Hadzibegic's tone carried clear resentment.
The Bosnian truly didn't want Julien to suffer any injuries. This season was a crucial moment for Bastia.
Julien was Bastia's absolute core.
With him and without him, they were two completely different teams.
"I'm not against the national team calling up Julien—quite the opposite. I'd love to see Julien shine on the national stage.
But— I think any French fan wouldn't want to see Julien overworked and injured. He already has a serious injury history."
In this interview, Hadzibegic barely discussed the match itself. He spent almost the entire time talking about Julien's two injuries while on national duty.
The reporter could feel the palpable frustration emanating from Hadzibegic.
After thanking the fans, the Bastia players returned to the dressing room.
Julien and Mané walked side by side.
"You held back out there. That's not your level. Don't carry that psychological burden—we're the winners."
After the match, Julien noticed Mané's low mood, which contrasted sharply with the jubilant atmosphere at Stade Cesari.
Lukaku, De Bruyne, and Kanté had seamlessly integrated into the team, becoming Hadzibegic's absolute first-choice players.
Mané was different.
Because of Julien's presence, Bastia had a serious tactical imbalance—heavily favoring the right over the left, and the wings over the center.
Hadzibegic hadn't given much thought to opening up the left flank.
He mostly treated the left side as a defensive zone, requiring the left winger to take on considerable additional defensive duties.
This was mainly because De Bruyne, Lukaku, and Julien didn't track back.
If the left side also didn't defend, Bastia's midfield would be under enormous pressure.
Kanté was strong, but he wasn't meant to be used that way.
The left wing was used to stretch the opposition's defense, without sufficient tactical support for attacking play.
Mané was, in essence, sacrificed.
Mané simply nodded. With his introverted personality, he clearly didn't want to chat much in the player tunnel.
Julien patted Mané's shoulder again. "Relax. You'll definitely become the team's starting left winger. We all know your ability."
Mané looked at Julien and smiled.
He still didn't say more. He didn't know how to express himself—perhaps because seeing his fellow summer arrivals like Kanté and De Bruyne performing excellently and becoming team starters, becoming the objects of fans' cheers, while he carried the burden of being "Bastia's record signing," it had become a psychological weight.
The more he wanted to perform, the harder it became to perform.
In his brief time on the pitch, he had lost possession multiple times. He knew something was wrong, but the mental burden was hard to shake off.
Back in the Dressing Room, Teammates wore victorious smiles on their faces. They chatted amongst themselves, looking relaxed.
Lukaku loved being the center of attention. Shirtless, he stood in the middle of the dressing room. "Hey, everyone! Four-goal victory! I think we're terrifyingly strong now! We won a treble last month, right?"
Waving his hands with a cocky expression, "I think we should bag at least another trophy this season!"
Lukaku pointed at other players, asking, "Come on, tell me what trophies you want."
Rothen, ever the atmosphere maker, shouted, "Ligue 1 championship!"
Vincent added from the side, "And the Coupe de France!"
Lukaku laughed, "That's already a double! If we win doubles in consecutive seasons, all our names will be etched into this land, preserved with the club's history forever."
Choplin, Angula, and others looked toward Julien, asking, "Julien, what do you think?"
Julien met their gazes. He understood what this was about.
With the new season's uncertainties and not knowing the team's plans, they needed a solid goal.
Julien stood up without hesitation.
As captain, he had spoken with Chataigner and knew the attitude of the club's hierarchy and owner for the new season—
Support the team at all costs!
Geronimi was determined in a way that didn't seem like a newly promoted team's owner.
Outside the Dressing Room, Chataigner had been about to enter but heard Choplin's question to Julien. He stopped in his tracks.
He also blocked Hadzibegic, who had just returned from his interview.
Chataigner gestured for silence and pointed toward the dressing room.
Both men stood by the door.
Inside the Dressing Room:
After Julien stood up, his gaze swept over his teammates. The others instinctively stopped what they were doing.
No one looked down on him because of his age.
Julien extended his palm and opened it.
"There are still five trophies we can compete for this season. So, someone will win these competitions—why can't it be us?"
With a smile, Julien added, "Why can't it be all of us?"
"Whoa!"
This statement left his teammates stunned.
At most, they had been thinking about one or two trophies. Who knew Julien was thinking about all five!
Ligue 1, Coupe de la Ligue, Coupe de France, Europa League.
That was four.
Lukaku asked, "Is the fifth one the Trophée des Champions? We won't even be there by then—"
Lukaku had been about to say they might not even be at Bastia by then, but he immediately stopped himself.
Even without much emotional intelligence, he knew some things shouldn't be said aloud.
Julien shook his head. "No, the fifth is the UEFA Super Cup."
Gasps!
Hearing this, the other teammates couldn't stay seated. Vincent even stood up directly.
"My God, Julien! You want to beat the Champions League winner too?!"
The UEFA Super Cup was a direct clash between that season's Champions League winner and Europa League winner.
With these words from Julien, the Bastia players were truly dumbfounded.
This goal seemed impossibly ambitious.
What gave them the right?
If it were one trophy, maybe two, they might have confidence.
But five?
Vincent and others thought this was pure fantasy.
Even Lukaku wondered—could a newly promoted team really achieve this? Winning a cup competition like the Coupe de France or Coupe de la Ligue would already be incredible.
Outside the Door:
Chataigner and Hadzibegic exchanged knowing smiles.
Chataigner said helplessly, "Young people, you know."
Hadzibegic agreed, "Understandable."
It seemed everyone thought this was impossible.
But behind Julien, De Bruyne suddenly looked up, staring at Julien's back, his eyes burning with passion.
This summer had been one of the darkest two-month periods of De Bruyne's life.
His girlfriend's betrayal.
Joining Chelsea in the winter window, thinking he could finally showcase his abilities, only to be loaned out.
De Bruyne had even begun to doubt himself—maybe he really wasn't good enough.
But when he saw the football, he firmly believed that whether he was good enough wasn't for others to decide.
It would be decided by victories, by trophies!
What was the purpose of coming to Bastia?
Wasn't it to prove himself?
"I think Julien is absolutely right. Someone will be champions—why can't it be us?"
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