Six rounds into the Premier League season, Manchester City had won all six of their matches.
Six victories.
Zero defeats.
They stood alone at the top of the table, looking every bit like the strongest side in England.
Pep Guardiola's influence was becoming clearer with every passing week.
He had always been the type of manager who elevated excellent players into world-class ones. Beyond improving technique, Guardiola sharpened their understanding of space, movement, and decision-making, allowing them to reach another level.
David Silva was the perfect example.
After an inconsistent spell before Guardiola's arrival, the Spanish playmaker looked rejuvenated. As Yaya Touré's influence gradually declined with age, Silva had once again become the heartbeat of City's midfield. Alongside him, Kevin De Bruyne provided creativity, energy, and relentless attacking quality.
Manchester City were moving in only one direction.
Upwards.
Their supporters could already see the transformation, and with it came renewed belief that the Champions League was finally within reach.
Raheem Sterling was another success story.
The £50 million signing had settled quickly into Guardiola's system, becoming one of City's most dangerous attacking weapons. After several outstanding performances, much of the English media were already calling him the club's best signing of the summer.
Even Nicolás Otamendi looked like a different defender.
Under Guardiola's coaching, his positioning and composure had improved significantly, helping to stabilize City's back line.
Taken as a whole, Manchester City looked like a side with very few weaknesses.
A team that was becoming increasingly difficult to beat.
For Arsenal, that feeling was strangely familiar.
Because two years earlier, they had been the team everyone was talking about.
Now the roles had reversed.
Manchester City were surging forward, while Arsenal were trying to rebuild.
Whether judged by results, performances, or confidence, City entered this fixture looking almost untouchable.
Six consecutive league victories spoke for themselves.
Several of those wins had come against quality opposition, yet Guardiola's side had emerged victorious every time.
By comparison, Arsenal were still searching for consistency.
Their tactical structure remained a work in progress, and while there had been flashes of brilliance, they were far from their best.
Most of the British media reached the same conclusion before kickoff.
If Arsenal managed to leave the Etihad Stadium with a draw, it would already count as an excellent result.
Very few believed they could actually beat Manchester City on their own ground.
. . .
The morning of the match arrived beneath grey skies.
Light rain drifted across much of Britain, tapping steadily against windows and rooftops.
Inside Arsenal's team coach, the atmosphere was unusually quiet as they made the journey north to Manchester.
Kai sat near the back of the bus, watching raindrops race across the glass.
After almost five years in England, he had grown used to this weather.
He was used to playing in the rain.
Used to muddy shirts and soaked boots.
Used to walking outside without bothering to carry an umbrella.
Sometimes he wasn't sure whether he had adapted to the rain...
...or to London itself.
This place had become his second home.
Although he still relied on navigation in certain parts of London, North London had become second nature.
He knew the streets almost by memory.
He knew which cafés served the best coffee, which pubs Arsenal supporters gathered in after matches, and which local restaurants were always reliable when the squad went out together.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"What do you think about me buying a house in London?"
The question broke the silence.
Wilshere, who had been dozing against the window, opened one eye.
"A house?"
Kai nodded.
"Yeah."
Wilshere sat upright immediately.
"That's brilliant."
His reaction surprised Kai.
"So enthusiastic?"
Wilshere laughed.
"You've got no idea what that would mean around here."
He leaned forward.
"Have you decided where?"
Kai shook his head.
"Not yet. It's just something I've been thinking about."
For years, Kai had rented the same apartment.
To Arsenal supporters, that always carried a subtle message.
Renting meant you could pack up and leave at any moment.
Nothing tied you permanently to London.
Nothing rooted you to Arsenal.
Many supporters still secretly worried that Kai was keeping one foot out of the door.
Some even convinced themselves that the reason he had never bought a house was that he intended to leave someday.
It became such a talking point that the club had once considered solving the problem itself.
After the Highbury redevelopment, Arsenal had access to several luxury apartments.
The board had actually offered Kai one.
He turned it down without hesitation.
As Wenger had always insisted, nobody at Arsenal should receive special privileges simply because of status.
The club came first.
The apartment remained empty.
But buying his own home...
That was different.
Even if he never lived there full-time, having a place of his own in London no longer seemed like a bad idea.
Kai glanced toward Wilshere again.
"So... has Lauren moved back yet?"
Wilshere's smile faded into a helpless one.
"Not yet."
He sighed.
"But things are getting better between us."
"I think she's starting to believe me again."
Kai smiled.
"Good."
After a short pause, he teased,
"She's not actually waiting for us to win another Champions League before she comes home, is she?"
Wilshere froze.
For two full seconds, he seriously considered the possibility.
Kai burst into laughter and nudged him with his elbow.
"I'm joking."
Wilshere shook his head before laughing as well.
"You know... with Lauren, I honestly can't rule anything out."
He scratched his cheek.
"She's unbelievably stubborn."
"Ever since we separated, she's refused every penny of child support I've offered."
"Not once has she accepted it."
Kai nodded thoughtfully.
"Don't try to win her back with money."
"From what I have seen, Lauren isn't that kind of person. What she wants is stability. A warm home and a husband she can depend on."
Wilshere smiled sheepishly.
"So these days I've forgotten what pubs are like."
"No cigarettes."
"I run every morning."
"I even clean the house myself."
Kai looked at him with amusement.
"Does Lauren actually know you're doing all that?"
Wilshere blinked.
"..."
His expression immediately answered the question.
Kai sighed and laughed.
"Jack..."
"If she doesn't know, how is she supposed to see you've changed?"
"You have to let her see it."
Kai rubbed his forehead, then let out a short breath.
Wilshere blinked. "Then I'll just record something for her. Keep it your style. I'll stick with it properly this time."
As they spoke, the rain outside thickened, pressing harder against the windows.
Wilshere turned his head and frowned. "I really can't stand this weather. It's cold, heavy, and drains you before you even kick a ball. I'm hoping it clears up by tomorrow."
Kai also looked outside.
Through the blurred glass, the city lights flickered in the distance. Neon reflections broke apart in the rain, forming unstable shapes. Somewhere in that haze, a faint sign could still be made out.
Manchester City had arrived.
"Alright, lads. Head to your rooms first. We meet in the lobby in one hour."
Pat Rice clapped his hands once, firm and sharp. "Go on."
Players moved through the hotel in small groups, stepping into the elevators. Arsenal had taken nearly the entire eighth floor to keep the squad together and rested.
Voices echoed down the corridor as boots and bags rolled across the carpet.
"Is the budget tight again? This place feels rough," Wilshere muttered while unpacking. A slight chill hung in the room.
Kai did not respond straight away. He knelt by his bag, pulled out an electric blanket, and placed it carefully on the bed. He switched it on and waited for it to warm, letting it draw out the dampness in the sheets.
Cold rooms did not bother him. Damp ones did.
The blanket took care of that problem.
It had become part of his routine for away matches.
Once it was running, Kai stood up.
"I'm going for a walk around."
Wilshere looked up. "Now?"
Kai nodded and left without explaining further.
Wilshere shook his head with a faint smile. "Someone's going to get caught."
Not long after, voices started spilling into the corridor.
"Captain, come on, just one more game."
"It's quick, it won't take long."
"Captain, no, please."
Kai returned later carrying four handheld consoles and a PS3 under his arm.
He set them down neatly and exhaled once. "Problem solved."
Wilshere stared at him. "You've got a very particular way of doing things."
Kai shrugged. "If they sleep properly, they train properly."
Wilshere leaned back on his bed. "Or they'll just find new ways to annoy you."
Kai did not answer.
After a pause, Wilshere glanced at the PS3. "We could play a bit."
Kai raised an eyebrow.
Wilshere quickly lifted both hands. "Forget I said anything."
. . .
Please do leave a review and powerstones, which helps with the book's exposure.
Feel like joining a Patreon and subscribing to 30+ advanced chapters?
Visit the link:
[email protected]/GRANDMAESTA_30
Change @ to a