Become A Football Legend Chapter 369: Space (3)

"The football."

He gestured toward the ball.

"It’s the off-season."

Foden trapped the ball effortlessly against his foot.

"This is my life."

The answer came so naturally that everyone laughed.

At that exact moment another voice came from behind him.

"If football is your life, then what am I doing here?"

Foden immediately turned.

Rebecca Cooke stood near the entrance, arms crossed and trying very hard not to smile.

"Babe."

"Oh, now it’s babe."

"It was always babe."

"Sure."

Lukas immediately stepped back.

"Nope. This isn’t my argument."

Everyone burst out laughing.

The introductions continued for a few more minutes before Erling clapped his hands together.

"Right."

He pointed toward the entrance.

"Come on. Let me show you around."

The interior somehow managed to be even more impressive.

Ancient stone corridors stretched throughout the building. Massive wooden beams crossed the ceilings. Paintings and tapestries decorated sections of the walls. Some of the furniture looked centuries old.

Yet somehow everything had been modernized perfectly.

Hidden lighting illuminated the hallways.

Modern climate control kept the interior cool.

Glass panels had been integrated into certain sections without disrupting the historical architecture.

It felt like walking through a palace that had quietly adapted to the 21st century.

João spent most of the tour spinning around like a tourist.

Lukas wasn’t much better.

Eventually Erling led them up a wide stone staircase to the second floor.

"There are 3 rooms available up here."

He opened the doors one after another.

Each room looked larger than some apartments.

Private balconies overlooked the sea.

Massive beds occupied the center of each room.

The bathrooms alone were absurd.

"You can pick whichever one you want."

Lukas walked to one of the balconies and stared out toward the Mediterranean.

"Yeah."

He nodded.

"This will do."

A couple of hours later everyone had changed into more comfortable clothes and settled into the rhythm of the afternoon.

The sound of another vehicle entering the courtyard eventually drew their attention.

Oscar Bob had arrived.

The Norwegian midfielder stepped out alone carrying a travel bag over one shoulder.

After greetings and handshakes were exchanged, the group gathered on the terrace overlooking the coastline.

By then Erling had already taken command of a massive grill.

Several steaks sizzled over the flames while the Norwegian inspected them with the seriousness of a man preparing for a Champions League final.

Phil glanced toward Lukas.

"You haven’t tried Erling’s cooking, have you?"

"No."

Phil nodded knowingly.

"You’re in for a treat."

"Now you’re making me nervous."

"You should be."

Erling pointed a pair of tongs at him.

"Ignore him."

"I don’t know if that’s reassuring."

The guys naturally drifted toward football.

It was inevitable.

Different clubs.

Different leagues.

Different national teams.

Yet football remained the one thing they all had in common.

Nearby, Joanna had joined Isabel and Rebecca at another table.

The 3 women seemed deep in conversation already.

At one point Joanna said something that caused both Isabel and Rebecca to laugh.

A few moments later Joanna became serious again while explaining something with her hands.

Lukas narrowed his eyes.

"What do you think they’re talking about?"

Phil followed his gaze.

"No idea."

Lukas watched for another second.

"I hope I’m not in trouble."

Oscar immediately waved him off.

"Trust me."

"You’re fine."

"How do you know?"

"Because if you were in trouble, she’d be looking at you."

Lukas considered that.

"That’s actually a good point."

The conversation continued as the afternoon sun slowly drifted lower over the Mediterranean.

Plans were made for the following day.

The beach.

Maybe a boat trip.

Possibly exploring more of the island.

Nobody seemed particularly concerned with creating a strict schedule.

That was the whole point of being there.

For once, there were no matches to prepare for, no training sessions — well, except the daily LTC training — and no media obligations.

Just good food, good weather, and good company.

And judging by the smell coming from Erling’s grill, the food part was about to begin very soon.

A couple of hours later, the sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the Mediterranean in shades of gold and orange.

The long dining table had been set up on the terrace directly in front of the castle. From where they sat, they could see the sea stretching endlessly into the distance while the warm evening breeze drifted across the courtyard.

The food had finally arrived.

Or rather, Erling had finally allowed everyone to eat.

Several platters of steak occupied the center of the table alongside roasted vegetables, potatoes, fresh bread, and bottles of red wine.

Lukas cut into his steak and took his first bite.

Then he nodded.

Erling immediately noticed.

"Not bad, eh?"

Lukas pointed his fork at him.

"Okay."

Erling leaned forward.

"Okay?"

"This is really good."

The Norwegian striker sat back in satisfaction.

"I know."

Then he raised his wine glass.

"I could’ve been a chef."

Phil nearly choked on his drink.

"No."

"I could."

"No."

"A Michelin-star chef."

Lukas immediately shook his head.

"Calm down, man. It’s not that good."

The entire table burst into laughter.

Erling looked betrayed.

"I spend hours cooking for you."

"You spent 20 minutes."

"It felt like hours."

"To you, maybe."

The conversation continued naturally after that.

They talked about beaches they still wanted to visit.

Restaurants that had been recommended to them.

Boat trips.

Hidden coves around Mallorca.

The kind of things footballers rarely had time to discuss during a normal season.

For once, nobody was talking about training schedules or tactical meetings.

At least not initially.

That changed when Oscar suddenly put down his knife and fork.

"I think I’ll be leaving this summer."

The conversation immediately quietened.

Lukas looked up.

Phil looked up.

Even Joanna glanced over from her conversation with Rebecca and Isabel.

Erling, however, didn’t seem particularly surprised.

Instead, he simply nodded.

"Found somewhere?"

Oscar shook his head.

"My agent is still looking."

"Any preferences?"

"I’d like to stay in the Premier League."

Oscar paused.

"London if possible."

"Fulham. Crystal Palace. Maybe one of those."

Erling nodded thoughtfully.

"Good for your development."

Then he raised his glass slightly.

"Good luck."

The words came in Norwegian.

Oscar smiled immediately.

"Thanks."

For a moment everyone sat quietly.

Then João leaned toward Lukas and attempted what he clearly believed was a whisper.

Unfortunately everybody heard him.

"Bro, you just got here and people are already leaving."

Oscar burst out laughing.

"So it’s my fault now?"

"I’m just saying."

Oscar shook his head.

"No. I made this decision before the season ended."

His tone wasn’t bitter.

If anything, it sounded accepting.

"I need to play."

Nobody argued with that.

Everyone around the table understood.

Football careers were short.

Young players couldn’t afford to spend years sitting on the bench.

Phil nodded.

"I get it."

Oscar looked at him.

Phil pointed toward Lukas.

"Honestly, the competition’s ridiculous now."

Lukas laughed.

"What did I do?"

Phil ignored him.

"Kevin leaves and I think maybe I’ll finally get a clean run in the attacking midfield position."

He pointed toward Lukas.

"Then this guy arrives."

Then he pointed toward the castle.

"And then Cherki arrives."

Lukas lifted his hands defensively.

"To be fair, I don’t have to play as a 10."

"That’s not helping."

"I can play on the wing."

Erling immediately jumped in.

"Jeremy already has the left wing locked down."

"Okay."

"So that leaves the right wing."

"Okay."

"And the number 10."

Lukas looked around the table.

Then he shrugged.

"May the best man get the minutes."

Phil stared at him.

Then he started laughing.