Not long after—
Outside the office.
"One million euros."
Juninho D'Alessandro patted Vidic's agent on the shoulder and smiled.
The agent hesitated for a moment, gave Juninho a cautious glance, then finally turned and walked back toward the office.
"Wait for me," he muttered.
Exhale.
Juninho sighed quietly. Negotiating with agents was always better than dealing directly with the players.
Players think about their careers, dreams, and emotions. Agents? They only care about profit.
Of course, Morecambe would never mistreat its players. But in these early days, Juninho had to be a little aggressive—hook them in first.
"Hopefully, in three years' time, we won't need to recruit this way anymore," Juninho murmured to himself, his tone hopeful.
One day, he dreamed that young players across the world would say, "My dream is to play for Morecambe FC!"
A while later, Vidic's agent came out and approached Juninho.
"All settled?" Juninho asked.
The agent nodded.
"No issues. Let's finalize the contract."
Juninho followed him back inside.
In European football, unless you're dealing with a global superstar, the player-agent relationship is... tricky.
Yes, players have the final say, but they often trust their agents too much. One dishonest advisor, and a career can be derailed.
It's no wonder so many veterans look back and regret key transfers in their youth.
Inside, Juninho saw Vidic sitting calmly—he was already in the bag.
The world didn't know it yet, but this young Serb would one day become the steel gate of Morecambe's defense.
A future world-class center-back.
If money allows, Juninho mused, he'd pair him with someone like Rio Ferdinand. Now that would be a legendary backline.
---
ADVERTISEMENT
After some negotiation, Juninho and Vidic agreed to a five-year contract.
Release clause: €150 million
Weekly wage: €20,000
Performance bonuses:
€200,000 for 30 appearances
€200,000 promotion bonus
€20,000 per goal
€10,000 per assist
Both parties were happy.
Juninho felt like he'd struck gold. Vidic, meanwhile, was overjoyed—this was life-changing money.
The only downside was the steep release clause. For a relatively unknown defender in this era, it was excessive.
Still, after thinking it through, Vidic signed without complaint. Same with Ronaldinho earlier.
Juninho's reasoning was simple: he knew the future potential of these players. Better to lock them down now before bigger clubs came sniffing around.
The clause was just insurance. Deep down, Juninho believed he could convince them to stay long-term—with vision, results, and loyalty.
Once Vidic and his agent had left, Juninho remained in the office.
Only one last signing remained.
Zlatan Ibrahimović.
Out of all the talents he'd targeted, this one felt the most... consequential.
Zlatan didn't just bring elite skill. He brought fire, charisma, and unshakeable confidence.
Having him on the pitch was like activating a cheat code—a permanent BUFF of dominance and leadership.
It's no wonder he was still a starting striker for AC Milan at 40.
He could lift an entire team through sheer belief. With the right system, he was the ultimate spearhead.
Imagine it: Messi on the right, Ibrahimović through the middle... and one day, Cristiano Ronaldo on the left.
"Tsk." Juninho clicked his tongue, amused by his own ambition.
Just then—
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Footsteps echoed outside the office.
Juninho looked toward the door, his pulse quickening.
A tall figure—over 1.9 meters, with medium-length hair and a rebellious glare—strode in confidently.
Ibrahimović.
Juninho stood and extended his hand.
Zlatan gave a casual shake in return.
"No agent?" Juninho asked, glancing behind him.
"Raiola's busy," Zlatan said bluntly, then sat in the chair across from him.
Juninho also sat. "All right, then let's talk."
Raiola, of course, had a reputation. Powerful, shrewd... and known as a "vampire" among agents.
He probably didn't think Morecambe was worth his time and just sent Zlatan on his own.
Zlatan leaned forward, fixing Juninho with a piercing gaze.
"Why would a club like Morecambe dare to make an offer to me?"
Juninho didn't flinch.
"Because…" he paused, then said clearly, "If we make it to the Champions League, I believe you are the ideal striker for that journey."
Zlatan raised a brow, unimpressed. "The Champions League?"
His tone dripped with skepticism. "Why would a fourth-tier team even mention that?"
Juninho smiled.
"Before you came, I already completed two signings," he said calmly. "Ronaldinho, from Grêmio. Vidic, from Red Star Belgrade."
"They're not for promotion. They're for the future. For higher honors."
Zlatan's gaze sharpened. "Ronaldinho?"
"You know him?"
"I've seen his tapes," Zlatan nodded, thinking. "Incredible talent. Given time, he could become world-class. But... he's expensive. And proud. Did you really get him?"
Juninho answered without hesitation, "Yes. Club and personal terms agreed. €10 million."
He leaned forward slightly. "If our only goal was promotion, why spend that kind of money?"
Zlatan stared back at him, silent.
For the first time, he was genuinely considering it.
Juninho's eyes held a fire that was impossible to fake.
This man wasn't bluffing.
He wasn't just dreaming—he had plans.
Zlatan finally spoke.
"What is your goal?"
---