Dein nodded thoughtfully.
Both names had been circling in his considerations for a while now. Van Dijk was reasonable and quite easy to poach, but Varane's situation was much more complications. Unless the player himself pushed hard for a move, Liverpool would struggle to pry him away from Real Madrid's grasp.
The current Real Madrid and Barcelona were still the promised lands in most players' dreams, the pinnacle clubs that young footballers plastered on their bedroom walls as children.
Liverpool had been absent from the top-flight title race for over twenty years. For many ambitious players, that reality positioned Liverpool several rungs below the elite trio of Real Madrid, Barcelona, and Bayern Munich in the European football hierarchy. Liverpool might have history and passion, but recent silverware spoke louder than century-old victories.
Still, Dein met the challenge head-on and said. "I'll give it everything I've got."
After a moment, he shifted the conversation. "Did you catch the midweek Champions League matches? There might be some players worth monitoring—even if we can't bring them in during the winter window, we could make a push in summer. What about looking at the Team of the Week selections?"
When Julien heard David consulting him on such matters, he felt torn between two reactions.
On one hand, he wondered if David was vastly overestimating his expertise. What did he really know about who would fit the team's system?
His real advantage wasn't tactical excellence, it was simply borrowing knowledge from a future that hadn't happened yet, and cherry-picking players whose careers he already knew would flourish.
But on the other hand, he recognized the gesture for what it was: David was treating him as an equal. The top guy in club management wasn't patronizing him or dismissing his say because of his age. This was peer-to-peer conversation, professional respect flowing both ways across the desk.
Julien had indeed watched some of the matches.
In the opening round of the Champions League group stage, aside from Juventus and Chelsea stumbling, the powerhouse clubs had largely swept their opponents. Real Madrid, Bayern Munich, Manchester City, and Barcelona had all secured convincing victories, some were absolutely dominant.
UEFA's official website had released their Champions League Round One Team of the Week, with the front three positions occupied by a dream trio: Cristiano Ronaldo, Wayne Rooney, and Lionel Messi.
Between them, those three had produced eight goals and two assists across ninety minutes of football, it was a statistical demolition that seemed almost fictional.
Real Madrid had gutted Galatasaray 6-1 at the Santiago Bernabéu, with Ronaldo orchestrating nine shots on goal throughout the match. His hat-trick plus one assist made him the undisputed star of that massacre.
With those three goals, Ronaldo had now reached fifty goals in Champions League main competition, drawing level with Thierry Henry in fourth place on the all-time scorers list, trailing only Ruud van Nistelrooy, Messi, and Raúl.
One day after Ronaldo's hat-trick propelled Real Madrid to victory, Messi answered with his own hat-trick, helping Barcelona dismantle Ajax 4-0 at the Camp Nou in what felt like a direct response to his eternal rival.
Last season, Ronaldo had won the Champions League Golden Boot with twelve goals. This season, the battle between him and Messi for top scorer had ignited from the very first matchday, two titans were already trading blows across Spain like heavyweight boxers in adjacent rings.
Rooney had stretched his excellent form into Europe, bagging a brace and an assist as Manchester United defeated German challengers Bayer Leverkusen 4-2 at Old Trafford.
The goals also brought him to a significant personal milestone: two hundred career goals for Manchester United, a number that cemented his status in the club's pantheon.
The Team of the Week also included Gerard Piqué, who had scored his first goal in seven months, and Johan Wiland, Copenhagen's goalkeeper who had produced several crucial saves to secure a 1-1 draw against Juventus.
But these weren't the players capturing Dein's attention.
Arsenal right-back Kieran Gibbs. Benfica center-back Ezequiel Garay. Bayern left-back David Alaba. Basel's right-sided forward Mohamed Salah. These were the names that mattered and were the realistic targets Liverpool could actually pursue.
Among them, Julien felt conflicted whenever he thought about Salah.
Bringing Salah to Liverpool at this stage wasn't necessarily the optimal choice. Right now, even Raheem Sterling was struggling to break into the first team consistently. The path ahead simply wasn't clear.
Moreover, Rodgers showed no willingness to adjust his tactical approach. He even preferred deploying Julien on the right wing, and that rigidity would only create problems for another wide player fighting for minutes.
Still, Salah's talent was undeniable and impossible to ignore.
When Chelsea hosted Basel at Stamford Bridge, few neutrals would have predicted the final scoreline: Chelsea 1-2 Basel, a genuine upset in west London.
Salah had needed just two shots to pierce through Petr Cech's goal twice, leaving him grasping at air. Including the qualifying rounds, Salah had now scored four goals from just ten shots across five Champions League appearances showing an efficiency rate that screamed quality.
Eventually, as the conversation with Dein wandered through various topics, Julien mentioned Salah almost in passing. "He's seriously talented. I could already see it last season playing at Bastia. He has genuine ability."
Dein acknowledged the observation with a nod.
The discussion then drifted toward Ronaldo and Messi's competing hat-tricks in the Champions League. Dein's expression turned philosophical. "When the entire world goes mad for Cristiano and Leo's trebles, I can't help feeling this stage is missing a third protagonist."
He turned his gaze directly toward Julien, a knowing smile was creeping across his face. "Does it disappoint you that we won't get to face them directly this season? No chance for that marquee clash?"
Julien shook his head without hesitation.
"Not disappointed at all. Everyone has their own path to the summit. Look—Cristiano spent years being forged in the furnace at Old Trafford before becoming what he is now. Messi started as a substitute and worked his way up gradually. My trajectory is already accelerating faster than most, isn't it?"
He spoke with a calm certainty. "I'm already a guaranteed starter at Liverpool at this age. I'm already writing my own legend at Anfield, carving out my place in this club's history. I don't need to chase anyone's shadow or measure myself against their history. I know I'll become the best—it's just a matter of walking my own road steadily, climbing one step at a time until I reach the peak."
Dein's response came immediately with conviction ringing in his voice. "No—you're not going to be the best. You already are the best."
When he looked at Julien delivering those words with such serene confidence, without the slightest emotional fluctuation as if he were simply discussing what to have for dinner, Dein felt something shift inside him.
He thought to himself with genuine amazement, 'This kid is only eighteen years old.'
With that kind of mentality, that psychological makeup, how could he not become a superstar? It was practically inevitable.
The moment reminded Dein of Zinedine Zidane.
He'd read plenty of French media coverage lately, and Zidane consistently praised Julien in rosy terms whenever asked. Dein also knew that Zidane had even written a personal letter to Julien on his website, it was a public endorsement that spoke how deep was their relationship.
The bond between them ran deep.
Having someone like Zidane as a mentor and guiding influence gave Dein tremendous confidence in Julien's future development. With that kind of leadership, the kid wouldn't veer off course or lose himself in the chaos of fame and pressure.
The more time he spent around Julien, the more certain he became: this wasn't another Paul Gascoigne waiting to happen. Julien wouldn't squander excellent talent through self-destruction or poor decisions. The equivalence didn't fit.
Dein couldn't help but reflect on Julien's backstory. He knew it was perhaps inappropriate to think this way, but the thought arrived unconsciously: 'That prison sentence genuinely transformed Julien's character and mental fortitude.'
The two men talked for a while longer before finally departing the office together. Julien headed back to his room for an afternoon rest before training, while David Dein still had a mountain of work ahead of him from scouting reports to finalize, phone calls to make, contacts to cultivate.
As Julien watched Dein's retreating figure disappear down the corridor, his mind wandered to Arsenal's current league position.
They were sitting second in the Premier League table right now, their typical strong start to the season was fully intact.
Only Liverpool stood above them.
Wenger had once again secured a deadline day signing—that genius midfielder whose arrival had generated significant buzz. Moving from Real Madrid to Arsenal, that guy had registered an assist in his very first appearance.
Julien understood perfectly well how Arsenal supporters worldwide had reacted to the signing with euphoria. As the matches unfolded and the player's performances accumulated, they'd see him as the missing piece, the creative fulcrum they'd desperately needed.
He shook off the distraction.
After his afternoon nap, Julien followed his usual routine through training sessions. During one of the breaks, a small incident occurred that briefly pulled him from his focus.
A staff member approached carrying a bouquet of Star of Bethlehem flowers, the delicate white six-pointed blooms that were common throughout Europe, the Middle East, and Mediterranean coastlines but derived their name from a Biblical reference.
The flowers were genuinely rare in England, given their preference for full sunlight exposure and warmer climates.
"A fan absolutely begged me to give these to you," the staff member explained. "He said he hopes the flowers help you feel the warmth of home here at Liverpool."
Julien nodded in appreciation, feeling touched by the gesture.
The staff member added one more detail. "He told me his name is Erwin. He follows you on Twitter—his handle is 'Erwin Who Owns Cats.'"
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