Chapter 139: Pressing Forward

José never really thought much about how to grow the population. That wasn't his concern, anyway. He figured that the people behind this system would have their own ways to solve the issue.

"This is fine," José thought to himself. As long as the population issue was addressed and Mallorca Island gradually became more prosperous, the club would have the foundation to rise. He was confident that within ten years, he could turn Mallorca into a top-tier team!

As for becoming a football giant? That would take more time to settle.

"Looks like these guys actually understand football pretty well. Instead of giving me some player-editing cheat, they gave me this mission system. Not bad, not bad. Right up my alley! I mean, come on—given my coaching skills and my knowledge from the future, if I still can't lead a team to success, then what good am I? I'm a textbook tactical genius!" José smirked to himself.

"The missions should be performance-based. Last season's objective was to qualify for the Champions League, so this season's goal is probably related to that as well..." Just as José was thinking this, the next season's mission appeared in his palm.

"Phase Two Mission: Achieve a strong performance in the 2001-2002 Champions League. Final rewards will depend on results. Parallel Mission: Upgrade training facilities to top level. Time limit: None. The sooner it's completed, the better the rewards."

"Oh? So now I can take on multiple missions at once?" José closed his palm, making the display disappear. "A Champions League objective? No surprises there... but this long-term mission is interesting. This is something I should be doing anyway. And getting rewarded for doing what I should be doing? Nothing better than that!"

By now, José had a pretty good idea of how this system worked. It was all pushing towards the ultimate goal—turning Mallorca into a world-class club. Every mission was a stepping stone, and the rewards were just tools to build an even stronger foundation.

With these advantages, José was fired up. He had no doubt that he could take Mallorca down a path that had taken other football giants nearly a century to walk!

That night, he slept like a baby.

The next morning, José woke up full of energy, only to receive a call from his father. The season had ended, and the club was set to hold a shareholders' meeting.

"Might as well. One less meeting every time we hold one..." José muttered.

The meeting was scheduled for the afternoon, but José arrived at the club early to strategize with his father. He had already made up his mind—he wouldn't give Grande or Pep any more benefits.

If they wanted to drag things out, so be it. Any deficits would require shareholder contributions. Any profits would go straight back into the club's development. Any transfer market spending would also come from shareholder pockets.

Let's see who could outlast whom.

Pep certainly couldn't—he was the least financially secure of the three major shareholders. Last time he had to contribute funds, it had already stretched him thin. He was almost irrelevant. Even if he sold his shares to Grande, it wouldn't affect José much.

As for Grande, his company claimed to have assets worth a billion, but assets and liquid capital were two different things. At best, he had a few million in cash—nothing compared to José, who had over a hundred million in liquidity. If this turned into a war of attrition, Grande would be the one to suffer.

But what really surprised José was the club's financial situation. He had expected a deficit this season since they no longer had Europa League revenue. Last season, the club had run a deficit of nearly ten million dollars. However, after discussing it with his father, he learned that player sales, investments in the winter transfer market, and packed home games had actually balanced the budget. In fact, the club even made a small profit—several hundred thousand dollars.

"A profit without even selling players?" José stroked his chin. And that was before factoring in Champions League revenue.

In the group stage alone, broadcasting rights would bring in 7.2 million dollars. Win bonuses, home game revenue, and local broadcasting fees would push that number close to ten million. That 7.2 million would be deposited before the new season even started, meaning it could be allocated to next season's budget.

But even this season's modest profit wasn't something José wanted Grande and Pep to enjoy.

At the shareholders' meeting that afternoon, Alemany presented the club's financial statements to Grande and Pep while José smiled and began his speech.

"Gentlemen, thanks to our players' determination and hard work, we've had a remarkable season. We've broken club records in the league and won our first domestic cup…"

Grande and Pep skimmed through the financial reports absentmindedly, barely paying attention to José's self-congratulatory remarks.

"…However, we cannot let our current success blind us. A great season only represents one year—it doesn't guarantee future success. To ensure that we continue improving, I plan to invest 700,000 dollars to renovate our training facilities, upgrade our equipment, and create a better environment for our players. Any objections?"

Grande and Pep exchanged glances. Grande took a deep breath before shaking his head.

"No objections."

He was smart enough to know that even if he had objections, they wouldn't matter. In a shareholder-driven club, the majority shareholder had the final say. Mallorca had no rules mandating yearly dividends—previous shareholders had simply favored that approach. But José could do whatever he wanted.

Pep, being the smallest shareholder, had even less say in the matter. He reluctantly shook his head as well.

"Additionally, as head coach, I must prepare for next season's Champions League campaign. With some veterans set to retire, I plan to reinforce the squad in the transfer market. The initial budget for summer transfers is 10 million dollars. This amount can be covered by next season's Champions League earnings, but for now, the shareholders will need to front the money." José kept smiling.

"As shareholders, that's our responsibility," Grande replied smoothly.

Pep hesitated but eventually nodded.

José smirked. "Pep can't keep up. He never had much wealth to begin with. Even if this is just a temporary contribution, he probably doesn't want to keep being a powerless shareholder. What's the point of holding shares if there are no dividends? Maybe we can find a way to buy out his 5% stake."

"He and Grande are close. If he sells, it'll probably be to Grande," Alemany Sr. frowned.

The meeting wrapped up quickly—at this point, it was little more than a formality. Grande and Pep had no real influence.

They had lost Asensio, a previous dominant shareholder, only to be crushed even more thoroughly by the Alemany father-son duo. Now, even if they wanted to just sit back and enjoy being minority shareholders, José wouldn't allow it. Why should he share the profits he worked so hard to generate with two people who contributed nothing?

"Pep may be close to Grande, but he's a businessman first. Businessmen don't value friendship—only profit. Grande is struggling financially. His investment firm is struggling due to the economic downturn, and most of his personal wealth is tied up in Mallorca. If he wants to buy Pep's shares, he can probably only afford 6 million dollars. A year ago, that would have been a solid price. But after our recent cash injection, that's just the market rate. If we offer slightly more, I doubt Pep will turn down the chance to make extra money," José said thoughtfully.

Alemany Sr. nodded. "That makes sense. Pep lacks the courage to cross Grande, but if our offer is better, he'll have an excuse."

"I'll handle it," Alemany Sr. declared. "If we can secure his shares, we'll control 70%. Eventually, we should push that to 75%. Once we hit that threshold, we can launch a full takeover."

"Then I'll leave it to you, Dad." José smiled gratefully.

"Don't mention it. This is my job."