ahead.

Before the chill outside could even touch my skin, a wave of sound swept back in.

Reporters and fans, who were well-prepared, crowded there, their cameras and microphones and their boiling emotions crowding the small exit space.

A barrage of questions and shouts came crashing down on us:

"Is this what you wanted, Wenger?" A hoarse voice, laced with undisguised sarcasm.

A sharp response immediately came from another direction:

"Professor? Look at the garbage you've brought! They can't even play in the Europa League!"

Someone in the crowd shouted:

"Refund! Give us our season tickets back, and Wenger, get out!!"

"Professor, those people..." Teaching assistant Pat frowned and quickly advised Wenger beside him not to pay attention to these words.

Wenger seemed not to hear anything.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the excited faces, without anger or explanation.

He simply straightened his back slightly, his face, already etched with the marks of time, remaining completely still.

He maintained his pace, leading the team steadily toward the team bus parked in the distance.

In the distance, a huge white banner was conspicuously unfurled above the crowd, with large letters painted on it in striking scarlet spray paint:

"KICK OUT WENGER! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!" The red color looked particularly ferocious under the stark white light.

Some fans' insults were extremely sharp:

"STOP STEALING MY CLUB!"

Wenger's gaze lingered on the slogan for a brief moment.

Does Wenger really not care about these things?

No, he actually cares a lot. He cares about everything at Arsenal more than anyone else at the club.

But reason told him that now was not the time to care about the fans' opinions; he had more important things to do.

……

Upon returning to the Colney training ground, the first thing Wenger did was give a speech.

In the tactical meeting room, Wenger clapped his hands, his voice not loud, but it drew everyone's attention.

"Alright, gentlemen, that's all," Wenger's voice carried a profound calm born of exhaustion.

"Our Europa League campaign is finally over. Now we can focus on the league." His gaze was steady and powerful, sweeping over everyone's eyes.

"A top-four finish in the league is the key to the future. There are no more cup competitions to distract us. From this moment on, every bit of energy and every drop of sweat will be poured into this."

Remember, only by giving it our all will the future have an impact. Starting tomorrow's training session, completely forget about this damn Europa League match.

In the days that followed, the lights at the Kearney training ground were always on before dawn.

All training programs are precisely designed around the competitive nature and rotation of the Premier League.

Arsenal have made their decision and are determined to stick to it.

Arsenal's next two league opponents are Nottingham Forest and Manchester City.

Arsenal displayed a completely different spirit when facing Forest at the Emirates Stadium.

Every red figure charged forward with a desperate, all-or-nothing spirit, and every interception roared with a willingness to pay any price.

The Forest team tried to resist, but they felt like they had hit a high wall that was constantly squeezing them.

The gunman's reckless attitude threw his less experienced opponent into disarray early on.

This became the highlight of Pleasant Goat's performance.

For the first goal, Arsenal patiently penetrated and stretched the opponent's defense, then delivered a clean and precise cutback pass to Aubameyang, who calmly adjusted his position and easily slotted the ball into the net.

The second goal came in a flash. The opening created by Arsenal's fast winger was barely visible when Aubameyang pounced forward like a ghost, arriving with the ball and calmly slotting it into the net.

2-0, a victory that was controlled from start to finish.

Arsenal's name jumped one place on the league table.

The next match will be an even greater test, at the Etihad Stadium in Manchester.

This was an away game with immense pressure from the very first whistle.

Arsenal players embodied the spirit of "fighting with everything" in every move, relentlessly pressing and compressing every inch of space, their physical confrontations so intense they almost crossed the line into foul trouble.

Faced with the home team's delicate passing and control, Arsenal responded with tireless running and fierce interceptions.

Every time the ball is lost, the immediate counter-pressing by two or three players becomes almost a muscle memory.

The pace of the offensive and defensive transitions between the two sides was breathtaking, with the numbers on the scoreboard rising alternately.

Arsenal's tenacious defense also managed to keep the score at a close.

In the final minutes, the situation spiraled out of control.

All Arsenal's players had their eyes on the bouncing ball; all their intentions boiled down to the simplest and most direct objective:

To prevent that damn ball from getting into their own goal.

Heading, blocking, shoving...

Every movement mobilizes the energy at the deepest level of the body's muscle fibers, squeezing out the last bit of strength.

The ball was cleared from the Arsenal penalty area with great effort and landed on the edge of the center circle.

Manchester City center-back Stones strode forward, attempting to firmly control the ball and stabilize the rhythm of the team's final wave of attacks.

He aimed for the ball's trajectory, braced himself firmly with his left foot, and raised his right leg high, ready to unleash his power and send the ball back deep into Arsenal's half.

At the very moment when his leg muscles tensed to the maximum and exerted force.

A terrifying sensation suddenly exploded along the back of Stones' thigh muscles!

The excruciating pain felt like a cold, iron clamp suddenly tightening and tearing!

Without any external impact, the muscle fibers reached their limit under the explosive force of their own power.

In that instant, the balance between support and exertion was broken, and immense pain suddenly surged to his throat; he didn't even have time to utter a complete cry of pain.

"hiss…"

The audience could almost hear the faint sound of the ball rolling away, and then everything slowed down.

Stones' expression went from focused concentration to complete blankness in the blink of an eye.

His right leg was dangling in the air, and the raised position froze awkwardly, his body coordination collapsing instantly.

The supporting left leg seemed unable to bear the weight of the body any longer, and suddenly went limp, causing the burly body to fall uncontrollably to the left.

He fell to the ground, curled up violently, hugged the back of his right thigh with both hands, buried his face in the wet grass, and arched his body in pain.

The Manchester City coaching area on the sidelines froze instantly.

Just a moment ago, Guardiola was frowning and leaning forward, watching the chaos in the penalty area.

The next second, he almost instinctively rushed forward two steps, his feet planted firmly on the edge of the sideline, his eyes fixed on his beloved player who was curled up in a ball outside the penalty area.

Guardiola saw the team doctor sprinting onto the field, and Stones' shoulder convulsing violently in pain, buried in the grass.

A chilling sensation instantly rose from Guardiola's feet to his bald head.

He subconsciously raised his hand and covered his forehead and eyes, a gesture that resembled a silent prayer.

The final score was 2-2, and for Guardiola, whose face was ashen at that moment, he no longer cared about the result.

He cared more about his beloved player who was being carried off the field on a stretcher.

With this crucial match ended in a draw, Arsenal are now firmly in fifth place, just four points behind fourth-placed Tottenham.

The path to the top four is clearer and brighter than ever before in Wenger's eyes.

But for Pep Guardiola, a huge problem has emerged.

Inside the Manchester City medical room, the door creaked open, and a stronger smell of disinfectant mixed with muscle ointment wafted out.

Guardiola walked in, his steps not as light as usual, but rather somewhat heavy.

Stones lay on the treatment bed, his right leg wrapped in a white bandage used for emergency compression, which was particularly noticeable from the back of his thigh to near his knee.

His face was ashen, as if he had been through a painful ordeal. Beneath his tightly furrowed brows, his eyes were unfocused, staring at a corner of the ceiling, or perhaps he wasn't looking at anything at all.

Seeing his mentor enter, Stones struggled to sit up, a complex expression on his face.

His expression was a mixture of suppressed pain, guilt for being unable to complete the mission, and bewilderment.

"Don't move, John, you absolutely mustn't move," Guardiola immediately called out, his voice soft and gentle.

He strode to the bedside, pulled up a chair, and sat down. His gaze fell on the bandages, and his brow furrowed even more deeply.

"How is John...?"

Manchester City's chief team doctor, Jim, a gray-haired man in a blue medical coat, had a very serious expression.

"The preliminary scan results have just come in, Pep."

He held up a film showing a black and white image to the light, pointing to one area.

"Here, John's hamstring muscles are confirmed to have a moderate tear."

He put down the film, his tone flat and cold.

"It's quite serious. John's injury has a large area of ​​tear, and the muscle fibers are clearly broken."

He paused, then continued:

"This means he needs immediate and full rest, and the next few weeks are a dangerous period when his muscle fibers are most vulnerable and most prone to repeated tearing."

Rehabilitation training requires extremely careful intervention, proceeding step by step to rebuild muscle connections, restore strength, and then restore functional movements.

Even with the most optimistic estimate, a full recovery will take at least five weeks.

Five weeks!

This timing hit Guardiola hard.

In a week, they will face Hoffenheim again, and after that, they will be surrounded by formidable opponents in the Champions League…

His window of opportunity to play as a reliable and dependable defender was abruptly cut short by this diagnosis.

Guardiola was silent for a few seconds, his Adam's apple bobbing, before he looked up at Stones.

"John..." Guardiola began, his voice hoarse.

"Boss," Stones spoke first, his voice weak from injury, but more so filled with urgency.

"Next game... I can... I can play..." His fingers unconsciously gripped the sheets tightly.

Before he could finish speaking, Guardiola reached out and gently pressed Stones' left shoulder.

He stared into Stones's eyes, which were filled with longing and resentment, and spoke each word with exceptional clarity:

"Listen, John, forget about the game. Your only job right now is to get this leg healed and come back fully recovered."

Guardiola smiled at Stones, though it wasn't a pleasant smile, and continued speaking to him.

"John, don't worry, Ederson, Vincent, Kevin, Aguero, and the others... we'll handle the rest of the games. That's my job, trust me, okay?"

He tightened his grip on Stones' shoulder, as if conveying a resolute signal.

"Please trust us, okay, John?" he asked again.

During the eye contact with his mentor, the light in Stones' eyes gradually dimmed, as if he had finally been completely crushed by the heavy reality.

His throat bobbed violently a few times, and he uttered a single word with difficulty in an almost inaudible voice:

"……good."

Manchester City's key defender's proud head finally drooped, resting against the headboard.

Silence fell over the medical room once again.

Guardiola stood up without saying anything more, but took one last deep look at his beloved player, who was wrapped in bandages and looked dejected, before silently turning away.

Jim followed Guardiola and gently closed the door to the medical room, leaving the treatment space to Stones.

The two walked and talked in the corridor.

"Pep," Jim said in a low voice.

"You need to understand that the risk of recurrence during the recovery process of a moderate tear is extremely high. Given John's personality... you have to suppress any thought he might have about returning to play prematurely, otherwise..."

Jim didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood what he meant.

"I know," Guardiola said in a low voice, his throat tight.

Stones' absence is far more than just losing a defensive wall.

He is the "pivot" of Manchester City's backfield passing.

Stones has the ability to find passing lanes through gaps in the opponent's pressing and accurately distribute the ball to the feet of the forwards.

In Manchester City's attacking rhythm, the smoothness of his link often determines the fluidity of the passing and the speed of the advance.

Now, this crucial axis has broken.

Guardiola must rethink his tactics.

Who can calmly and accurately pass the ball out from under heavy pressure?

Who will fill the huge black hole left behind by the sudden disappearance of this precision strike capability?

The match against Hoffenheim was a crucial test before the Champions League knockout stage. It was originally intended to further refine the team's cohesion and test the stability of the defensive pairing, but now they have to use a hastily put-together defense to take the test.

Guardiola took a deep breath and finally started again.

"Jim, I'm going to give you two tasks now."

First, keep an eye on John. We must ensure he follows the safest and lowest-risk rehabilitation plan. Absolutely no unnecessary changes, not even the slightest. And also…

He turned around, the sharp light in his eyes returning to its original intensity.

"Second, give me a detailed report on every foreseeable stage of John's recovery throughout his injury, from his current rest to his eventual return to fitness, strength, explosiveness, and on-court adaptability."

Precisely down to the projects that might recover each day and the percentage that might be achieved.

Guardiola's voice was firm and resolute.

"I need to know at what window of opportunity I might reactivate this card in the coming weeks or even months, no matter how bad things get."

"Understood, Pep." Jim nodded immediately, his expression equally serious.

After their conversation, they parted ways, each carrying their own heavy tasks as they plunged into the night, which seemed exceptionally long due to an unexpected event.