Chapter 691 - 10: A Classic Scene! The Pressure Battle With No Other Choice! The Knockout Stage Official

"Ha.....Did you ever wear your father’s oversized suit when you were little? That’s how he makes me feel.

"He always feels like he has to act a certain way just because he’s wearing the armband, but does he really have that leadership and decision-making ability? He’s been making wrong choices all along.

"A 100 million Euro value can’t make everyone respect him, at least not me. I believe if he wants to win ultimately, he shouldn’t say those words and collude with Deschamps to have me leave."

"....."

"Do you have any grievances?"

"What do you think? I heard the team later recruited Real Sociedad’s midfield Griezmann, and I also heard Deschamps was facing some other pressures, such as domestic affairs.

"This is him bowing to racism, don’t you think? I’m of Algerian descent, and he’s always had views about me, just looking for an opportunity to drive me out of the team.

"Ma’el is the same; they’ve long planned it out, so they tossed that armband to me when going off the field."

"....."

"But...the France team has many black players, and I’ve heard Ma’el also....."

"No, no, no, that’s not the same thing. I don’t want to say much, but there have been disputes between the Basques and Algerians, you understand?"

"..."

June 24th, a day off.

Ma’el watched the Spain vs. England 1/4 final at a hotel, and during halftime saw the controversial comments from Benzema.

He laughed outright, prompting Isabella beside him to hurry over to see what happened, "What’s wrong?"

Ma’el handed over the phone, shook his head slightly.....Could it be that this Real Madrid forward is unwilling to accept reality, as his actions were excessive, trampling on team dignity to the point where the team no longer trusts him?

He didn’t pay it any more mind, nor bother with the other’s opinion about him. Such irritating comments are best left unthought about, lest they spoil the mood.

Isabella then frowned and complained, thinking he shouldn’t be subjected to such judgment.

Ma’el patted her head, not delving into the matter, focusing instead on the game when the broadcast resumed, studying the opponents.

Spain still held absolute advantage in this match, their passing and control leaving England’s set of stars somewhat strained, forced into exhaustive running.

In the second half, at the 55th minute, the deadlock was finally broken; the young general Alba sent a cross, and Fabregas finished with a goal.

One to zero!

After this goal, it was apparent that England was very anxious to launch a counterattack, but they still struggled to snatch the ball from Spain, leading to a mental collapse.

"Bang!"

Soon after, Gilbert took down Pedro in the box, giving away a penalty, paying dearly for his first major tournament.

Javi Alonso promptly scored, pushing the team to a 2-0 lead.

This was also the final score; when the match ended, England’s stars fell to the ground, leaving only Gilbert and a few young players standing, their gaze set in the distance.

Thus, Portugal, Germany, and Spain all entered the top four!

The final slot will be contended between their France team and Italy!

Ma’el took a deep breath, feeling immense pressure, as he went to Isabella’s side, wrapped his arm around her slender waist, and rested in her embrace.

Isabella seemed to understand his mood at the moment, holding Ma’el gently and patting the back of his head to relieve his stress.

"I’m going for a workout."

Ma’el hugged her briefly, then turned to pack up and head to the gym.

"Tomorrow’s the match, and you’re working out today?" Isabella asked with some confusion and concern, kneeling on the bed with her knees to reach Ma’el’s side, massaging his shoulders.

"Just light exercise." Ma’el smiled, reassuring her, "I feel my body is a bit off, not at its best."

"At this time, I should expend some energy and then let it recover slowly until reaching peak condition before the match."

"Alright....." Isabella didn’t quite understand, but after thinking about it, she brightly smiled, "I’ll go learn how to give massages from Safina today, and when you come back—oh, you’re heading to the team hotel now, right?"

"Hmm."

"Then tomorrow."

Isabella quickly jumped off the bed, put on her slippers, her long legs hopping back and forth, opening her arms sweetly for a hug from Ma’el, "When you return victorious, I’ll give you a massage to relieve your fatigue."

Ma’el finished packing and hugged her, smiling as he kissed her, "Alright, after you massage me, I’ll give you one."

"Haha....." Isabella pouted and kissed Ma’el, both already beyond shy in private, "I’ll wait for you, remember I said only use 95% of your strength on the field.

"Save the remaining 5% for me tonight, it’s exclusively mine."

"How can you hold back in an elimination match?"

Ma’el pinched her cheek, slung the bag over his back, and prepared to head out, "I’ll give my 100%, and save 20% out of the 120% for you."

"Oh my!"

Amid continued playful banter, the two parted once more, simultaneously looking forward to their next encounter, hoping it would be a joyful and happy reunion.

Ma’el soon arrived at the team’s base after leaving home, where he trained for a while in dipping shots and crossing, not too long before going to have a meal and adjusting everything to pre-match state.

While eating, he also glanced at the recent skill level increases across various skills.