In a flash, Su Hang brought the fierce Roberto Carlos to the ground.
Short in stature but built like a tank, Roberto Carlos was all muscle and power. Yet under Su Hang's grip, he didn't last even a single round.
"Su! Let go of Roberto Carlos!"
Ronaldo and Samuel rushed in to break it up. But when Ronaldo had pulled Roberto Carlos earlier, he hadn't used nearly as much force.
With one shove of his left hand, Su Hang sent Ronaldo and Samuel sprawling.
That strength… it was something else.
Su Hang wasn't showing deference to anyone. He locked eyes on Roberto Carlos, his words deliberate and heavy.
"I said… stop! Do you agree?"
His right hand tightened. Carlos's face flushed red, then turned purple.
At first, Carlos resisted, defiant. But soon, panic flooded his eyes—he truly couldn't breathe.
Was Su Hang… going to kill him?
"Su!"
"Su, let go!"
"Su, don't do this!"
"Su Hang, calm down—don't act rashly!"
Shouts came from all around, but no one dared to step forward—Ronaldo and Samuel's fate moments earlier had been warning enough.
Zidane stayed silent.
He sensed Su Hang knew exactly what he was doing. And besides… maybe it was time for Real Madrid to set some rules.
The Brazilian clique dazzled on the pitch—competitive, stylish, beloved by fans. But their lifestyle and training habits were far too lax.
For the good of the team and their own careers, the Brazilian clique's influence needed to be contained.
At the very least, the bad habits had to be stopped.
Zidane understood this, but he knew it wasn't his role. He was just passing through.
This was something for the local group to handle.
Unfortunately, Raúl's kindness had dulled his edge. He had forgotten that true leadership demanded both steel and softness.
Blind compromise had brought them here.
Carlos tried everything—he wanted to beg for mercy, but no voice came, no air filled his lungs, no strength was left in his body.
All he could do was flick his eyes up and down, silently pleading for Su Hang to see that he was giving in.
Su Hang let go and rose to his feet.
Huff… cough, cough… gasp… cough…
Carlos sucked in air like a drowning man, curling on the turf, coughing and even gagging. He looked like he'd just survived a serious illness.
Su Hang turned toward Ronaldo and Samuel.
Both instinctively stepped back, wary of another strike.
"Sorry… I got carried away for a second," Su Hang said.
"It's fine, it's fine!" Ronaldo and Samuel replied quickly, tension thick in their voices. "Really, it's fine."
They'd seen plenty of scraps in their younger days—fights happened in football.
But someone like Su Hang? Never.
They could swear Su Hang had just been ready to kill Roberto Carlos.
Absolutely.
"Roberto Carlos."
Carlos flinched instinctively, bracing himself.
"Help him up," Su Hang told the others. "Carlos, I just want everyone to calm down."
"This is the training ground—a place for football. The least we can do is not throw punches here, right?"
Carlos nodded.
Su Hang looked at the group. "I'm sorry this happened, but I want it to stay here."
"I don't want to see anything in the papers about today. That would be devastating—for the team and for the fans."
"I'm not threatening anyone, but if something does leak, I will find out who it was."
"Reporters will tell me anything for the right price. You know how it works."
Heads nodded all around.
"Finally, whatever needs to be done will be done," Su Hang continued, holding the entire room in the palm of his hand. "On behalf of myself, I want to apologize to all of you again."
"I made you witness an ugly scene."
"No matter what, I was the one who raised my hands. That makes me responsible. I'll accept any punishment from the club—including suspension."
The cards were on the table now.
Su Hang admitted that he hadn't planned this speech at first—but as he talked, the idea came naturally.
With what had happened, training would end early.
Simon would have to report to Florentino personally.
For fairness, Raúl would go with him, filling in details and ensuring accuracy.
The players dispersed.
...
As Zidane drove past, he gave a short honk and gestured for Su Hang to hop in.
They drove in silence until they reached a reservoir.
Zidane stepped out and walked to the water's edge. Su Hang followed.
"Do you know Luxemburgo will be coaching Real Madrid after the winter window?" Zidane's first words were a bombshell.
It was news for more than a month from now. Zidane's sources were impeccable.
"Simon's a good man. He didn't deserve that," Su Hang said calmly—he had known it before Zidane did.
Zidane noted his composure. "If nothing changes, Real Madrid will bring in a lot of Brazilian players next season."
"Do you understand what that means? Simon won't last here! You've backed the wrong horse, kid!"
Su Hang smiled faintly. "There's no bet, Zizou. Simon angered Carlos because he changed the formation—for me."
"I can't let him down."
"I know the Brazilian clique will be a major force here, but that's not my concern. I just want to train with the first team. I don't even care about sitting on the bench."
Zidane shook his head. "It may not be your choice. Once Luxemburgo arrives, the Brazilian clique will be stronger—and whether it's Carlos or someone else, you'll be a target."
"You read people well—that much is clear."
"Now that you've been pulled into this whirlpool, there's no way out."
"Go see Raúl. It's time you joined the local group."
Beep-beep-beep!
Su Hang's phone rang—it was Guti.
Zidane's eyes narrowed. "Looks like Raúl is more impatient than I thought. He's been waiting for you a long time."
Su Hang frowned. "Why?"
"Because Raúl just wants to play football," Zidane said.
"And here's my advice: don't get lost in the team's factional fights."
"We're players. Our real competitive edge will always be our own ability."
"Ronaldo isn't the leader of the Brazilian clique, but its leaders still cater to him. He's not part of the local group either, yet Raúl still supports him."
"Aim to be the next Ronaldo—not another Roberto Carlos, and certainly not another Raúl."
--
(35 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser