Chapter 28: Modrić Wants to Change

After a day of training, Suk felt deeply satisfied.

After all, this was a team from the Premier League of Bosnia and Herzegovina—it felt completely different from playing for Velež Mostar.

Everything was much more synchronized, whether it was discipline or passing coordination.

Off-the-ball movement was frequent, and the moment Suk received the ball, he had plenty of passing options.

This significantly reduced the pressure on him to release the ball.

What Suk appreciated most that day, however, was successfully integrating into the team.

He wasn't treated like "the new guy."

Although technically still a newcomer, no one dared to bully him under Koso Pešić's protection.

Otherwise, Boame's fate today might have been Suk's.

Suk took it in stride. He considered himself lucky not to be bullied, and if it did happen—well, he'd just have to endure it.

After all, this wasn't childhood anymore; in a professional team, no one would coddle you.

Vanja Vrbić had brought Suk into the team, but that didn't mean he was responsible for helping him fit in.

This was an adult environment—how well you lived in it depended on your own ability.

Thankfully, Suk had good social skills. If he'd been more introverted, he might've ended up like Boame.

When Koso Pešić first arrived, Suk had greeted him and quickly built rapport.

That's why Pešić later stepped in to protect Suk. Otherwise, he might not have cared.

By the end of the day, Suk had a decent understanding of the team.

First, the locker room was divided into two factions.

Two vice-captains: Koso Pešić and Oliveira.

Oliveira led the local faction, close with many substitutes, as well as Boban and Biljar.

He was skilled at forming cliques and excluding outsiders.

Even bullying was a method of control for him.

Pešić, on the other hand, was more easygoing and believed in mutual support. He was surrounded mainly by Croatians.

Though Suk was Asian, he spoke Croatian and held Croatian citizenship—that alone was a good enough entry point.

Besides, Pešić wanted to use Suk to recruit Modrić.

Everyone had their motives. It was mutually beneficial.

That night, Suk turned in bed and saw Modrić writing furiously under a lamp.

"What are you doing?" Suk asked.

"Writing a letter," Modrić replied.

"To whom?"

"My teacher in Zagreb."

Suk nodded. He knew Modrić wasn't talkative.

But after a moment, Modrić put down his pen, looked at Suk, and hesitated before speaking.

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?" Suk asked, confused.

"You got along with Pešić and the others after just one day."

Suk raised an eyebrow. "It's simple—communication."

Modrić pressed his lips together. "I'm not good at that."

Suk looked at him and sighed.

At this stage, Modrić was at a low point.

Being loaned from Dinamo Zagreb to the Bosnian league was a heavy blow.

His favorite coach had been dismissed. He was caught in a political purge.

All this made his already quiet personality even more withdrawn.

Suk sat up, leaned against the wall, and said, "Getting along with people isn't that complicated. It's just 'I help you, you help me.' Over time, the relationship grows."

"When someone invites you to something, do you often feel it's a hassle and refuse?"

Modrić nodded quickly.

Pešić had invited him several times, but he always refused—it felt like too much trouble.

"There's your problem," Suk said. "You keep rejecting others' kindness. So things never move forward."

"You feel it's a hassle now only because the relationship isn't close yet."

"If I invited you, would you still feel that way?"

Modrić thought for a moment and shook his head. "No—I'd be happy."

"Exactly!" Suk clapped. "At first, it feels awkward. But after a few times, the relationship grows. Then it doesn't feel like a hassle anymore—it's something you enjoy."

"It's like football. It feels weird at first—no coordination. But after a few runs, you start to sync. Socializing works the same way."

Modrić hesitated. "Oliveira invited me too."

Suk frowned. "And what do you think of him?"

Modrić shook his head. "I don't like him."

"What about Koso Pešić?"

After a pause, Modrić said, "He's not that bad."

Suk smiled. "See? You already have your answer."

Modrić thought it over and nodded. "I think I understand."

"Take your time. No need to rush." Suk yawned. "Social anxiety doesn't disappear overnight."

"Social anxiety?"

Hiss… Suk was already fast asleep.

Modrić blinked and whispered, "He fell asleep so quickly."

He picked up his pen and continued his letter.

> "Today was a good day. My friend Suk became my teammate.

He performed well during training, and I'm proud of him.

There's a lot I can learn from him—especially how he builds relationships so fast.

Yes, that's very important in football.

Maybe... I should try communicating too."

He folded the letter and glanced at the sleeping Suk. A small smile appeared on his face.

Even though he felt alone in Bosnia, at least he had a good friend.

The next day, Pešić entered the locker room.

"Morning, boss!" Suk raised his hand lazily from the bench.

Pešić nodded, half smiling.

Just then, a quiet voice came from beside Suk.

"Good morning, Koso Pešić."

Pešić turned and saw Modrić raising his hand shyly.

As soon as their eyes met, Modrić lowered his hand and looked away.

Pešić was stunned.

It was the first time Modrić had greeted him.

"Good morning, Luka!" he laughed.

Other players began entering the room.

Pešić grinned and announced, "Luka greeted me this morning. He actually greeted me!"

Hajduković: "!!"

Mašović: "!!"

Kolpić: "!!"

All three turned in unison.

Modrić exhaled and raised his hand again. "Good morning."

The three players shouted together, "Good morning, Luka!"

Suk sat to the side, unable to hide his smile.

That day's training focused on short-range passing and coordinated pressing.

Over the past two days, Vrbić had been implementing total football tactics while helping Suk settle into the team.

Suk performed well—he cooperated actively and experimented with combination play.

Compared to others, his chemistry with Modrić stood out.

With Suk's arrival, Modrić had more freedom to push forward in attack.

Previously, Modrić stayed closer to midfield, focused on organizing. Now, he could make attacking runs.

Sometimes, when they switched positions, Suk would temporarily take over organizing duties.

With two playmakers, Zrinjski Mostar's offense flowed better and became more threatening.

Though still far from seamless, a new tactical system was starting to take shape.

If Pešić couldn't break through the defense as a target man, the team now had alternative routes.

Coach Vrbić was thrilled.

After a year of effort, his total football concept was finally forming.

But training was one thing—execution in a match was another.

That's why August 7th would be so important.

It would be the first test of Suk and the team's new tactics.

"Come to my place tonight for dinner—to celebrate Suk joining the team," Pešić said.

Suk happily agreed, and the others nodded.

Everyone turned to Modrić.

Pešić asked, "Are you coming?"

Modrić hesitated. But he remembered Suk's words—and that Suk would be there.

He nodded.

Pešić smiled.

That evening, the team packed their bags and left in small groups.

Suk noticed Oliveira and his crew driving away in a dusty old jeep.

"Pui, pui, pui!" Hajduković spat out some dirt and cursed. "Those guys are heading to Neum again."

"Neum?" Suk raised an eyebrow. The name sounded familiar.

"Are they working?"

Hajduković laughed coldly. "They're definitely working—on women's stomachs."

Suk suddenly understood.

As a port city, Neum was known not just for fish trading but for its red-light district.

Sailors gone for months always came back looking to blow off steam. Naturally, that industry grew.

"Forget them—we're not like them. No drinking tonight, just barbecue."

Suk's eyes lit up. "Barbecue? I love it!"

Hajduković threw an arm over Suk's shoulder and laughed. "Let's go, little striker. Tonight, there'll be plenty of meat!"