Football: My AI System Provides Max-Level Predictions-Chapter 765 - 552: Awakening the Dreamer with One Phrase: Desire to become Tang Long? You will never be him! (Two in One)

Late at night, inside Kempinski Hotel in Munich, it was so quiet that only the occasional breeze could be heard outside the windows.

Bonazzoli lay on the soft large bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

Sometimes he lay flat on his back with limbs outstretched, sometimes curled up on his side, sometimes burying his face into the pillow, even covering his entire head with the quilt, but no matter how he changed his posture, sleep eluded him.

Excitement and nervousness intertwined within him, and in the quiet room, he could hear his own heart pounding.

"Can't sleep, really can't sleep, what should I do?"

Bonazzoli mumbled to himself in the dark, then fumbled with his hand to turn on his phone.

The glaring screen displayed the time clearly—2:30 AM.

Helpless, he sat up, propping a thick soft pillow securely behind his back, and then slightly turned the bed lamp's knob.

With a click, the bed lamp emitted a faint yellow glow, spreading a soft halo of light in the double room.

His roommate, Ranocchia, was sleeping on the bed next to him, deeply immersed in dreams, snoozing sweetly, with bursts of snoring coming from his side.

This was the first time in Bonazzoli's life to embark on such an important journey with the team, competing in the Champions League knockout stage.

And their opponent was the mighty Bayern Munich.

Recalling the first leg duel, Bonazzoli was filled with bitterness.

He sat on the bench for the entire 90 minutes, watching his teammates fight on the pitch yet never got even a minute to play.

Back then, he watched the fast-paced offense and defense transitions on the field, the players fighting fiercely, the situation as tense as a taut bowstring.

At that moment, a sense of relief surprisingly arose in Bonazzoli's heart, secretly thinking: "If I were to face such a powerful opponent at the Etihad Stadium, I fear I'd make a fool of myself and become the laughing stock."

After all, he had a clear understanding of his own strength, and facing Bayern's two main center-backs, Boateng and Martinez, was far from reassuring.

During the match, he could only stand by the sidelines, like his predecessor Berni back at Inter Milan, vigorously waving a towel, cheering with all his might for his teammates.

"Tang, nice shot, nice shot!"

"It's in, it's in, yeah!!!"

His passionate cheers were particularly loud on the bench, as if he wanted to release all his enthusiasm.

In his eyes, Tang Long, who scored twice in that match, was like a god of war descending from the sky, dominating the pace of the game with every move.

Every time Tang Long scored, Bonazzoli felt as if a bright light was shining down from the night sky, instantly illuminating the entire pitch, dazzlingly brilliant.

Thinking of this, Bonazzoli couldn't help but let the corners of his mouth curve slightly upward, a silly smile appearing on his face under the dim light.

But the smile didn't last long; the excitement and nervousness continued to surge in his heart, making it even harder for him to sleep.

Unable to lie down any longer, he tiptoed to gently take out his diary from the luggage bag by the bed.

Then he walked to the desk, sat down slowly, and reached out to gently press the desk lamp's switch.

With a "pop", the lamp lit up, casting a soft light on his slightly youthful face.

Bonazzoli had always had a habit of keeping a diary; this diary was like his most loyal companion, following him everywhere the team went, recording every little joy and sorrow of his life.

[Mom, it's already past 2 AM, but I just can't sleep.]

[I remember you once told me that when dad was still alive, he brought you to Munich for your honeymoon, when I hadn't yet come into this world, and you were still young and healthy.]

[That's more than twenty years ago, right? I'm really curious, the Munich you saw then, how does it compare to the city before my eyes now?]

[Right now, I'm in Munich, but I'm not here for a honeymoon. Dear mom, if only you were by my side now, I'd hug you tightly and tell you how nervous I am inside!]

Bonazzoli was lost in reminiscence and confiding, the handwriting flowing smoothly across the pages.

Suddenly, his finger twitched violently, the pen tip pressed too hard and tore through the thin paper with a crisp tearing sound.

Almost simultaneously, Ranocchia turned over, muttering a few incoherent words in his sleep.

Bonazzoli held his breath instantly, turning to stare at Ranocchia, afraid of waking this deeply sleeping roommate.

After confirming Ranocchia hadn't woken up, Bonazzoli exhaled slightly, continuing to write in his diary.

[In the first leg at home, I didn't even get a minute to play.]

[However, just two days ago, Coach Guardiola found me, told me to be fully prepared, and hinted that I'd be coming off the bench in this match!]

[I was beyond excited; during the last training session, he specially called me aside to explain tactics thoroughly for a full 10 minutes.]

[Honestly, some parts confused me a lot, and after training, I hurried to ask Chiwo for help. Chiwo patiently explained to me, but I still felt at sea, my mind was all jumbled up.]