After signing with AC Milan, I will be the king of football!-Chapter 1660 - 456: The Wonderful Wizard of the Green Wilds

Chapter 1660: Chapter 456: The Wonderful Wizard of the Green Wilds

Sitting in a rocking chair watching TV, Inzaghi held a glass of wine and took a sip.

Poor-quality whiskey was full of flavoring, and the taste rushed from Inzaghi’s taste buds straight to his brain.

For a moment, Inzaghi thought about putting down this bottle of whiskey, which cost only a few bucks, as he highly doubted that even dessert shops would use such horrible-tasting alcohol.

But looking down at the seal paste mark that had yet to wash off his index finger, Inzaghi decided to continue tasting the bitterness.

With his current salary of less than 2 million euros, it was unclear when he could pay off his accumulated millions in debt.

Inzaghi even wondered if he’d end up owing billions by the time he died.

"That bastard Kevin, couldn’t he have gone for sprinting earlier?"

Inzaghi muttered, complaining.

He desperately needed some short-term financial planning.

If Huang Kaiwen could race against Bolt once more, it would definitely be highly anticipated, not to mention Huang Kaiwen being seen as the underdog.

Just one match like that, and he could turn his fortunes around.

Inzaghi was considering whether to sell off some assets, and a few seconds later he shook his head.

Anyway, owing is owing; there’s no rush to pay back.

And Kevin couldn’t do anything to him.

Inzaghi put down the wine glass.

What appeared on TV was himself.

The reporter asked, "Filippo, you scored 8 goals today, creating history. Can you tell us your secret?"

"The secret is persuading your teammates to pass the ball to you, it’s that simple."

Said Inzaghi on TV.

The reporter followed up, "Then how do you persuade them?"

"That’s a secret. If anyone wants to know, they’ll need to pay a certain fee." Inzaghi said seriously to the camera.

"Alright, let’s drop that topic. Here’s the last question."

The reporter asked, "Why aren’t you happy even after scoring so many goals?"

"I simply have higher standards for myself," continued TV Inzaghi. "If you ask if I was happy for scoring eight goals in the UEFA Champions League, I’d tell you I was only happy for a short while. That’s my secret to success. If you want to know what value those eight goals hold, I can only say those eight goals equal 5.12 million for me!" Sitting in the rocking chair, Inzaghi reached for the remote control and turned off the TV.

Inzaghi looked at the blank screen and thought, should I follow Kaka’s example and find a wealthy woman to marry?

Thinking about over 5 million made Inzaghi ache.

But when he remembered pushing the UEFA Champions League single-match scoring record to eight goals, Inzaghi laughed again.

Five million comes often, but scoring eight goals in a single match is rare.

This money was worth spending!

After figuring it out, Inzaghi hummed a Piacenza tune and left with his keys.

Money concerns can wait.

He had to celebrate scoring eight goals first.

Inzaghi stepped out, opened his arms, and shouted, "Now, the chance to score is off the pitch, go Pippo!"

Inzaghi decided not to hit on the drunken women outside the bar.

He preferred a bit of sobriety.

...

It was late at night.

Guardiola was still sitting in his study.

His ashtray held half a cigar.

Guardiola held the Spanish edition of "The Complete Poetry of Pizarnik," the Chinese translation titled "The Naming of Night."

Pizarnik was known as a cursed suicidal poet.

Her poetry was filled with loneliness and desire, fragmentation and death, as she wrote in her pain.

Guardiola had read her works before, but now he had new realizations.

Could it be possible that Pizarnik, tortured by insomnia, either sacrificed or was offered by someone else, trading it for talent?

Thinking of this, Guardiola once more opened the medical records of Huang Kaiwen at hand.

A total of 99 injuries plagued Huang Kaiwen early in his football career, frequently occurring whether in Milan or Real Madrid.

But after transferring to Chelsea, the injuries became significantly less frequent.

Looking at the press cuttings about Mourinho’s injuries, suspensions, and involvement in various witchcraft activities.

Even Mourinho’s assistant coach Boas was one of Guardiola’s concerns.

Whether in football or in Barcelona, Guardiola had encountered many mysterious events.

He himself had some superstitious habits.

Like wearing the same pair of Cruyff shoes and hugging his assistant Torrent before the game.

He had good endurance for these matters.

But Guardiola just wanted to know how they did it?

Unable to figure it out, Guardiola reached for his mobile phone and dialed the number.

He believed, given the pressure at Real Madrid, the person wouldn’t be asleep yet.

"Pep?" The phone was quickly picked up, and the person on the other end asked in confusion.

"It’s me, Jose."

Guardiola said.

"Why did you think to call me? Are you trying to teach me how to deal with Barcelona?" Mourinho asked with a laugh.

It was a complete tease.

Guardiola chuckled too, then asked, "How’s it in Spain?"

"Not bad. The players tried to act all high and mighty, but I told them I have three UEFA Champions League titles, more than they do, and they settled down." Said Mourinho on the phone.

Guardiola:...

For whatever reason, he suddenly wanted to hang up.

Guardiola said, "Sounds good, the world’s best coach certainly has that kind of confidence. But why aren’t you sleeping yet, isn’t it going well at Real Madrid?"

Silence fell on the other end for a moment before speaking, "Not that well, the fans don’t quite understand my coaching style, they want crappy beautiful football. You should understand that I give the forward players wide-ranging freedom to express themselves, but they can’t get it together. Ah, envy that you have Kevin... "