Emperor of Football: Julien De Rocca

"Julien!!"

Hundreds of Bastia fans roared themselves hoarse, shouting the name of their hero in front of their eyes.

The Clermont fans at Stade Gabriel-Montpied fell into complete silence, heads in their hands, their thoughts still frozen at the moment before the goal.

They couldn't accept it.

"Ah!"

Der Zakarian angrily hurled the water bottle in his hand to the ground. Such a goal conceded was like having his face rubbed into the dirt.

With such a huge advantage, how could they be reversed like this?!

Not far from him, Dominique was already celebrating wildly with everyone on the bench.

Including Hadzibegic in the stands, who was excitedly pumping his arms and cheering, his face was flushed red with excitement.

"Oh! Incredible! Absolutely incredible! This is Julien's talent! He's thin, he's not fast, he doesn't even have much professional league experience, but at this moment, he's Bastia's hero!"

The Ligue 2 commentator was amazed by Julien's forward-moving ability, which was clearly above Ligue 2 level. "He shouldn't be here, he should be in a higher-level league!"

"Now the pressure's on Clermont's side. With more than ten minutes left, do they still have a chance to equalize?"

This question from the commentator was also the question on every gambling fan's mind.

"Damn it!"

"This is going to ruin me again, I've lost everything betting!"

"This promoted team is pretty fierce."

"Clermont, you're first in Ligue 2! Get it back! Damn it, how can you lose to a promoted team!"

The gambling fans had no home team.

But at this moment, their hearts were connected with the home team fans at Stade Gabriel-Montpied.

They were all hoping Clermont could still put on a goal-scoring show.

More than ten minutes.

Clermont dominated ninety percent of possession, but their attacks were blocked time and again outside the goal.

In the final minute, both sides nearly erupted into large-scale conflict again, but Clermont's players knew they were behind and swallowed their anger, quickly taking the kick-off to attack.

Unfortunately, under Bastia players' iron-willed defense, there was no miracle.

Beep!!

When Auguste blew the final whistle, Bastia fans erupted in cheers once more.

Auguste also breathed a huge sigh of relief—it was finally over.

This match had been hell to officiate.

Der Zakarian angrily kicked a water bottle by his feet and walked straight into the dressing room without looking back, extremely dissatisfied with this match.

Clermont players also looked dejected.

On Bastia's side, substitute players quickly rushed onto the field when the match ended, hugging and celebrating with the players on the pitch.

Especially Julien, who became everyone's focus.

Rotten gathered everyone to come under the away section stands to thank the traveling army of fans.

After singing the chant, someone in the stands led the shouting of Julien's name.

In unison, they raised their arms and shouted—

"Julien!!"

—Wave after wave of roars echoed through the pub, and under alcohol's influence, the fans seemed incredibly enthusiastic.

The way they raised their arms and shouted Julien's name with such devotion, as if Julien were a god descending upon Bastia.

Châtaigner and Pierre left quickly after the match ended, celebrating briefly before departing.

Bastia's celebration was very intense.

They were worried they couldn't handle it.

Indeed.

Even a street away from the pub, they could still faintly hear Julien's name and the sound of "Fighting Bastia."

Châtaigner was a bit dizzy from drinking.

He apologized to Pierre, "Let me rest for a few hours, we'll talk about the contract after dinner. Stay here tonight—Julien and the others will return to Bastia tonight."

"Good." Pierre was in great spirits now. His third son, whom he thought was finished, was soaring again.

A father's hopes for his son's success—nothing could compare to this.

After the match.

At the post-match press conference, Der Zakarian avoided many questions, repeatedly emphasizing, "The team is on the right path. Today we were the better side. We should have finished the match earlier. Under normal development, we would have been the winning side."

Such statements inevitably made fans think he was being stubborn.

On the other hand, Hadzibegic, though clearly unable to suppress the smile on his face during his interview, still "humbly" said, "Tonight the players showed tenacious spirit, which was great, especially Julien—his league debut was perfect.

But unfortunately, we received three red cards we shouldn't have, which will have a huge impact on our upcoming matches!

It could deal a devastating blow to our relegation battle.

Of course, we'll definitely persist to the end. Everyone at Bastia is ready to face any difficulties!"

The reporters were somewhat confused. Having just defeated the league leaders and sitting second, just one point from first place—"Relegation?"

Hadzibegic nodded, "Yes, our goal this season has always been to avoid relegation."

Whether others believed it or not didn't matter.

Hadzibegic himself didn't believe it—he had bigger ambitions.

That evening.

When Julien returned to Bastia's training facility, he was intercepted by Châtaigner.

"Congratulations! Tomorrow you'll be the headline in Bastia Daily again, haha."

After brief pleasantries, Châtaigner brought Julien to his office.

Julien saw Pierre and instantly understood what Châtaigner was doing—contract renewal!

"The afternoon match was brilliantly played! Julien, I'm proud of you."

When Pierre saw his child, his face was full of smiles. The exhaustion from life that had been in his eyes was now completely replaced by joy.

Julien could feel Pierre's emotions and walked over to give him a hug.

Pierre had once had a football dream too, but a flying tackle incident on the pitch not only broke his leg but also broke his future football path.

Pierre murmured, "Julien, I'm sorry for leaving you alone in Corsica. Your mother always wanted to move here. If we had been here, perhaps last year's incident wouldn't have happened. I'm sorry, very sorry. We need to take care of Loup and Jenny, we—"

"It's okay, I can take care of myself."

Perhaps the original Julien's downfall might have had something to do with this, but at least for him now, it had no impact whatsoever.

Châtaigner waited on the side until the father and son's emotions stabilized before continuing, "Perhaps we can discuss the contract?"

Pierre, as Julien's current agent, knew he needed to take the following matters very seriously. He quickly wiped his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "Of course."

It was called a discussion, but basically Châtaigner did all the talking.

"...Guaranteed playing time, salary-wise twenty thousand euros per month, plus goal bonuses, win bonuses, and end-of-season promotion bonuses and championship bonuses."

"Three-year contract, with the club having priority renewal rights under equal terms."

Châtaigner paused, then stated the final item.

"Release clause of five million euros."