Chapter 215: This Is Not a Story of Inspiration

"The match is over, and AC Milan has practically crushed their opponents to claim a dominant victory!"

"In this match, AC Milan controlled 73% of possession, had a total of 21 shots, 15 of which were on target, and scored four goals!"

"Out of those 21 shots, Suker alone contributed 5 long-range attempts (wild shots)!"

"The most miserable figure on the pitch today was undoubtedly Fenerbahçe's goalkeeper!"

"Still, congratulations to AC Milan for an easy win in the first round of the Champions League group stage!"

Applause thundered throughout the San Siro Stadium.

The match wasn't just a victory; it was also highly entertaining to watch.

Of course, the most unforgettable figure from the match was undeniably Suk.

"Suker, you played amazingly!"

"Suker, we're coming to your next match too!"

"Go Suker! I'm already wearing your jersey!"

"That was beautiful!"

Suker stood in front of the stands, clapping with a wide grin.

He was quite satisfied with his performance.

Even though he didn't score, his overall play was excellent.

Moreover, he had executed the tasks assigned by Ancelotti to perfection.

After bidding the fans farewell, Suker headed toward the players' tunnel.

He noticed the chubby little ball boy standing inside the tunnel.

Suker raised an eyebrow.

"Did you cheer for me?"

The chubby boy nodded enthusiastically.

Suker patted his head.

"Wait here."

With that, Suker walked off. When he returned, he was holding Kaká's jersey.

"Here! This is your reward!"

The little boy took the jersey gleefully but then looked expectantly at Suker's own shirt.

Suker blinked, glanced down, and chuckled.

"Wow! You greedy little brat, one's not enough?"

The boy blushed bright red and turned away, mumbling, "Forget it then!"

Suddenly, something damp landed on his head.

He quickly took it off and found it was Suker's jersey.

By the time he looked up again, Suker had already disappeared.

Outside the San Siro Stadium—

The chubby boy, Justin, handed Kaká's jersey to the girl.

The girl clapped excitedly.

"Wow!! Justin, you're the best!"

She reached out again and batted her pretty eyes.

"And the other one?"

Justin's eyes darted around. "Suker wouldn't give it to me!"

"Really? What a pity."

"Our date?"

"After school tomorrow!"

The girl waved with a smile and ran off.

Inside AC Milan's Locker Room—

The atmosphere was filled with celebration.

The team had convincingly won their opening Champions League match with a commanding performance.

Their play was well-balanced, with no weaknesses.

Fenerbahçe may be a powerhouse in the Turkish league, but when facing a top European team—possibly the strongest club in Europe—it wasn't surprising they lost.

"Suker, come with me," said Ancelotti, motioning.

Suker immediately followed.

"We're going to the post-match press conference."

Being invited to join the coach for the press conference meant Ancelotti approved of Suk's performance and intended to promote him to the media.

At the Post-Match Press Conference—

When Ancelotti and Suker entered the press room, they were met with cheers.

Most of the applause came from Milan and Italian journalists.

They were thrilled that such a talented young player had chosen Serie A—and AC Milan.

"Hello everyone, I'm Suker," he greeted out of habit.

He really didn't need to introduce himself anymore—everyone knew who he was.

Ancelotti said, "This victory came from great teamwork. It's an inspiring win. Milan's Champions League journey begins again. We've known pain, but we won't let it defeat us!"

Reporter: "If you face Liverpool again, can Milan take revenge?"

Ancelotti nodded firmly. "Absolutely."

Thanks to recent wins in both the league and Champions League, Milan had regained confidence and were finally starting to shake off the 'Istanbul Syndrome.'

Soon, the focus shifted to Suker.

Most questions revolved around his performance.

Suker smiled and said, "I'm quite satisfied, though there's still room for improvement. As a player, I need to keep working hard. Milan is a great club. I came here not only to learn but also to help push toward greater goals."

His humble attitude earned approving nods from the reporters.

Also, his Italian seemed to have improved considerably.

Reporter: "Before the match, Boban shared many stories about your past—your time in Bosnia and some difficult times. Would you say that hardship is the secret to your success?"

The world loves inspirational stories—and Suker fit that narrative.

A boy who walked out of a war-torn land.

A childhood of hunger and humiliation.

Everyone wanted to hear his reflections.

Suker looked at the expectant faces and exhaled slowly.

"I know what you want to hear—you want an inspirational story to boost your coverage, but… my answer is 'no.'"

With a serious expression, Suker continued:"Hardship and suffering are not things to be glorified."

"I'm not noble enough to thank the pain I've endured. Those were things I had no choice but to go through. If I had the option, I'd have preferred a happy childhood, with my parents by my side every day."

"Suffering builds character only because it's unavoidable."

"But it should never be used as some inspiring tale to deceive people still enduring it."

"I've never thanked the suffering in my past. My achievements in football aren't because of that pain. It's simply because I love football, deeply. That's all."

Suker knew exactly what the media wanted from him.

But on this, he would not compromise.

They could praise his football.

They could admire his performance.

But they could not link his success to his painful past.

Suker didn't say what the media wanted to hear.

So the media collectively ignored it. None of his comments on this subject were reported.

When something goes against their values, they choose silence.

It's despicable—but also a sad reality.

The Next Day – Milan, Sunny Skies

"Wake up! Wake up!"

Early in the morning, Suker dragged Kaká out of bed.

"But it's a day off! I just want to sleep!" Kaká grumbled, clinging to his blanket.

"Sleep? Life's too short! Let's go explore Milan!" Suker beamed.

"I've never really looked around the city."

Kaká yawned. "There's nothing to see in Milan."

"That's because you've already seen it all. I haven't!"

Suker pulled Kaká out of bed.

Kaká reluctantly got up and headed for the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, the handsome Kaká reappeared.

He made himself a coffee and asked, "Want one?"

Suker: "Make mine iced!"

With a sip of iced coffee, Suker felt instantly refreshed.

"I checked the guide last night. First, we'll go to the Milan Cathedral, then the Sforza Castle."

Kaká chuckled. "Trust me—you don't want to go there."

"Why not?" Suker asked.

"If we show up at tourist spots, fans will swarm us. And if we run into Inter fans… we might even get beat up."

Suker blinked. "Then we'll disguise ourselves."

He headed straight into Kaká's closet.

Kaká frowned. He really didn't like people who had no sense of boundaries.

But, well… that's just how people are in Milan.

Eventually, the two of them left the house wearing baseball caps and sunglasses.

Kaká had that soft-boy style.

Brown straight-cut pants with canvas shoes, a crisp white long-sleeve shirt, and a creamy knit vest. Give him glasses, and he could pass as a college student.

Suker was dressed more casually.

Loose black shorts and an oversized white T-shirt, with a bucket hat and sunglasses.

Once in the car, Suker buckled up and shouted, "Let's go!"

Kaká smiled and started the engine, merging into the main road.

The weather in Milan was perfect. Suker rolled down the window, taking in the scenery.

Most of Milan's architecture is Romanesque.

Lots of columns, neatly lined.

They first visited the Milan Cathedral. Awed by its grandeur, Suker had Kaká take countless pictures of him.

Kaká didn't mind. It was like scouting locations for a future date.

By noon, they had visited three attractions.

Kaká was exhausted.

"You're worse than my girlfriend when it comes to shopping!"

At a sidewalk café on Via Monte Napoleone, Kaká slumped in his chair.

Suker sipped his coffee, his head constantly turning.

This was his first time truly exploring Milan since leaving Zagreb, and he was excited.

Milan lived up to its name as a fashion capital.

Handsome men and stylish women—everyone was dressed to impress.

Especially in this season... so many long, fair legs it made his head spin.