Do check out the Auxiliary Chapter.
...
After a short vacation, Oliver's body entered flow state earlier than his mind. However, at the last moment before the new season began, Oliver still had a few hurdles to cross: three major endorsement deals that needed to be filmed while his popularity was high, for Adidas, Mercedes-Benz, and Huawei.
The Adidas shoot took place in a studio converted from a large warehouse in East London. In the studio, Oliver wore the latest coloured o7 boots, repeatedly leaping high in the wind stirred by a fan, simulating powerful shots, or performing passionate knee slides against a green screen background.
Every jump, every swing, carried an almost instinctive explosiveness, honed day after day on the pitch. The photographer excitedly shouted instructions.
"Perfect! Mr. Thorne! Last set of actions, sprint! Imagine you've just dribbled past the last defender and are facing the goalkeeper!" The director's voice came through the loudspeaker.
Oliver took a deep breath, ran up, and started. He sprinted with the ball, his center of gravity very low, his eyes sharp, fixed on the air beside the photographer in front of him. For the final shot, he unhesitatingly struck with his right foot, his body twisting with the movement, clean and powerful, full of the beauty of strength. Sweat flew off him in a shimmering arc.
"Cut! Fantastic! You were born for the camera!" The director practically yelled.
Oliver stopped, his chest heaving, and took the water and towel offered by his assistant. He gave his characteristic, slightly shy but sincere smile to the surrounding staff and said, "Thank you for your hard work, everyone. Oh, by the way, after today's shoot, I'm treating everyone to barbecue at a nearby barbecue restaurant!"
"Yes!!!"
"You're amazing, Oliver!!!"
The cheers of the staff rose and fell.
A few days later, new Adidas advertisements featuring a massive photo of Oliver would be posted in major cities around the world, with the caption: [The Throne is Built on Defeats.]
After the Adidas shoot, it was time for Mercedes-Benz. The Mercedes-Benz shooting location moved to a picturesque private estate on the outskirts of London. For the Mercedes-Benz shoot, the director asked Oliver to display an elegant, successful side.
Oliver changed into a well-tailored dark suit, with one button undone at the collar of his white shirt, losing some of the sharp youthful edge he had on the field and gaining a unique charm that was somewhere between a boy and a man. He leaned against the streamlined hood of a sports car, or strolled along the tree-lined paths of the estate; with every gesture, the confident aura honed in top-tier competitions naturally flowed out, strangely blending with the luxury car's sophisticated appeal.
When it was his turn to sit in the driver's seat for the shoot, Oliver gripped the steering wheel, his fingertips tracing the cool leather, feeling the beauty of the precise machinery. The Mercedes-Benz advertisement was also successfully completed.
Huawei's team was also quite considerate.
They considered that Oliver had just finished the World Cup and would soon be preparing for the new season, so Huawei proactively suggested completing the shoot in central London, saving him the trouble of traveling back to China. The shooting location was chosen on the banks of the Thames, with the ancient London Tower Bridge and the modern Shard building in the same frame as the background.
The golden glow of the setting sun spread across the river, and Oliver, dressed in comfortable casual clothes, held the latest model of smartphone, smiling at the camera, his eyes clear and full of approachability.
When the last set of shots of him running by the river was completed and the director called "Wrap!", Oliver felt a long-awaited sense of ease. Three major projects were finally completed.
During breaks from filming commercials, Oliver had already posted the pre-recorded Douyin entry video and TikTok updates.
In the Douyin video, Ollie greeted fans in English, not Mandarin, mind you.
"Hello everyone, I'm Oliver, an Arsenal player. I'm finally on Douyin to meet all of you! From now on, I'll frequently share my training, matches, and daily life, and I hope to interact with you all often!" He waved to the camera, his smile bright and sunny.
The short video, lasting just over ten seconds, was concise and lively.
Next was TikTok.
He quickly edited a piece of text: "New season, new journey, Arsenal No. 7 player, Oliver reporting! Football fans and Gooners, you've waited a long time! Please give me more support in the future! #PL #Oliver"
The accompanying image was a photo of him wearing Arsenal's red home jersey. The two updates were posted almost simultaneously, and likes, comments, and follows poured in like a tide.
Oliver had discussed this with Jules before. Jules originally wanted to set up an entire operations team for his son.
However, Oliver often surfed the internet; he even occasionally checked his ratings on the forums. He knew that those operations teams were completely unreliable; who knew when they might say something wrong and ruin him. So Oliver decided he would personally operate his socials.
...
Oliver's private car drove into Colney Training Centre.
As soon as the car stopped in front of the main building of the training center, Oliver pushed open the door. He saw the distinctive figure of Sports Director Raúl Sanllehi already waiting by the revolving glass door.
"Ollie! Welcome back!" Raúl's face was wreathed in smiles as he hurried forward, vigorously patted Oliver's shoulder, and then warmly gave him a hug.
"Your performance at the World Cup was astonishing! All of Arsenal is proud of you! Come, come in, Mr. Wenger and Mr. Gazidis are already waiting for you in the conference room."
Oliver was a little surprised by this reception. He had anticipated that the club would re-discuss his contract, given his status as the World Cup Golden Boot winner and Best Young Player, with countless wealthy clubs eyeing him. But he hadn't expected the top brass to be so eager, almost acting the moment he returned to London.
He nodded, putting on his sports backpack: "Okay, sir, please lead the way."
The group arrived at the top-floor conference room, and as they pushed open the heavy wooden door, Professor Wenger, Gazidis, and Jules, who had arrived early, immediately rose from their seats.
Professor Wenger still had his scholarly, refined appearance, his silver hair meticulously combed, and a joyful smile on his face. He extended his hand and said, "Welcome back, my boy. You made all of England, and the name of Arsenal, shine at the World Cup."
"It is my honor, Professor." Oliver respectfully extended his hand to shake Wenger's, then embraced him sincerely.
Then, Oliver shook hands with Gazidis, "Thank you, Mr. Gazidis."
"Sit, please sit," Gazidis gestured with a beaming smile, "It's been a tough journey. However, given your current 'market value,' we still feel that the sooner we finalize things, the better for everyone. Those sharks outside are all waiting."
Gazidis made a humorous joke.
Jules was already seated on the other side of the conference table; he had arrived early today. Jules was wearing a well-fitted dark gray suit today, his hair neatly combed; he was looking more and more like a proper agent.
Seeing his son enter and handle interactions so perfectly, he nodded slightly, his eyes conveying information only understood between father and son.
After brief pleasantries, the meeting quickly got down to business. Gazidis slid a document across, which was a copy of Oliver's previous contract with a weekly salary of 190,000 pounds.
"Mr. Thorne, Oliver," Gazidis reined in his smile, his tone becoming serious, "The club has re-evaluated Oliver's outstanding performance in the World Cup, as well as last season in Hoffenheim and the Champions League, and has seen his immense potential and value to the team. More importantly,"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Jules before landing on Oliver, "We greatly admire Oliver's loyalty and sense of belonging to Arsenal. In this restless era, this sincerity is especially precious."
Raúl immediately spoke next, his tone carrying a hint of relief: "Yes. In addition, we must also thank Oliver for his commercial influence. The addition of those new top sponsors has greatly improved the club's financial situation."
Raúl didn't name names, but everyone present knew exactly what he meant.
Oliver's skyrocketing popularity after the World Cup played a crucial role in attracting sponsors.
"Therefore, Oliver's strength and commercial value give us the ability and the determination to offer him a contract that truly matches his value."
Professor Wenger gently added: "Ollie, I still hold the same opinion. Your ideas and ambitions have left a profound impression on me. Staying at Arsenal and creating your own legend with us perfectly aligns with our plans. The club will fully support you, and I will fully support you."
Oliver nodded to Raúl, the Professor, and the others, showing his respect.
Then, Jules spoke calmly, "Thank you to the club for recognizing and valuing Oliver. As his father and agent, I believe Arsenal is the best platform for Oliver's growth at this stage. We are willing to continue our cooperation, but we also hope that the new contract can more truly reflect his market value, competitive level, and commitment to the future. After all, there are indeed many temptations outside. All right, gentlemen, let's begin."
After confirming the tone of the negotiations, both sides began. The core of the negotiation quickly focused on three numbers: weekly salary, buyout clause, and contract duration. The negotiation was underway. Time passed minute by minute. Oliver remained silent for most of the time, only occasionally nodding or shaking his head at key points.
He trusted Jules's ability and believed that Arsenal would ultimately make the right decision. The sky outside gradually darkened.
Finally, Gazidis took a deep breath, exchanged glances with Raúl in a low voice, and then looked at Wenger. Professor Wenger nodded slightly. After several hours, the new contract was finally reached.
Oliver's mind finally settled. Three main clauses of the new contract changed: weekly salary, buyout clause, and contract duration.
Thanks to Ozil's departure and the strong support from Chinese sponsors, Arsenal's finances were greatly relieved, allowing them to offer a very substantial new contract. Oliver's latest contract core terms included a weekly salary of 400,000, a buyout clause of 500 million, and a 5-year contract period. This was 50,000 pounds higher than Mohamed Salah's salary at Liverpool.
This weighty new contract was not only an affirmation of his past efforts but also a significant commitment from Arsenal, placing their future hopes on him. Witnessed by lawyers from both sides, the documents were quickly organized and printed. Oliver picked up the pen and signed his name at the end of the contract.
… …
After signing the last document, Oliver and Jules walked out of the brightly lit main building of the training center together. The cool breeze of the summer night caressed their faces. Most areas of the base had already quieted down, with only the distant training ground lights still on.
Jules let out a long sigh of relief, unbuttoned his meticulously tailored suit, loosened his tie, his face showing the ease and pride of a victorious battle.
"Good boy," he put his arm around his son's shoulder with force, his laughter hearty, "400,000 pounds a week! A few years ago, I wouldn't have dared to dream of this! You earn more in a few months than my foreign trade company does in a whole year!" He looked at his son's young yet already well-defined profile, his pride almost overflowing,
"You've made it!"
Oliver felt his father's strong arm and genuine joy, and his heart warmed. He turned his head, the soft halo of the streetlights illuminating his face, and he deliberately raised one eyebrow, revealing a mischievous smile:
"Hey… that's right… Dad, I'm really rich now. Do you remember, back when I was in Germany, I bragged to you that I'd buy you a Bugatti when I got rich…" He deliberately dragged out the end of his sentence, blinking, "Now, it seems like I can actually grit my teeth and do it? How about it, do you want one? If so, shall we order one now?"
Jules paused, then burst into laughter, his laughter particularly loud in the empty parking lot.
"Hahahahahahahahaha…"
He slapped Oliver's back hard:
"You stinky brat! Are you making fun of me? A Bugatti? That thing is a money-burning machine! What else can it do besides show off?"
He waved his hand, then his eyes darted around with a hint of cunning, "But… since you're so generous now, and you're also a Mercedes-Benz endorser…"
He deliberately paused, looking at his son. Oliver immediately understood, picking up the conversation with tacit agreement:
"Understood! You like Mercedes-Benz, right?" Oliver pulled out his phone, quickly tapped the screen a few times, and made two calls.
"Dad, I just spoke with the person in charge of my Mercedes-Benz endorsement. I've sent you the address, it's the flagship store in central London. Just go there, pick out any Maybach you like, mention my name, and you can drive it straight out."
Ollie shook his phone, a smug expression on his face, as if to say, "We've got connections."
"Damn son," Jules beamed, unceremoniously taking out his phone to jot down the address, "A Maybach is good, easy to drive and comfortable, and it's presentable for business. My son is truly considerate." He put away his phone, then suddenly looked at Oliver again, his eyes filled with a mischievous smile, teasing him.
"But speaking of which, Ollie, you're doing quite well as a Mercedes-Benz endorser, but you yourself…" He dragged out his words, scrutinizing his son from head to toe,
"If I remember correctly, you still haven't gotten your driver's license, have you? Wouldn't that be a bit of a joke to tell people? A Mercedes-Benz mascot who can't drive? Hahahahaha…"
A Mercedes-Benz mascot who can't drive. Upon hearing this, Oliver's face instantly flushed. This was indeed his current shortcoming.
Ollie stiffened his neck, trying to regain his composure in front of his father: "That's enough, alright? Who says I can't drive? I even tried driving a few times in Germany. Besides, I've been busy playing football, all my time has been spent on the field. As soon as I have a little free time this season, I'll immediately go get my driver's license, guaranteed to pass on the first try. Then I'll drive you and my mom on a trip."
"Alright, alright, then Shuwen and I will be waiting!" Jules smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out. He patted his son's shoulder again with force, that intimate and playful warmth flowing in the night.
"That's right, son, don't just focus on playing football. You also need to keep up with essential life skills. Don't let people laugh at us for only being able to use our feet and not our hands. You need to take both work and life seriously."
After the laughter and teasing, the atmosphere quieted down.
Jules looked at his son's eyes, which appeared exceptionally serious in the light, and his tone softened considerably as he asked.
"Are you hungry? Shall we go find a restaurant to eat, you and I?"
"No, Dad, I still have training tomorrow…"
Mentioning a restaurant, Oliver suddenly remembered something and immediately said.
"That's right!! Dad, I suddenly remembered about our family restaurant. Tell my mom that our family's restaurant new branch can start being prepared. It will be opened in London. Choose a good location, the best kind. If you need more money, just tell me anytime. I can help the family now."
"Also, Dad, we won't change the name, it's our family's old brand. This name has been with me since I was a child. I want this name to expand from Birmingham to London, and in the future… maybe even to more places."
Jules' smile slowly settled, transforming into a feeling of relief and emotion. He looked at his son, this child who had grown up in the back alleys of Birmingham, helping his wife in the kitchen, and scrambling in the muddy fields of the youth academy. Now, he had truly grown into a towering figure.
He reached out his hand, not to pat, but to gently place it on Oliver's shoulder, pressing down firmly, his voice somewhat choked: "YKW? What you said feels better to hear than 400,000 a week. Your mom will know, and she'll definitely be so happy she won't be able to sleep. Don't worry, your mom and I have things at home covered. You just focus on playing football well, don't let down Professor Wenger and your club's trust, and don't let yourself down."
The night was gentle, and the lights of Colney Training Centre cast long shadows behind the father and son. Oliver nodded vigorously: "I know, Dad."
The father and son bid farewell.
Watching the taillights merge into the London traffic and disappear, Oliver then turned, carrying his sports backpack, and walked briskly towards his single apartment in the player living area. Although he had just signed a sky-high contract and his card had a good amount of endorsement fees. But he didn't immediately buy a big house, instead choosing to continue living in the player apartments, because it was the closest place to the training ground.
Upon entering, he hung up his backpack, relaxed completely, and heavily threw himself onto the soft sofa. The room was quiet, with only the low hum of the central air conditioning.
Just as he closed his eyes, savoring this brief moment of tranquility, the system suddenly spoke:
[System Notification: 2018 World Cup Honor Points settlement complete.]
Oliver suddenly opened his eyes, without a trace of sleepiness, only a sharp glint flashing through them. It's here!
[Honor Gained: 2018 FIFA World Cup Golden Boot Award.]
[Points Reward: +8500.]
[Honor Gained: 2018 FIFA World Cup Best Young Player Award.]
[Points Reward: +7500.]
[Current Available Points: 72730 (original) + 8500 (Golden Boot) + 7500 (Best Young Player) + 1200 (6 World Cup match victories) = 89930.]
The cold numbers were clearly listed in his consciousness.
89930!
Almost ninety thousand!
Oliver's heart involuntarily quickened, and his blood seemed to warm slightly. That icon that had always hung at the top of the System Shop, radiating an enticing glow—[Steel Body]—reappeared in his vision. Below the icon, the number representing the price burned like a flame: [100000 points].
What was once an astronomical figure, seemingly out of reach, now only had the last 11270 points remaining. Within reach. A powerful, almost boiling surge of motivation instantly swept away all of Oliver's fatigue. He suddenly sat upright on the sofa, his hands instinctively clenching into fists; he was truly a little excited. The new season, Premier League, Champions League, those tough collisions, those high-speed sprints, those suffocating schedules!
Oliver just needed to be a little more diligent, win crucial victories, and train hard for a while longer. After acquiring this skill, from then on, he would be completely free from injury worries. That was a divine skill coveted by all professional players.
Besides this immense temptation, there were also many other gains during the World Cup. During the World Cup matches, in addition to acquiring Kane's shooting attribute, Oliver also gained Stones's confrontation skill, Vardy's shooting skill, Rashford's inside cut and shoot, Trippier's free-kick, and so on.
Oliver's Arsenal and personal attributes had been significantly enhanced. His free-kick attribute had also been upgraded to A+. The Premier League stage in the new season was where he would fully unleash this long-accumulated energy.
...
If you want to read upto Chapter 163 with daily uploads and to support me subscribe to my P*tr+-n below
p*tr+-n.com/Not_Thor
( *=a ; -=o ; +=e )
...
Also I saw some of you use IOS app for subscribing. Please don't use the IOS app as it takes away too much as platform fees. Just subscribe using the web version. That will cost less, I think.
New Bonus requirement:
Every 100 powerstone or 5 five star reviews= extra chapter 🤭🤭
Count resets every week.
...