Chapter 309: Please Give Us Four Years

Words : 1445 Updated : Oct 13th, 2025

The villa Suker bought was located in the central area of Zagreb, with complete surrounding facilities—hospitals, parks, shopping malls, schools, and more. There were even national-level theaters and sports centers. For Suker, a house in this area wasn't much of an expense. Croatia was still in a stage of recovery, but the government had not revitalized the economy. As a result, many young people—especially those in high-tech industries—chose to move to Western Europe in search of better opportunities. With the continuous outflow of young talent, it was even harder to boost the economy. Suker's house was a three-story manor-style villa with a large plot of land. Not only did it include professional housekeepers and landscapers, but it also had its own security staff. When the nanny van arrived at the entrance, the grand double iron gates slowly opened. Security guards on either side saluted enthusiastically—they clearly knew the owner was back and were eager to make a good impression. The vehicle drove all the way into the estate. This was Suker's first time visiting the house—everything had been handled by Zoran. From the looks of things, Zoran had done a great job. The estate included its own private football pitch, allowing Suker to train whenever he wished. Not far away stood the three-story villa. The car drove right up to the entrance, where two professional staff members immediately took care of the luggage. "Very grand!" Davo Suker remarked. Suker nodded. "It's my first time here too." As the two entered the villa, a noisy clamor came from the living room. "Pass the ball! Pass it!! Oh~~~ That was awful!" "Have you been sitting on the Juventus bench so long your brain's gone numb? Why didn't you pass?" "I wanted to shoot! Can you two shut up? You're ruining my game!" "Tommy, crush him! Shut that mouth of his!" In front of the TV, Modric, Mandzukic, Srna, and others were already gathered, playing video games. Davo Suker chuckled, "You guys are really inseparable." Suker shrugged, "They're all neighbors!" Back when Suker bought the villa, word spread fast, and Modric and the others soon purchased properties nearby—his estate became the center of their little circle. As Suker said, they weren't just friends—they were neighbors. "Whoa!! The champion is back!" Srna turned around with a grin. Dujmovic grabbed Srna's pant leg. "Don't run! I've lost ten straight matches—this one's my comeback!" Srna glanced down and shut off the console. "Ahhhhhh!!!" Dujmovic roared and tackled Srna to the floor. The rest of the group crowded around. "One season, and you've already won the Champions League!" "Looks like you've gotten taller!" "I thought you'd lose, but that second-half explosion was crazy!" Modric and the others surrounded Suker, chattering non-stop. Davo Suker smiled and waved his hand, "Alright, I'll leave you guys to it." Suker invited, "Let's have a get-together tonight!" Davo Suker shook his head. "I've got some things with the FA." Suker didn't insist. Once Davo Suker left, Suker glanced around. Modric and Pranjic looked a lot stronger than a year ago—clearly shaped by the physical demands of the Premier League. Mandzukic hadn't changed much physically, but his eyes looked sharper. Vukojevic and Dujmovic had met him not long ago. Srna looked the same. "How's everyone been doing?" Suker asked as he dropped his backpack. Immediately, the room exploded in chatter. Especially Modric and Pranjic—they had become complete chatterboxes after a year apart. "Enough!" Suker called out, his head ringing from the noise. "Let's figure out dinner—we'll drink and party tonight." Just as he said that, Mandzukic pointed to the kitchen. "Why order dinner? You've got a private chef!" Right then, a staff member handed Suker a menu. Suker was stunned. He could order food in his own house? This estate life was too good to be true. There was not only a chef but also a wine cellar in the basement. The first floor had a dedicated reception hall. At the long table, everyone sat on either side. Staff brought out delicious dishes, and all Suker and his friends had to do was eat and drink. "That first half in the final? You guys were awful!" Dujmovic grinned. "I wanted to run on and help!" he added. Vukojevic cut in, "It was Milan. You think they needed your help?" Dujmovic shouted, "So what if it's Milan? Watch me beat them in the future!" Suker, chewing on some dried squid, looked at Modric."Your Champions League run was kind of unlucky too." Modric put down his soup spoon and sighed. "Nothing we could do. The gap in overall strength was too big—we still need more time to gel. Maybe next season we'll do better." "No need to feel bad for him." Srna pointed at Modric, grinning. "The guy's got a girlfriend now!" Cough cough cough! Suker nearly spat out his drink. Modric? With a girl? That news hit harder than an earthquake. Suker turned to Modric, who scratched his head sheepishly. "I'll introduce her to you guys later. Her name's Vanja. We met a few times when I was at Dinamo Zagreb. Things felt right. When I came back this time, I confessed—and she said yes!" Whoa!!!! Suker's jaw dropped. "So you've been dating under our noses?" he said, pointing at himself. "And we had no idea?" Modric waved his hands. "We only met a few times—nothing official back then!" "Drink! You've got to drink for this!" Suker shouted, raising his glass. Everyone started cheering loudly. Modric smiled and downed the drink. Suker raised his glass again. "To Luka—he's finally become a man!" The cheers and laughter echoed around the room. After a few rounds, everyone was tipsy. Suker began calling cars to send everyone home. Mandzukic didn't leave—he hadn't bought a place nearby yet. The next day, Suker and the others were invited to an interview with Croatian National Television. The host was veteran commentator Kraljevic, who would conduct personal interviews with Suker, Modric, Mandzukic, Pranjic, Vukojevic, and Dujmovic. In front of the camera, the group sat in a neat row. Each held a microphone, joking and laughing quietly. Kraljevic sat across from them, his eyes filled with emotion. Though it had only been a year, it felt like a lifetime ago. Even now, he—and the fans of Dinamo Zagreb—still remembered that wild summer last year. "We're about to begin!" Kraljevic said toward the camera. The group immediately straightened up. "No need to be nervous," Kraljevic chuckled. "Just a casual interview." They relaxed a bit. "First question—how have you adapted to your new teams?" They all looked at each other. Finally, Suker raised the mic. "Pretty well!" The others rolled their eyes. "How does it feel to win the Champions League?" Kraljevic smiled. Suker replied, "Like a dream. I used to watch it on TV, always imagining myself in a final. But when it actually happened, it felt unreal." Then he pointed to the others. "Ask them—they've probably imagined it even more times!" Cue another round of eye-rolls. Suker laughed. "Keep rolling your eyes, and I'll smack you!" Kraljevic laughed with them. "Alright, let's move on to the main topic—will you be watching the World Cup?" Everyone nodded. "Yes!" "What do you think of this World Cup?" That was a tricky one. Everyone looked to Suker again, but he shoved the mic into Srna's hands. Srna panicked for a moment—but no one else would take it. So he had no choice. "Well, I'm the only one here who played in the qualifiers, so I'll speak. "When we got eliminated, it hurt. Part of it was our performance, but we also failed the fans. "I know the Croatian people are still angry. It's 2006, and the whole world is celebrating—but because of us, our fans can't shout their support at the World Cup." "I can't speak for the past, only for myself—and say, I'm sorry." With that, Srna stood up and gave a deep bow. Suker started clapping to ease the tension. Once Srna sat back down, his face grew determined. "Please give us four years. In 2010, we'll go to South Africa together!" His words were powerful. Suker raised his arm and shouted: "2010, South Africa! If we don't go, strip him!" "No! Shave his head!" "Naked lap! Naked lap!" Everyone shouted different punishments. But in the end, all voices united: "2010! See you in South Africa!"

Chapter 309: Please Give Us Four Years

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