God Of football-Chapter 457: Workings Behind The Scenes.[GT Chapter]

Saka's eyes widened, but before he could respond, Izan turned and began walking toward the road that led to the entrance.

A black car, sleek and polished, was approaching.

The hum of its engine echoed in the quiet evening as it glided toward him, its windows tinted just enough to make the driver's face unreadable.

.........

Izan finally made it home, the quiet of the evening wrapping around him like a familiar blanket.

As he entered through the door, he heard the faint sound of movement in the kitchen.

The soft clink of a dish, the rustle of something being stirred.

Olivia was there, as always, making the place feel more like home than just a house.

He moved quietly through the living room, careful not to make too much noise as he approached the kitchen from behind.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her effortlessly onto the counter with a playful grin.

She let out a soft, surprised laugh, her hands instinctively bracing herself on the edge.

"Careful, I could drop this," Olivia teased, her smile spreading.

Before she could say anything else, Izan leaned forward, pressing a brief, innocent kiss to her lips.

R𝑒ad lat𝒆st chapt𝒆rs at free𝑤ebnovel.com Only.

It was a simple moment, but to both of them, it spoke volumes—a quiet affirmation of everything unsaid.

After pulling away, he brought Olivia down from the counter and walked toward the couch, noticing Olivia's coat draped across the back.

It was a little out of place, as if she'd just left it there in a hurry.

He turned back toward her with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you go out?"

Olivia paused for a moment, wiping her hands on a dish towel before turning to face him.

"I closed early today," she said, a glint in her eye. "So like I said in the morning, I came to watch the game. I thought you would draw, but then you went ahead and did what you do best and won the game for Arsenal."

Izan let out a soft breath, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"How'd it feel? Back to the grind?"

He shrugged, his gaze distant for a moment as he leaned against the doorframe.

"A bit of a battle, but we got it done. It's always a challenge against them."

Olivia nodded, taking a step closer, as though she could feel the weight of the game still lingering on his shoulders.

"You did well."

Izan simply smiled, the words unspoken but understood.

Then, almost as if to shift the mood, he casually tossed himself down onto the couch, stretching out in a rare moment of relaxation.

"Did you enjoy the game?" he asked, his voice quieter now, the weariness of the day settling in.

Olivia perched herself beside him, her legs tucked under her.

"Every minute of it," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"But I was just waiting for the final whistle so I could see you. All that tension…" She shook her head, then grinned.

"But it was worth it."

Izan chuckled softly, reaching for the remote. "Next time, you'll have to sit closer to the action, not just watch from afar."

"Maybe," she said, a sly smile forming. "But I think I prefer the view from here."

Before Izan could do anything, Olivia fell on him, both wrapping their arms around each other as the city lights streaked in from the window, their lips against each other's being the only sounds that filled the room.

...........

Nike Headquarters – Beaverton, Oregon

The room was glass-walled and high-ceilinged, a blend of timber and tech, minimalist yet grand.

Outside, the Oregon sky was all overcast ambition — grey, brooding, full of silent plans.

Inside, Nike's top minds sat in sharp silence around a long black table, the only sound the soft hum of a looping highlight reel playing across the screen: Kylian dancing past defenders, Vinicius sprinting away from his marker and Haaland pulling away in celebration.

A click of the remote and the screen changed.

A different highlight now: Arsenal versus Tottenham. Ninety-second minute.

Corner flag. That left-footed curl, cruel and perfect, like it had been measured in atoms.

Izan Hernández, yet to be 17, yet calm in the chaos around him. Jersey off.

Name raised to the fury of the home crowd.

Nobody spoke at first.

Then Tyrell Greene leaned forward, fingers steepled, voice calm but firm.

"That," he said, "is the kid we should've already had in red and black."

He didn't have to say the name. Everyone knew.

Evelyn Tao, Global Sports Director, nodded slowly.

"Izan Hernández. Currently with Adidas. Seven-year deal. Twenty million euros. Signed right after his first call-up to international duty. Right as he was attracting the hype."

"Well," said Kieran Lowe, shifting his tablet on the table, "now the whole bloody planet knows."

A chuckle around the table. But Tyrell wasn't smiling.

"Izan's not just a talent," he said.

"He's different. You can feel it — in the way he moves, the way he even interacts with the media. He doesn't give them much but they still love him. He's got reach — Spanish, Japanese, English-speaking, global-market-ready."

"Last I heard from Henry, the kid speaks French too. He's not flashy, but everything about him flashes. He's like the modern-day Beckham without the drama and with more footballing ability, but Adidas have lowballed him."

"Well, the contract was back when he was just a name on the Valencia bench. I'm even surprised Adidas gave him that much when he wasn't even a kid from any prestigious academy," Evelyn added.

"And now?" Tyrell's brow twitched.

"Now he's the name Arsenal builds the next decade around."

There was a pause as if everyone could feel the weight of that statement settle on the table like mist.

Kieran flicked through slides: rising engagement numbers, boot sales trending upwards when Izan posted, heatmaps of fan reactions, Google Trends spikes after every goal, every dribble.

"We've monitored his growth since his debut. Since before that, really — youth tournaments in Catalonia. But now the numbers are growing faster than we are. Adidas has him. But Adidas can't hold him."

"He's sixteen," Evelyn warned.

"That means the next five years will define his entire market legacy.

Whoever partners with him during that time becomes the brand of Izan Hernández."

"Exactly," Tyrell replied.

"That's why I want a plan. Not just a pitch. Not a check and a promise. A blueprint. Timeline, activation points, brand integration, and ambassador programs. Everything."

He tapped the screen again. This time it was stills: Izan lifting the Henry Delaunay trophy after winning the Euros and another of him scoring his first goal in an Arsenal shirt.

"We will build a world around him," Tyrell said.

"Not like we did with others. Not like we tried with João. Or delayed with Foden. We center him. Give him a fresh boot line when he turns eighteen. Lock in cross-market campaigns — Japan, Spain, London. Train in Oregon. Features in the Olympics and the next World Cup launches. He becomes the thread that ties our next generation together."

"And Adidas?" someone asked from the far side of the table.

"They'll fight to keep him," Evelyn said. "They know what they've got."

"But they don't know what he's becoming," Tyrell finished.

"And they're not ready for the ask. They think a teenager doesn't outgrow twenty million in a year. But this one did."

Silence again.

Until Evelyn stood, a decision already behind her eyes.

"We need to move. Quietly, strategically. No loud tapping up. No leaks. We let the football world talk. We let him keep talking with his boots. And when the moment is right, we hand him the future. The way Adidas never could."

Tyrell nodded once. "Izan Hernández. That's our north star now."

Plans started. Pages turned. A thousand stories unfolded quietly beneath the hum of fluorescent lights — and at the center of it, a teenager with the eyes of a veteran, the poise of a prince, and a contract waiting to be broken.

A/N: Bonus chapter. Have fun reading and I'll see you in a bit with the last chapter of the day. Once again, sorry we couldn't do the mass release. My exam delayed me so I couldnt even stockpile any chapters. I am free most of the following month so i will try to get a stockpile of at least 10 chapters before May ends. Byee