"My goal?"
Juninho smiled faintly, but then his expression turned serious as he asked, "Have you heard of the Annual Grand Slam?"
"Annual Grand Slam?"
Ibrahimović frowned, clearly deep in thought. After a few seconds, a look of disbelief crept across his face.
"You mean… winning every trophy available in a single year?"
It wasn't that Ibrahimović lacked intelligence—it was just that no one had seriously spoken of such a thing before. Not until Guardiola's Dream Team achieved the Sextuple did anyone even consider the possibility. Until then, it was the stuff of fantasy.
Who, after all, dared to dream of winning everything?
"Exactly," Juninho replied firmly. "Once we get promoted to the Premier League, we'll challenge for that achievement together."
Ibrahimović fell silent again.
He was ambitious—more than most. But even so, this idea sounded absurd. He was still evaluating Juninho, unsure whether the man truly had what it took.
But one thing was clear.
This man had ambition—real ambition. The same kind that burned in his own chest.
And men like that?
They were rare.
To stand before someone willing to voice such an outrageous dream—to risk ridicule and mockery in pursuit of greatness—was something that stirred Ibrahimović's spirit.
Only a fourth-division English team would dare say such a thing with a straight face.
But this wasn't just bluster. Juninho had already brought in Ronaldinho. That was no fluke.
"If Ronaldinho officially signs," Ibrahimović said after a long pause, "then I'll give it a shot."
He was willing to place his bet on Juninho. A boss with real vision was better than one who simply followed the crowd.
At least here, there was hope.
"Great!" Juninho couldn't hide his excitement. "Let's negotiate the contract now. Once Ronaldinho officially joins, we can sign everything at once."
He wasn't in a rush, mainly because Ibrahimović's agent—Mino Raiola—wasn't around.
Juninho had no desire to deal with that bloodsucker's ridiculous demands. Better to get ahead of it and lock Ibrahimović down early.
"Sure," Ibrahimović nodded. Then added, "I only care about the weekly wage and bonuses. The rest doesn't matter to me."
"Alright. €30,000 weekly salary. €20,000 goal bonus. €10,000 assist bonus. Five-year contract."
Juninho offered the exact same top-tier contract he had already prepared for Ronaldinho.
"How's that sound?"
Ibrahimović blinked, clearly surprised. He had expected maybe €20,000 per week—but €30,000?
This guy was serious.
"...Deal."
A grin broke across his face as he agreed.
Are all Brazilian people this rich? Ibrahimović wondered, bewildered but impressed.
"I look forward to our cooperation," Juninho said, standing and offering his hand.
"When I see Ronaldinho's transfer in the news," Ibrahimović replied, shaking it, "I'll sign right away."
Happy cooperation.
---
By the time Juninho saw Ibrahimović off, night was already falling and the sky had turned grey.
Just as he was about to go home and rest, Ryan appeared at the office door, looking like he'd sprinted the entire way.
"How did the negotiation go?" he asked breathlessly. "Anyone actually willing to join?"
"All of them," Juninho said calmly, with a small smile. "Get ready. When the summer window opens tomorrow, send the transfer payments immediately."
"...All of them?!"
Ryan nearly tripped over his own feet.
He had been hoping for one—just one—of the three stars to agree. That alone would've been a miracle.
But now?
All three were coming?
What the hell kind of magic was this new boss using?!
Juninho simply nodded.
"Alright! I'll prep the fax now!" Ryan gave a respectful bow and rushed out again, mind still spinning.
If Juninho hadn't insisted on becoming the manager, Ryan was convinced he'd be the best owner in the entire British football scene.
But…
With Messi, Ronaldinho, Ibrahimović, and Vidic joining Morecambe, did it even matter who managed the team?
As long as someone could keep egos in check, this squad was going places.
Let's just hope the players accept him as manager, or there could be trouble down the line.
Juninho didn't dwell on Ryan's concerns. He left the club and returned home for some much-needed rest.
Today had been monumental.
Messi. Ronaldinho. Ibrahimović. Vidic.
Every one of the core players he had targeted… secured!
All that remained now was to wait for the summer transfer window to open tomorrow and finalize everything.
And beyond that?
He'd have Ryan buy a group of League One and League Two-level talents to fill out the rest of the roster.
Then—finally—he could take this team to the training ground…
And start the first chapter of the Red Battleship's rise!
---