Chapter 194: Are You a Sewer?

Words : 1461 Updated : Oct 3rd, 2025

"Drink! Party!" "Drink! Party!" "Drink! Party!" In the locker room, the players were shirtless, lining up shoulder-to-shoulder like a human train, marching in circles around the room. Suker stood at the front, holding the championship trophy in his hands. The trophy had a concave design. "Champagne's here!!" Davor Šuker burst into the locker room with two bottles of champagne. Boban, Bilić, and others followed closely behind. Suker quickly stepped up and snatched the champagne, shaking it vigorously. With a loud pop, he kept one hand over the bottle mouth while continuing to shake it. Champagne sprayed everywhere. Face flushed, Suker shouted, "Party time, guys! Let's go crazy!!" Whaaaaaaaaaah!! Everyone raised their arms and burst into loud cheers. Davor Šuker and the others were caught up in the excitement, linking arms with the younger players, jumping and dancing around. After the post-match press conference, Bešić walked in through the door. With a single wave of his hand, Bešić declared,"Everyone, go wash up now. Meet at the Maximilian Hotel at six!" The room fell silent for a brief moment, then erupted into even louder cheers. The party was officially on! Suker and the others rushed to the showers. Before long, everyone was washed up. Instead of heading back to the dorms, they boarded the team bus straight to the Maximilian Hotel. Outside the hotel, a crowd of journalists waited. Not just Croatian media, but reporters from across Europe. Suker and the others scratched their heads at the sight. "So annoying!" Suker and Modrić had just gotten off the bus when they were immediately swarmed by reporters. "Chelsea has made a new offer—any comments?" "Which club are you most interested in?" "Will Arsenal be your next team?" "Will you come to play in Germany?" Facing the barrage of questions, Suker raised his hand for quiet:"I'll give a general answer. I haven't decided on a club yet, nor do I have a clear preference. I'll make my decision when the transfer window opens." Then, a journalist suddenly shouted, "You'll come to Italy, right? It's perfect for you!" Suker glanced at the journalist's badge — from the Milan Gazette. With a smile, Suker responded. "What did he say?" some reporters asked, confused. But the Italian journalist's eyes lit up. Suker had answered in Italian. He said, "Depends on my mood." Just the fact that Suker spoke Italian said a lot. At the Maximilian Hotel, the entire second-floor banquet hall had been booked by Dinamo Zagreb. The party was buffet-style. Alcohol was stacked in the corners, free to grab. The new club chairman, Merst, was footing the bill! Of course, before any party — there had to be a speech. That's tradition. Merst stood on stage, passionately praising Dinamo Zagreb's success this season. He expressed strong support for Bešić and pledged more trust moving forward. Bešić was a hot commodity now — guiding the team into the Champions League quarterfinals had made him desirable to many top clubs. But it seemed he had no intention of leaving the Croatian league. "Ha~~~~" Suker yawned, glass in hand. Merst had been droning on for ages. "So damn long-winded," Modrić grumbled. Bešić turned and gave the two a sharp glare. Fortunately, Merst finished just then, and Bešić led the applause. Suker and Modrić clapped half-heartedly. "Bootlicker," Suker muttered under his breath. Modrić looked conflicted but didn't argue. "Anyone else want to say a few words?" Merst asked cheerfully. Davor Šuker cleared his throat and was about to step forward. Swish swish swish! A dozen death glares landed on him instantly. He raised his hands in surrender:"Nope!" "Then let the party begin! For the champions!" Merst raised his glass. "Cheers!" "Cheers!!!" The crowd shouted in unison and downed their drinks. Soon after, Merst, Bešić, the coaching staff, and Davor Šuker left for a private room. With no supervision, the young Dinamo players finally went wild. "Come on! I challenge you!" Duje Dujmović shouted at Suker. Suker scoffed, "Forgot the last time already?" "I wasn't in form then. This time, I'll win!" Two hours later, Suker and Modrić were dragging people out. Suker hoisted the drunken Dujmović and tossed him into the team bus, while Modrić hauled Srna. Then they went back and did the same for Rakitić and Vukojević. "Can't handle their liquor but still drink like madman," Suker said in annoyance. Modrić looked at Suker, a bit stunned. In two hours, Suker had downed the entire "Dujmović + Rakitić + Srna" alliance. It was like his mouth led straight to the sewer — the alcohol just disappeared with no effect. "Is your throat connected to a sewer or something?" Suker rolled his eyes."You're the sewer!" Modrić sighed, "So... now what?" "How should I know?" Suker shrugged. The party was over. Just then, Davor Šuker and Boban came out of the hotel. "Party's already over?" Davor Šuker asked in surprise. He had just finished his own socializing and wanted to join the youngsters — only to find it all over. Suker pointed to the bus."They're all lying in there." "So fast?" Boban asked, shocked. Suker: "Weaklings. Not one could keep up." "You can drink?" Davor Šuker raised an eyebrow. Suker stayed calm. "Wanna test me?" Davor Šuker smirked and pulled out his phone."Kardashian, book a private room and invite some girls." SnapHe shut the phone and grinned."Now the real party begins!" Zooming down the road. The four arrived at a lavish private club under Davor Šuker's lead. Two black-suited security guards stood at the entrance. Davor waved them through. Just as Suker was about to enter, one of the guards stopped him. "He's my guest!" Davor protested. Suker looked up, confused. The guard quickly apologized:"Sorry, Mr. Suker. I just want an autograph." He pointed at Suker."My kid is your fan." Suker understood. The guard fetched a piece of paper and marker. Suker froze. The guard realized something was off. "Wait a sec." He returned with a postcard. "Sign here." Suker signed it neatly. "Enjoy your night!" the guard said with a smile. The four took the elevator to the private suite. Inside, four young and beautiful women were already waiting. "I think that one in the middle is Miss Croatia, right?" Boban whispered. "How'd you get this hookup?" Davor Šuker gave a smug humph, walked into the room, and raised his bottle. "Ladies and gentlemen, the real party starts now!" With fine wine. And beauties. Suker indulged in some real luxury. Stuff he never even dreamed of before. After all, sports and entertainment often intertwine. These Croatian models wanted to boost their fame by associating with star players. Especially with Suker and Modrić — both rising stars in Europe. Of course, there were still rules to follow. Modrić blushed constantly, overwhelmed by the flirting and drinks. Suker, on the other hand, navigated it all like a veteran playboy. "Luka, let's take a picture? I want to show off to my friends," a model flirted, winking. Dizzy, Modrić nodded. "Okay." As they leaned in for a cozy shot, Suker suddenly stepped in. He gently closed the model's phone. "Let's skip the photo, shall we?" The model gave a slightly awkward smile. Suker dragged Modrić aside. "Stay sharp. You wanna be tomorrow's scandal headline?" Modrić blinked, confused."Huh?" "If that photo leaks, tomorrow it'll be 'Croatian midfield genius crashes and burns.'" "Then Zorančić has to clean up your mess!" Modrić scratched his head. "It's just a photo..." "Think, man!" Suker scolded, keeping Modrić close. Boban chuckled. "Suker knows how to stay in control." Davor shrugged. "But it'll be harder for him to get girls next time." After all, the models wanted photos to boost their fame. If Suker blocked that, they wouldn't be happy. But Davor raised his glass."The better he performs, the less he'll need to chase." "Let's test your drinking skills, Suker." Suker immediately grabbed the bottle. "Croatian sewer, ready for battle!" An hour later, Davor Šuker had to be carried to the car. Another party — over. Suker looked exasperated. "That's it?" He didn't even use his stamina recovery card this time — yet Davor still couldn't hold his liquor. Boban sighed. "You two grab a cab. I'll take him home." Suker and Modrić nodded. Modrić gave Suker a resentful look."You ruined two parties with your drinking." Suker scratched his head. Not his fault! They kept challenging him — what could he do? And it's not like he was allowed to refuse. "What now?" Suker asked. "Go home. What else?" Modrić said grumpily.

Chapter 194: Are You a Sewer?

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