Julien extended his hand and clasped it firmly with Abdullah's.
Abdullah had been smiling throughout the entire conversation—he was soone who loved football.
And those who love football find it difficult not to appreciate Julien's playing style after watching him play—it was an art that perfectly fused speed, technique, and calm decision-making, a dominance capable of deciding the outco of matches.
After exchanging pleasantries and getting to know each other better, Julien understood the background of these people and confird that the Saudi side was truly following in the footsteps of Manchester City and PSG, but with a sharper objective: not rely to occupy a position, but to redefine the landscape.
"Our goal is clear: maintain the ability to compete for any championship and expand the team's influence. That's our starting point," Abdullah said without holding back, openly stating that Saudi's goal was influence.
Julien was equally direct. "I want to beco a champion, a strong contender for the Ballon d'Or."
"That's precisely why we're eting here," Abdullah's smile deepened with unquestionable certainty. "We will provide you with everything—everything you want."
The two exchanged smiles again, both understanding they had reached a consensus.
The progress was faster than Julien had imagined.
Abdullah continued, "I can tell you very clearly—as the first superstar we're signing in our strategic plan, we're willing to offer you a contract that absolutely cannot be matched."
He paused briefly to let the weight of his words sink in, then explained, "This ans not only top Premier League salary structure, but also extrely attractive various bonuses, and endorsent collaboration resources with top international brands. But that's far from enough.
We will mobilize all dia and comrcial channels, sparing no effort to build montum for you. Our goal is clear: not only to help you win championships, but to push you to beco the youngest Ballon d'Or winner in history. This isn't an empty promise—it's the core strategy of our entire project."
Abdullah didn't see the shock he'd imagined; he only saw Julien's calm deep eyes.
Julien nodded slightly, as if agreeing with his words.
Abdullah smiled. "And all we need are championships, one after another, more fans, greater influence."
Abdullah gestured to soone behind him.
His assistant brought forward small docunt folders to Julien and Pierre.
Only the four of them were present at this eting.
Everyone else waited outside the private room.
Julien glanced at the key terms—they matched what Abdullah had said. The Saudi side had fully demonstrated their sincerity.
Now it was his turn.
After handing the docunts to Pierre for review, Julien looked at Abdullah. "These terms are completely fine with ."
He paused briefly, his tone composed yet cutting to the point, "But a true elite club isn't built rely by stacking players and money. We need the most professional people to construct the system."
He leaned forward slightly and continued, "I suggest the team needs soone who truly understands football and the Premier League—soone like David Dein. His capability, connections, and understanding of English football are key to the project's success."
Julien then continued discussing the acquisition. "As for acquisition targets, we don't need to wait endlessly for Arsenal. If they continue to stall and refuse to budge, I suggest we pursue three tracks simultaneously."
He clearly listed the alternatives: "Newcastle—it has strong fan base but long hampered by insufficient managent investnt; Liverpool's a traditional powerhouse, but has been dormant, facing a critical period of revival after ownership change; Aston Villa also with deep heritage and potential, but also needing heavy capital injection to restart their ambitions.
All three clubs currently have their own windows of opportunity."
Julien concluded decisively, "Whoever accepts the acquisition first, we prioritize them. Speed and determination matter more than fixating on a single target."
After hearing Julien's suggestions, Abdullah lightly tapped his fingers on the table, pondering. "Newcastle, Liverpool, Villa—these are all clubs with heritage, but frankly speaking, in terms of global influence and comrcial value, none seem comparable to Arsenal."
A hint of doubt flashed in his eyes. "We're aiming to build a world-class brand."
Hearing this, Julien's lips curved into a confident smile. He leaned forward; his gaze intense as he responded. "Influence? Mr. Abdullah, you're right—Arsenal does have broader global recognition, but rember this: championships are the best brand ambassadors, trophies are heritage. When was Arsenal's last championship?"
His voice was firm and persuasive, "Where does the global influence of Manchester United, Real Madrid, and Barcelona co from?
It cos from the glory of Champions League trophies, from the honor of league titles!
As long as we can quickly build a championship team and continuously win trophies, regardless of the club's original standing, we will redefine its value. On this level, Arsenal is no different from the other clubs."
"Moreover," Julien continued, his eyes gleaming, "these clubs all have solid fan bases and deep football traditions. They're like sleeping giants, and you possess exactly the resources needed to awaken them. By then, we won't be writing soone else's history—we'll be writing a legend that belongs entirely to us."
This was also Julien's purpose.
Rather than adding flowers to brocade, he preferred turning the tide against adversity.
After hearing this argunt, Abdullah's slightly furrowed brow gradually smoothed, ultimately transforming into a knowing and approving smile.
"Visionary, Julien. You're very visionary. You're right—championships can indeed make up for everything."
When the four erged from the private room, they were in high spirits.
Both Julien and Abdullah's eyes held desire for the future.
Just as Julien had thought, their goals were aligned.
Both wanted to win!
Wanted championships!
With aligned goals as foundation, this was a mutual commitnt.
Before parting, Abdullah grasped Julien's hand, saying like a promise, "When the European sumr transfer window opens, we'll complete the acquisition as quickly as possible. I hope that announced simultaneously with the acquisition news will be news of you joining."
After seeing off the Saudi delegation, Pierre was overwheld with inner excitent. He didn't know how to describe his current feelings.
Over £300,000 per week!
Per week!
Julien's weekly salary was money many people couldn't earn in ten years.
Especially Pierre, who had climbed from the bottom of society step by step to his current position—he had a deeper understanding of the hardships involved.
In his youth, in a marginal small town like Oissel, he had struggled to move his family into Paris.
And now, Julien had elevated the entire family to another level.
Of course, Pierre was very clear that Julien's money wasn't their money—he understood that distinction.
But Julien was willing to provide opportunities for family mbers.
For example, Pierre becoming an agent, René managing the website.
There would also be a family fund, and Julien's other siblings could participate in more operations.
Julien had clearly beco the family's core.
However, when Pierre looked at Julien amid his excitent, he discovered that Julien wasn't as thrilled. He was thinking.
Pierre didn't disturb him.
He drove toward the Bastia training base.
Outside the car window, the diterranean was crushing the sunset into countless golden scales, the waves dancing joyfully.
But in Julien's eyes lay a calm as unfathomable as the deep seawater itself.
Ti passed in waiting.
Just before Bastia's ho match against Marseille, English football welcod another bombshell!
Sky Sports reported—
[English Football's Acquisition Landscape Changed Overnight!
According to our exclusive report, the Saudi Arabian Public Investnt Fund (PIF) and British property magnates, the Reuben Brothers, who had been attempting to acquire Arsenal, have decisively adjusted their strategy after negotiations with Gunners majority shareholder Kroenke progressed slowly and reached an impasse. They have simultaneously targeted three other traditional Premier League clubs—Newcastle United, Liverpool, and Aston Villa!
Sources reveal that this financially formidable acquisition consortium has simultaneously sent strong signals to all three parties, with a strategy simple, direct, and extrely aggressive: "Whoever accepts the offer first, we'll buy."
PIF has reportedly lost patience with prolonged negotiations, their ultimate goal always being to create in the Premier League a new football empire capable of rivaling Manchester City's Abu Dhabi consortium.
This multi-pronged attack demonstrates both their determination to succeed and applies enormous pressure on Arsenal.]
In response, various opinions ran rampant.
"Another 'oil state club'? The Premier League is completely becoming oligarchs' plaything—competitive fairness is gone."
"Co quickly! I am tired of stingy owners and managent without ambition! We need investnt to return to glory!"
"Just nouveau riche. They have money but don't understand our traditions. Though we do need to worry about them disrupting the transfer market."
"The capital wave is unstoppable. This will only make the Premier League more suspenseful, competition more brutal, comrcial value reaching new heights."
But none of this could stop Saudi determination.
London.
At ho, David Dein felt complicated after seeing these related newspapers and comnts.
He actually most hoped Saudi would acquire Arsenal—that was the club where he'd invested half his life's effort, which he regarded as his own child.
It was he who had brought in Stan Kroenke back then.
A decision that now seed perhaps the greatest strategic mistake of his life, ultimately leaving the club in its current seemingly stable yet lacking championship ambition stagnant state.
However, an even stronger force pulled at him—the ambition and aspirations of a top football manager.
The new project's blueprint was breathtakingly grand: unlimited financial resources, the opportunity to rebuild a powerhouse, and most crucially—Julien De Rocca, that genius he deeply admired, had personally promised to join the new team.
It was like all the puzzle pieces of a dream project were in place, just waiting for him to reach out and grasp them.
His thoughts even flew to Arsène Wenger.
He could almost imagine what greatness they might create if he reunited with his old friend on this new platform.
But that thought only flashed briefly before he extinguished it with a bitter smile.
He knew Wenger too well—that stubborn old French friend had long since fused his soul with Arsenal. He would never abandon the Gunners at this ti to join another team.
After all, even Real Madrid under Florentino Pérez after 2009 couldn't persuade Wenger—he had no confidence he could.
Finally, his gaze returned to the newspaper, the complex emotions in his eyes were gradually replaced by calm and determination.
Perhaps building a new legend was the best way to make ands for the past.
After briefly settling things with Saudi, Julien stopped concerning himself with transfer matters.
He just needed to wait patiently.
And now, what he needed to do was claim the last two trophies of the season!
May 3rd.
Marseille challenged Bastia away.
This season, Marseille had no hope of competing for Champions League qualification. They had completely fallen behind in competition with Bastia and Paris.
And this ti, Marseille's entire team ca to Bastia, where they would directly face the most scorching football flas of this diterranean island!
Nine o'clock at night.
The comntator's passionate voice rang out in the broadcast, against the background of deafening opening songs and cheers at Stade Armand Cesari.
"Good evening, viewers! Welco to Bastia's ho ground, Stade Armand Cesari!
We're about to bring you a focus match from Ligue 1's 35th round—league leaders Bastia host traditional powerhouse Marseille.
Marseille's form has fluctuated this season, their dream of competing for Champions League qualification already shattered, but they're by no ans opponents to be taken lightly.
The ho team Bastia is just one step away from their first-ever Ligue 1 championship trophy. Every inch of air in this stadium burns with extre desire for victory!
We can fully expect a match... Wait! The match just started! What's happening?!"
The comntator's tone suddenly surged, his speech accelerating. "After kickoff, Bastia's first attack, De Bruyne has the ball, observing—direct long pass!
This cross-field ball shows such broad vision!
He's finding the front right, Julien is sprinting forward at high speed, using absolute speed to blow past the defender!
Julien cuts into the box!
Marseille left-back Morel is marking him, but he can't keep up with Julien.
Julien creates space!
He's past him!
Morel is forced to tackle, Julien goes down—"
The comntator was astonished by Bastia's attacking speed, but Stade Armand Cesari was accustod to this.
Seeing this mont, they all shouted—
"Penalty!"
"Penalty!!"
Whistle!
The ball itself wasn't controversial. The referee saw clearly—Morel completely couldn't keep up with Julien's pace, a pure foul.
He pointed to the penalty spot.
One minute into the match, Bastia earned a penalty.
The venue erupted!
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