Chapter 195: A New Journey

Farewells always come in a hurry, like the end of an exam scattering classmates, or a match splitting up teammates.

From the very next day, players of Dinamo Zagreb began leaving one by one.

Dujmović was the first to go—he had to report to France for further medical tests.

Next was Mandžukić, who returned home before heading to Germany.

Modrić and his family were among the first to head to Manchester for a scouting visit, as they were relocating the whole household and had a lot to prepare.

Manchester United really took care of him—even arranging jobs for his parents.

At the club, only Šuker and Srna were left behind.

Naturally, Srna moved into Mandžukić's now-vacant room.

"Those guys left so casually, didn't even bother with a farewell meal," Srna grumbled.

Šuker replied, "Farewell dinners only add to the sadness. It's fine not to have one."

That evening, the two of them sat watching the UEFA Champions League final on TV.

Liverpool versus AC Milan.

At the moment, AC Milan was leading 2–0.

"AC Milan has this in the bag," Srna said with awe. "Losing to the champions doesn't feel so bad."

But Šuker shook his head. "It's not over until it's over."

And sure enough, the wheels of fate began to turn.

In Istanbul, under similar circumstances—trailing by three goals—Liverpool went wild in the second half.

They pulled three goals back.

In extra time, the game remained tied.

And in the penalty shootout, Liverpool defeated AC Milan in a jaw-dropping comeback.

The Miracle of Istanbul was born!

On the TV, Croatian commentator Klaušević was practically trembling with emotion.

A comeback like that in the Champions League final was almost unfathomable.

And the team that collapsed was no less than AC Milan, one of Europe's greatest powerhouses.

Šuker watched the AC Milan players on screen with blank expressions—this game had crushed their spirits.

The camera focused on Maldini, head lowered, as the legendary Italian full-back walked dejectedly down the tunnel.

On this night, with this epic reversal...

AC Milan was doomed to become the laughingstock of the footballing world.

This match would be a stain on their history.

And for players like Maldini who were personally involved, the guilt was unimaginable.

The spotlight now belonged to Liverpool.

The applause and flowers were all theirs.

Liverpool were the Champions of Europe!

AC Milan had won the first half—but lost the match.

At that moment, Milan's fans in Istanbul were devastated.

They were furious.

They were heartbroken.

They had no outlet for their emotions.

They were emotionally shattered, unable even to cry.

It was heartbreak to the extreme—utterly suffocating.

On camera, AC Milan fans bowed their heads and left the stadium. Their lonely, sorrowful silhouettes stood in stark contrast to Liverpool fans celebrating with joy.

To the victor go the spoils.

Applause belongs only to the winner.

At that moment, AC Milan was nailed to the pillar of shame.

"This is truly unbelievable!" Srna was dumbstruck in front of the television.

Šuker sighed.

They had expected this might happen, but witnessing it unfold still left them with a deep sense of regret.

An entire season of praise for AC Milan, only to fall in the final—and in such a way—it was a bitter pill to swallow.

But that's football, and this is something Milan's players will have to live with.

Back in Istanbul, on the return team bus—

Everyone at AC Milan was in a daze.

They stared blankly out the windows, eyes unfocused.

The events of the second half replayed endlessly in their minds like a nightmare.

Not long after, the sounds of stifled sobbing filled the bus.

Kaká sat hunched over, resting his head on the seat in front, sobbing uncontrollably.

He was overwhelmed by grief and humiliation.

Pirlo and Gattuso, too, were unusually silent.

Maldini turned his head to look outside. His eyes were red.

More than the defeat itself, the most painful part was facing their fans.

They had played a terrible match.

The engine's roar mixed with muffled sobs, creating a suffocating atmosphere.

Coach Ancelotti looked utterly exhausted.

The second half had exposed countless problems.

When Liverpool's midfield turned up the intensity, Milan's midfield repeatedly lost possession.

The midfield was torn apart.

They couldn't support the forward line, and the defense was under relentless pressure.

Kaká was locked down.

Pirlo had no room to pass.

Shevchenko was a pure striker, and Inzaghi wasn't even in the squad.

But even if Inzaghi had played, with the midfield so broken, he wouldn't have changed anything.

What they lacked wasn't a goal-poacher.

They lacked a commander up front.

Ancelotti took a deep breath and turned to his assistant:"Notify Araujo. Have him go to Zagreb tomorrow. And book me the fastest flight to Zagreb."

"Also, tell the players to disperse immediately. Don't let them talk to the fans or media. No interviews. We'll address everything after I return!"

He exhaled deeply.

He was in a rush—he had to lock this down.

In the second half, as he looked toward his bench, he felt helpless for the first time.

And the one name that popped into his mind?

That No. 9 from Dinamo Zagreb.

The assistant nodded, but hesitated: "Shevchenko…"

Shevchenko had suffered an emotional breakdown and even made a declaration that he wanted to leave. That was another blow to Milan.

Whether or not he meant it, it was the wrong time and place to say such a thing.

Ancelotti's eyes turned cold.

"If he wants to leave, let him. Wasn't he always saying he wanted his daughter to grow up in an English-speaking environment?"

Ancelotti added coldly, "The key is getting a good price for him!"

That night, Ancelotti boarded a plane to Croatia's capital, Zagreb.

At the same time, AC Milan's sporting director Leonardo Araujo also departed.

They arrived in Zagreb around midnight. After some preliminary talks, they prepared to negotiate the final transfer the next morning.

The next day, around 9 a.m., Šuker was urgently pulled out of his dorm by Zoran and rushed to the training ground's conference room.

"Ancelotti and Dioup are here?" Šuker was stunned.

AC Milan had just gone through the 'Night of Istanbul'. Shouldn't they be doing PR damage control right now?

Why come all the way here?

"They want to finalize your transfer directly," Zorancic said.

Šuker blinked. "Shouldn't there be some negotiations first?"

Zorancic turned to him. "AC Milan just raised the offer to €33 million. That's their ceiling!"

Šuker's jaw dropped slightly.

That's a huge offer!

When Šuker and Zorancic arrived in the conference room, Ancelotti, Araujo, Besić, and a translator were already there.

Araujo stood up enthusiastically to greet them.

This was his first major transfer, and he valued Šuker highly.

Šuker sat down and looked across at Ancelotti.

Ancelotti looked utterly worn out, with visibly more gray in his hair.

Before Bessić could speak, Ancelotti went straight to the point: "Let's get down to business. Dinamo Zagreb has accepted our offer. Now—do you want to join AC Milan?"

Šuker blinked at his blunt approach.

"I…"

Ancelotti waved a hand. "I know what you're thinking. I'll give you a starting spot. You'll partner Inzaghi up front, replacing Shevchenko."

Šuker was shocked.

They were selling Shevchenko… for him?

"I'll choose the right moment for your debut so it doesn't go wrong. I won't throw you in recklessly. Right now Milan fans are on edge—we can't afford any missteps."

Šuker nodded instinctively.

A starting spot at AC Milan!

That promise was no small thing.

Ancelotti really believed in him.

"And the salary?" Zorancic asked.

Dioup responded, "We've done our best—net salary of €4.5 million per year. For reference, Kaká only makes €3.5 million. We can't offer more."

Šuker exchanged glances with Zorancic.

Both nodded slightly.

"I accept the salary," Šuker said.

"There are also bonuses for goals and assists, plus a loyalty bonus if you renew after five years. All detailed in the contract." Araujo handed it over. "This is AC Milan's sincerity."

Šuker nodded.

"Then sign it!" Ancelotti said, watching intently.

Only when Šuker signed would he finally feel at ease.

Šuker and Zorancic reviewed the contract one more time.

Ancelotti didn't rush them.

Once they confirmed everything was in order, Šuker signed his name with a few strokes.

Ancelotti stood up and extended his hand.

"Welcome to AC Milan!"

Araujo also offered his hand with a smile."Congratulations, Šuker!"

Šuker stood and shook their hands one by one.

With this contract signed, his transfer was official.

He was now an AC Milan player.

Next season, he would don the red and black stripes of Milan and battle it out in Serie A.

"I still have some matters to attend to. I'll be leaving soon," Ancelotti said."Don't forget—you must arrive in Milan by July 1st for your medical. If you need help renting a place, we have people for that."

"Oh—and start learning Italian. It's a team requirement."

In rough Italian, Šuker replied, "I'm working on it, sir!"

Ancelotti was briefly surprised, then smiled."Good."

He left his phone number with Šuker before departing with Araujo.

Šuker stood there watching their car pull away, tightly clutching the contract.

Even now, it all felt like a dream.

He was an AC Milan player.

Next season, he'd be teammates with Maldini, Inzaghi, Kaká, Pirlo, Gattuso, Nesta…

Zorancic laughed. "You've got a month left before heading to Milan. Anything else you need to prepare?"

After a brief pause, Šuker nodded. "I want to go to Bosnia."