Chapter 77 - 75: Suk! Come Back

Chapter 77: Chapter 75: Suk! Come Back

Inside a guesthouse in Mostar.

Atgeni did not leave after the match ended.

Instead, he planned to stay in Mostar for a while longer. He wanted to keep an eye on Suk and Modric’s situation and conduct further observations.

Of course, he also needed to report to his boss.

Atgeni took a shower and opened a bottle of cold beer.

Even though it was winter, downing a cold beer after a shower instantly refreshed him, washing away all his fatigue.

Wearing a bathrobe, Atgeni sat on the sofa and took out his candy bar phone to make a call.

The call connected quickly.

"Neil, it’s rare for you to call me proactively. Looks like you had a good haul!" Be?i? said with a laugh from the other end of the line.

Atgeni was never one to make calls unless he had a new and exciting discovery.

And for Atgeni, this trip to Mostar had indeed been an incredible surprise.

"I apologize for doubting your eye for talent before," Atgeni teased with a smile. "On top of discovering Modric, you can now add another new player to your books!"

"Oh?"

Be?i?’s voice carried a hint of surprise.

Modric was Be?i?’s proudest discovery among the young players he’d found over the years, and now Atgeni was clearly comparing Suk to him.

"Did he play well?"

Be?i?’s interest was piqued.

Although he had watched game tapes of Suk, many details could only be caught by watching live. This was why he’d sent Atgeni to scout him.

"Fantastic!"

Atgeni’s praise was concise. "He’s absolutely the type of player you love. He runs aggressively throughout the match, and his control of the game is on point!"

"His all-around abilities already meet Dinamo Zagreb’s standards—though not for the center-forward position, of course!"

Be?i? said, "I never intended for him to play center-forward anyway."

"He plays as a winger here. Let me tell you my impression."

Atgeni paused for a moment, then suddenly asked, "You know how Bergkamp plays, right?"

"Bergkamp?" Be?i? was surprised.

As the undisputed core of the Premier League giant Arsenal, the player known as the ’Ice Prince’, Bergkamp’s abilities were formidable even on the world stage.

"He plays like Bergkamp?"

"To be precise, he’s more like a hybrid of Bergkamp and Zidane!" Atgeni said. "That Dutch head coach wants to play Total Football, but it’s clear he doesn’t have a well-defined role for Suk. The kid has to do a lot of things all over the pitch, which wastes a lot of his stamina on unnecessary running!"

"In my opinion, his best positions are winger, attacking midfielder, or central midfielder. He’s an offensive playmaker!"

Be?i? noted, "Modric’s passing is good, too."

"Yes! But Luka is better suited for organizing and setting the tempo. In this match, Suk’s passes were much more penetrative than Luka’s. Plus, he’s fast and tracks back on defense diligently. To be honest, I don’t even know where to specifically place him, but he will definitely be a huge surprise for you."

"His passing is that good?"

Atgeni spread one hand and traced an arc in the air, exaggerating, "Have you ever seen a curling ground pass that travels 30 meters? From the left side of the pitch, through a packed defense, right to the feet of the winger on the other side. It didn’t quite connect, but that kind of passing ability and vision... if it works, it’s a superweapon that can tear an entire defense apart!"

Be?i? couldn’t quite picture it, but from Atgeni’s description, he could tell it must be an incredible skill.

"So, you think we need to sign him?"

"Absolutely!"

Atgeni fiercely chugged some of his beer.

"I damn well want to see him play at Maximilienplatz!"

Atgeni’s answer said it all.

"I understand. As soon as I get back, I’ll start the transfer process."

Trusting Atgeni’s judgment, Be?i? didn’t even ask any more questions.

"You’re not at the club?" Atgeni asked, surprised.

Be?i? replied, "That’s right. Something required me to make a trip to Germany."

"Alright. I don’t know what work is so urgent, but I wish you success."

Atgeni went back to drinking his beer.

Be?i? chuckled. "Thanks for the well wishes. You can head back to Zagreb and take a break now."

"No, no, no!" Atgeni waved his hand with a laugh. "I have no intention of going back. I’m going to watch a few more matches here. This *is* my vacation!"

...

「Munich Airport, Germany」

Be?i?, wearing a gray trench coat and sunglasses, hailed a taxi.

"Suit yourself. I have to get to work!" he said, ending the call.

After he got into the taxi, he gave the address in English:

"Glenwald Town, 22-103!"

After he gave the address, the taxi drove off.

The Glenwald District is a famous affluent neighborhood in Munich, located about seven kilometers from the city center. It’s a small town known as the ’Hollywood of Bavaria’.

Be?i?’s purpose for this trip was to visit an old friend.

When the taxi arrived at the destination, Be?i? got out.

He was surrounded by rows of townhouses. The streets were immaculately clean, and despite it being winter, a touch of green dotted the landscape, making it feel less cold overall.

Before Be?i? stood a four-story mansion, enclosed by a low, white wooden fence.

Through the fence, he could see a meticulously maintained lawn and an outdoor swimming pool.

Of course, at this time of year, no one would choose to swim here unless they had a screw loose.

There was a buzzer at the gate.

Be?i? pressed the buzzer, and a moment later, a man in a bathrobe came jogging out of the mansion.

"Hey! Be?i?! My good friend!"

The man looked to be around 35 years old with his hair slicked back. He had a chin that strikingly resembled Zhou Huajian’s.

This was none other than the Croatian superstar, Davor Suker, who had worn the red-and-white checkered jersey under the summer sun of France and won the FIFA World Cup Golden Boot with six goals.

Davor Suker, still in his bathrobe, was shivering in the cold wind. He urged Be?i?, "Come in! Quickly, come in! It’s too cold out here!"

At Davor Suker’s invitation, the two of them entered the mansion.

The interior space was enormous. The first thing they saw was a magnificent and spacious living room.

Davor Suker closed the door. The house had a wood-burning heating system, so it was very warm inside.

"Want a beer?"

Without waiting for Be?i? to reply, he ran to the fridge and pulled out two dark beers.

"Germany is famous for its dark beer. They even celebrate winning the Bundesliga with it. Although we don’t have that chance, we can at least try some." Davor Suker handed a bottle to Be?i?, then sat on the sofa. After inviting Be?i? to sit, he asked, "So, what’s the special occasion that brought you all the way here to see me?"

Be?i? and Davor Suker had been teammates back when they played for Dinamo Zagreb, and the two were good friends.

After Davor Suker moved on to play in Europe, their friendship didn’t fade; they kept in regular contact.

Be?i? didn’t have Davor Suker’s talent. His playing career was rather mediocre, and he never made it to Europe’s top leagues. However, he had a knack for coaching and had achieved considerable success with Dinamo Zagreb.

"This place isn’t very close to where Munich 1860 plays," Be?i? noted, not getting to the point just yet.

Davor Suker nodded. "Yeah, but the environment here is nice. Besides, I’m going to retire after this season."

With that, Davor Suker took a cigar from the table. "Want one? I had someone bring them over from Brazil specially."

Be?i? glanced at the cigar, then said suddenly, "Play for one more year."

Davor Suker froze for a second, then waved his hand with a smile. "Hey, man, I’m old. Since transferring to Munich 1860 in 2001, I’ve scored a grand total of three goals."

"Two seasons! Three goals!" Davor Suker shook his head. "All signs are telling me it’s time to retire. I can’t keep up with the pace of the top leagues anymore."

"Not in a top league!" Be?i? reached out, took the cigar from Davor Suker’s hand, and put it back in the box. "I’m talking about coming back to Dinamo Zagreb! Play for one year there, then retire at Maximilienplatz. I think that would be the perfect ending."

Davor Suker looked at Be?i? and said suddenly, "You want me to teach someone how to play, don’t you?"

Be?i? was slightly surprised. "How did you know?"

Davor Suker grinned. "Because you sound exactly like the Professor. You’re more honest, though. Right up until I left Arsenal, the Professor never admitted he bought me to be a mentor for Henry!"

"I’m tired of teaching people, especially a Frenchman!"

Davor Suker was still very bitter about their loss to France in the 1998 FIFA World Cup semifinals.

"It’s not a Frenchman you’d be teaching, but a Croat!" Be?i?’s tone turned serious. "You possess a wealth of experience that no one else in Croatia has. You’ve played in the top leagues, you know how to train—these are things we lack."

"In 1998, we lost to France, but we played brilliantly back then. You need to pass on that valuable experience so we don’t make the same mistakes, so we can go one step further!"

With that, Be?i? placed a file folder on the table.

"Dinamo Zagreb is in a terrible state right now. We’re even in the relegation zone. I’ll stabilize things this season, but next season will be just as difficult. The fans, especially, need something to believe in. As a Croatian hero, you are the perfect person for that!"

"Here’s a file. I believe these are the future of Dinamo Zagreb, and also the future of Croatia..."

"In 1998, we were eliminated in the semifinals, but I believe that one day, the whole world will hear the final note of our rhapsody!"

"Come back, Suker! For the sake of your own lingering regrets, and for the sake of our future!"

Be?i?’s voice was powerful and resonant, leaving Davor Suker in a long, deep silence.