God Of football-Chapter 348: New Scenery

As the echoes of the crowd’s roar still lingered in the Emirates, Izan took one last look around before stepping off the pitch.

The presentation was over, but the moment had already cemented itself in Arsenal’s history.

Fans remained in the stands, still chanting his name, reluctant to leave even as the event concluded.

Some leaned over the barriers, hoping for a final wave, a last interaction.

Izan obliged. He turned and raised a fist, and the response was immediate—another deafening cheer, a final exclamation to end the day.

Then, he disappeared down the tunnel.

As he walked through the back halls of the stadium, Arsenal staff moved efficiently around him, still riding the high of the unveiling.

Edu caught up with him, clapping him on the back. "That speech," he said with a grin, "you might have just made Arteta’s job harder."

Izan smirked but didn’t reply. He knew exactly what he had done.

In one of the private rooms, cameras were set up for post-unveiling media duties. He went through the motions—

• An exclusive club interview, talking about his decision to join.

• Photoshoots for promotional material, both in the home kit and the new training gear.

• A brief recording session for future Arsenal content, where they made him say things like, "Glad to be in the Emirates" and "See you soon, Gunners."

It was all standard procedure, but Izan handled it with ease.

Eventually, Arteta called him aside.

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"You’re free to go," the manager said. "Get some rest, settle in. We’ll see you at training soon."

As Izan finally left the Emirates, the weight of the day settled in. The unveiling had been massive, but it was just the beginning.

His car was waiting outside, the London evening settling over the city.

For the first time since landing, he had a moment to himself.

Tomorrow, he’d wake up in his new home.

But tonight— London was his to explore.

...….

The blacked-out car glided through the London streets, the city alive with energy even at this late hour.

The unveiling at the Emirates was still fresh in Izan’s mind, but now, with the stadium lights behind him, reality was starting to sink in.

He was here. London was home now.

Miranda, sitting beside him, tapped on her phone, responding to messages—probably from Arsenal staff or brand representatives already trying to line up deals.

"You’re awfully quiet," she noted, glancing at him.

Izan smirked slightly. "Taking it in."

"Good," she said, locking her phone and leaning back. "Because you won’t have much time to breathe once training starts."

The car slowed as they entered Central London, where the glow of streetlights bathed the wet pavement in gold.

It had rained earlier, and the air smelled clean and fresh.

Miranda tilted her head toward the window. "Since you just landed, figured I’d show you around a bit before you lock yourself in training mode."

Their first stop wasn’t extravagant. Just a quiet drive along the Thames, where the city reflected itself in the dark waters.

Big Ben stood tall in the distance, the London Eye slowly turning, red lights dotting its frame.

"Ever been here before?" Miranda asked.

Izan shook his head. "Only in passing," remembering one of the U19 tournaments he participated in with the Valencia youth.

"Never really explored," he added.

She grinned. "Well, don’t worry. You’ll have time—assuming Arteta doesn’t run you into the ground first."

The car carried them further through the city’s veins—past Trafalgar Square, through the neon glow of Piccadilly Circus, before finally looping toward North London.

...

Eventually, the car pulled up to a private, modern apartment complex, tucked away in an area where privacy was guaranteed.

Arsenal had arranged everything—a temporary residence until he settled.

Miranda stepped out first, stretching slightly. "Alright, your fortress awaits."

Izan followed, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he looked up at the building. It was sleek, and high-end, but unfamiliar. That would change.

Miranda handed him a key card. "You’ve got the essentials inside—food, training gear, everything you need to survive for now."

Izan raised an eyebrow. "And if I need anything else?"

She smirked. "Then welcome to London. Figure it out."

He scoffed but didn’t argue.

She took a step back toward her own car. "Take these couple of days, settle in. Because once training starts, there’s no slowing down."

Izan nodded. "Yeah."

Miranda lingered for a second, then gave a lazy salute. "Don’t get lost."

Then she was gone.

Izan watched the taillights disappear before turning back toward the building.

London was his now and it was time to own it.

...…..

The phone screen split, showing Komi, Hori, and Olivia all seated together in their home in Valencia while Izan sat on a couch.

"You’re really in London," Komi said first, her voice warm yet carrying that familiar motherly concern.

Hori leaned in closer, eyes scanning the screen. "So? Show us! What does Arsenal’s golden boy’s apartment look like?"

Izan smirked and flipped the camera. "Alright, here’s the grand tour."

He stood up, starting with the living area. "This is the living room. Nothing crazy. Just a couch, a TV, and some furniture."

"It’s neat," Olivia commented, "but kinda empty."

Izan shrugged. "It’s temporary. Arsenal’s still helping me sort out a proper place."

Komi hummed in approval. "At least they’re taking care of you."

Moving into the kitchen, he gestured at the sleek countertops and modern appliances.

"And here’s the kitchen—don’t get too excited, I’m probably not gonna use it much."

Hori laughed. "Yeah, we all knew that."

Komi shot him a disapproving look. "Izan, you need to eat properly."

"I know, I know," he said quickly, steering the camera toward the hallway. "Anyway, here’s the bedroom."

He opened the door, revealing a simple but well-furnished space.

A large bed, a wardrobe, and a floor-to-ceiling window that let in the London skyline.

"That view is nice," Olivia murmured.

Hori, however, had other concerns. "Bro… where’s all your stuff?"

"Still in my bags."

Komi sighed. "Unpack, Izan. You’ll feel more settled once you do."

He chuckled. "Alright, alright."

"Bathroom?" Olivia asked, and Izan turned the camera toward the en-suite.

"Oh wow, that shower looks fancy," Hori noted. "Try not to break it."

Izan shook his head with a smirk before flipping the camera back to himself. "So? Satisfied?"

Komi smiled. "It’s a good place. As long as you take care of yourself."

Olivia leaned forward, her green eyes soft through the screen. "How are you feeling?"

Izan hesitated just for a second, then exhaled. "Good. It’s a lot, but… I’m ready for it."

They talked a little longer—Komi reminding him to rest, Hori teasing him about getting lost in London, Olivia quietly listening—but eventually, it was time to say goodbye.

"Talk soon, yeah?" Olivia said before the call ended.

Izan stared at the screen for a moment, then leaned back into the couch.

The apartment was quiet again. But it didn’t feel empty.

It just felt like the start of something new.

...

The air was crisp, a touch cooler than the summer mornings in Valencia. London’s rhythm was different—quieter in some ways, yet always moving.

Izan’s footsteps tapped against the pavement in a steady beat, his breath controlled, his body already settling into the familiar cadence of his runs.

It wasn’t about pushing himself today. It was about feeling the city.

He took a route through the quieter parts of the neighborhood, past townhouses with their uniform brick facades, small cafés just opening up, and a few joggers and early risers making their way through the morning.

Despite the hoodie he had pulled up, people noticed him.

A man walking his dog paused mid-step, his eyes widening slightly before he gave a knowing nod.

A woman on a run of her own stole a second glance.

A pair of teenagers on bikes slowed just a bit, nudging each other, their whispers barely audible over the city sounds.

In Spain, this might have been different. Someone would’ve pulled out a phone. Someone would have shouted his name.

Here, there was curiosity—recognition—but also a sort of quiet respect. No one stopped him. No one broke the peace of the morning.

London was different.

And for the first time in a while, Izan felt like he could breathe.

His run took him down a winding path before looping back toward his apartment, the warm-up complete, his muscles loose but nowhere near fatigued. He could have kept going. He wanted to, even.

But there would be time for that later.

As he reached his apartment building, he took a deep breath, taking in the moment before stepping inside.

The door shut behind him with a soft click, the air inside still cool from the night before.

And then—

Ding.

A familiar sound.

The notification appeared in his vision.

Daily Task Completed.

Izan exhaled, stretching his arms before rolling his shoulders. A routine he had followed for years, in Spain and now in London.

A new city. A new club. A new chapter.

But some things never changed.