Become A Football Legend-Chapter 165: Blue (by Midnight87)

Chapter 165: Blue (by Midnight87)
The next morning.
The crisp morning air at Dortmund’s training ground carried a quiet energy. The players moved through light stretches and recovery exercises, some chatting casually while others looked half-asleep after the emotional high of the previous night.
Lukas had his headphones around his neck, quietly hydrating as Musiala walked over, his usual grin already in place."Morning, superstar," he said, nudging Lukas lightly. "Still thinking about yesterday’s game?"
Lukas chuckled. "Trying not to, actually."
"Good. Because you’ll be scoring those for Bayern soon anyway," Musiala teased, smirking.
Before Lukas could respond, Stiller walked up, phone in hand. "Uh, you might want to see this."
He turned the screen around. The headline from Sky Germany was bold and impossible to miss:
"Lukas Brandt’s €75M clause revealed — Eintracht Frankfurt looking to double salary and fee as Europe’s elite circle."
Lukas blinked. "You’ve got to be kidding me."
Musiala leaned closer. "Is that true? You’ve got a release clause?"
Lukas hesitated. "It’s... not completely false. But not completely true either."
He left it at that. What he didn’t say — what only he, Marco and his dad knew — was that the clause wasn’t a typical one. It was a good-faith negotiation clause, designed to allow foreign clubs to open talks at a set price, but it wasn’t binding. And crucially, it was only valid for clubs outside Germany, meaning it wouldn’t help Bayern Munich in the slightest.
As they whispered among themselves, phones started buzzing all around the room. News spreads fast in football — faster when it concerns a teenage prodigy. A few of the players shot Lukas playful looks, others congratulated him, but the attention was exactly what he didn’t want.
Just then, Nagelsmann entered the room with his assistants. The chatter died down almost immediately."Alright, lads," the coach began, clapping his hands. "I know you’ve all seen the news, but let’s stay grounded. What happens at your clubs — contracts, rumours, transfer talk — it’s all part of the game. What matters now is recovery. You’ve earned your rest."
He paced slowly in front of them."Go back, focus on your football, and enjoy your time off. We’ll meet again in June for the semifinals. Until then, keep sharp."
The players applauded lightly, and within minutes, the session began to break up. Groups of teammates exchanged hugs and jokes before heading their separate ways. Lukas, however, slipped his phone from his bag and called Marco the second he stepped outside.
"Tell me you’ve seen it," Lukas said without preamble.
"I have," Marco sighed on the other end. "First Atletico finds out, now Sky Germany? Someone’s talking. I don’t know who yet."
"Can we do anything about it?" Lukas asked."Not really. The clause isn’t a secret clause, it’s just... not meant to be public knowledge. Now that it’s out, Frankfurt will rush to revise your deal. They’ll want that clause gone before the summer window opens."
Lukas exhaled slowly. "We’ll talk in person. I’m heading back to the hotel."
"Good. I’ll meet you there," Marco said.
An hour later, they met in the lobby. Javi was already waiting by the glass doors, a travel bag slung over his shoulder. Marco joined them moments later, tablet in hand.
"Alright," Marco said. "Change of plans. Puma expects us in Munich by early afternoon. We’ll take a short flight out. We can discuss everything on the way."
"Sounds good," Lukas said, tugging his cap lower over his face as they stepped toward the waiting car.
The hum of conversation filled the air as they drove toward the airport. Marco tapped on his screen, showing Lukas the latest updates — articles from Marca, L’Équipe, and Sky Italia all ing the same story. Europe had noticed.
"They’ll all be watching you now," Marco said quietly. "Which means you need to play this smart. Don’t sign anything yet. Let Frankfurt cool down a bit. When we’re done with Puma, we’ll regroup."
Javi nodded from the front seat. "And remember, son, no matter what anyone says — don’t let them rush you out of Germany. You’re building something special here."
Lukas leaned back, watching the skyline drift by through the window. "I know, Dad," he said softly.
The car turned toward Dortmund Airport, sunlight gleaming off its metallic roof. Ahead lay Munich — and another day in a life that was becoming more extraordinary by the minute.
* * *
The conference room in Manchester was a striking blend of elegance and precision — much like the club it belonged to.
Floor-to-ceiling glass walls framed a panoramic view of the Etihad Campus below, where the morning light spilt across immaculate training pitches and the cool silver-and-sky-blue geometry of City’s facilities gleamed like something out of the future.
A long oak table stretched across the centre of the room, polished to a mirror finish. Behind it hung a massive framed photo of the 2023 treble-winning squad — a reminder of the golden era now teetering on the edge of transition.
Inside, the air hummed with quiet tension. Txiki Begiristain, Ferran Soriano, and Pep Guardiola sat together, flanked by two sharply dressed assistants who moved with quiet efficiency, sliding tablets across the table. The screens glowed with the headline everyone in football was reading that morning:
"Sky Germany: Eintracht Frankfurt Wonderkid Lukas Brandt Has €75M Clause — Europe’s Giants on Alert."
Pep’s brow was furrowed, his arms folded. "We can do with him," he said bluntly, eyes fixed on the image of Lukas mid-celebration. "That kid... he plays with fire, with imagination. He’s not afraid. Almost reminds me of a young Leo — very direct, very vertical — but still only 16."
Begiristain nodded slowly, scrolling through Lukas’s recent performances — clips from the Nations League, Europa League, and Bundesliga. "He’s not wrong," he said, glancing at Soriano. "For his age, he plays like he’s been in the league for ten years."
Soriano, however, didn’t look convinced. "16," he repeated, tapping his finger lightly against the table. "That’s exactly my point. He’s 16. We’ve seen this story before — how many 16-year-olds do you know have played in the Premier League? Will he survive the intensity of the league? England could eat him alive."
Pep leaned forward, the spark of obsession glinting in his eyes. "He’s not English," he countered. "He’s German. And not just any German. He’s got discipline — structure — but also flair. That’s rare. You can see it in the way he makes decisions, the way he anticipates before the ball even gets there. Players like that don’t come around often. We need him."
He gestured toward the window, where the training pitches shimmered faintly in the morning haze."Look at us. We’re out of the Champions League. The Premier League? We’re fighting just to stay in the top four. The squad’s getting old — my squad is getting old. Kevin can’t run games like before. Phil, this season, injury after injury. Bernardo’s legs can’t do eighty minutes of intensity anymore."
Guardiola paused, lowering his voice. "When I extended my contract last year, you gave me your word that we would rebuild this squad together. This is who I want. We can’t miss him."
For a moment, silence lingered. The only sound came from one of the assistants quietly setting down a tray of coffee cups.
Txiki finally broke it. "I agree with Pep," he said. "75 million, if true, is a bargain. Frankfurt sold us Marmoush last window — we have a good relationship there. We know how they work."