No surprises!

  The m, there was a fremosphere of schadenfreude in the major Italian neers.

  All the neers, big and small, were celebrating as if it were a festival.

  They almost shouted in unison: "We are all fans of Inter Min tonight!"

  Napoli had lost!

  3-0, a crushi that filled the ealian football world with excitement, as if they were celebrating more than just a match. The joy felt morbid, as if everyone had been waiting for this moment.

  In Sacchi's n, he expihat Gao Shen had brought so much excitement and disfort to Italian football in such a short period of time that the rea now was a symptom of pent-up frustration. It was as if the loss had allowed Italian football to recim its superiority, albeit momentarily.

  Almost all the neers were gloating. They praised Inter Min endlessly, treating Mani like a hero who had restored the pride of Italian football. He had beaten Gao Shen, and more importantly, he had do by stig to the traditional Italian style of football.

  This victory, to them, roof that Italian football was not outdated. It was still strong, still relevant.

  Many eveed that this Inter Min squad was fully capable of winning the Champions League this season!

  Indeed, Inter's squad was formidable, with a blend of power, tactical rigidity, and talent that made them a strong tender on all fronts.

  At the post-match press ference, Gao Shen had admitted his defeat, and the media spun it as him being humbled, though many of his subsequent remarks were seen as defiance. His tinued ambition to challehe Serie A title was viewed as delusional.

  Turin Sports Daily even ran a bold headline: He's Dreaming!

  Gazzetta dello Sport shared a simir opinion, mog Gao Shen's ambitions. The paper reminded everyohat no newly-promoted team had ever won the Serie A title. The most miraculous story i history was Chievo's rise in the 2001-2002 season under Del Neri, where they mao finish fifth. Even that was seen as the absolute limit for a newly-promoted side.

  Iingly, Simota, who was suspended from Roma due to a yellow card, had been part of that Chievo team. It was an example of the best a newly-promoted club could achieve in Italy's eyes.

  Gao Shen's ambitions, acc to the media, were unattainable. No one expected Napoli to break the mold. Besides, with Juventus returning to Serie A, many believed they would have a better ce of challenging the top than Napoli, with their vastly superior squad and resources.

  A 0-3 loss to Inter had exposed Napoli's vulnerabilities. The media was quick to pounce, beling the team as a o wonder, with fans and critics alike eager to watch the "fall" of Napoli.

  Even the few local papers that tried to defend Napoli, along with voices like Sacchi, were drowned out by the louder, more critiarrative.

  "It's really too biased!" Guardio ented, putting down a neer with a sigh. They had lost to Inter Min, yes, but was that such a disgrace?

  As a newly-promoted Serie B team, Napoli had already made it to the semi-finals of the Coppa Italia, thrashing Roma 6-0, Juventus 5-0, and Parma 4-0 in the earlier rounds. Was that not impressive enough?

  "There's no such thing as true objectivity in this world," Zidane added. "Journalists write these reports, and they're human too. Wherever their is lie, that's who they'll write for. That's their idea of objectivity."

  Everyoared at Zidane, surprised at his insight.

  "When did you bee so philosophical?" someone asked.

  Zidane chuckled. "It's not me. Gao Shen said this when we were at Real Madrid."

  Everyone sighed with relief of course, it was Gao Shen. Somehow, his words made perfect sense now.

  Guardio, Zidane, and the others tio discuss the loss to Inter. It wasn't a reason to panic, they agreed. It was a tough match, and Inter Min were formidable oppos. But something about Gao Shen's ess siurning from Min was making them uneasy.

  Guardio had observed Gao Shen closely sihey returned from the match. He didn't seem upset, at least not outwardly. Instead, Gao Shen had spent time pying World of Warcraft for a while, made a few dishes for his friends, took a shower, ao bed.

  This unusual ess after such a heavy defeat was uling.

  "It's too normal," Lucas remarked. "And the more normal it seems, the more abnormal it is."

  The others nodded in agreement. It was too much like the calm before a storm.

  "You don't think he's bottling things up, do you?" Bueura asked, worried. "He might implode if he doesn't let it out."

  Lucas had an idea. "What if we take him out tonight? To a bar? Let him blow off some steam."

  "Bars won't do. Take him to a nightclub. He needs a real distra a proper ival." Zidane grinned.

  Carlo, ever the practical one, chimed in. "Fernando, you have es, don't you? Get some pretty Neapolitan girls to join us. He's been single for too long. Maybe that'll lift his spirits."

  Everyone agreed. If one girl didn't solve the problem, two or more surely would.

  Lucas, always ready to lend a hand, jumped in with both feet. "I'll make the arras. I'm telling you, once wets out that Gao Shen is going to a nightclub, the girls will be lining up. Some might even fly in from abroad. He'll have his pick."

  Everyone ughed. It was true. Gao Shen was a rising star in European football. Being associated with him would make any woman an ht sensation in the media.

  Rubbing his hands together, Lucas added, "With enough choices, I'm sure we find ohat suits him."

  "Excuse me," Lopis, the goalkeeper coach, interrupted. "Are we his coag staff or his...es?"

  The room erupted in ughter.

  ---

  "Cough, cough!"

  Gao Shen walked into the office, curious as to why everyone had gathered together. "What are you all up to?"

  The group scattered like guilty children caught red-handed.

  "Nothing! We were just pining about these biased neers," Lucas quickly covered.

  Gao Shen seemed satisfied with the response and began handing out dots to the staff.

  "Lorenzo, this is the training pn for the few months. I want us in peak dition for Serie A season, so I need a detailed program from you. Let's get it done before this season ends."

  Bueura raised an eyebrow as he sed through the dot. This is intense, he thought. Gao Shen's demands were exceptionally high.

  "This one's for you, Fernando." Gao Shen handed Lucas another set of instrus.

  Carlo, Borrell, Lopis, and Guardio all received their own tasks.

  It was clear Gao Shen wasn't wasting time wallowing i. He was already looking ahead, anizing his staff, aing new goals.

  "I want this team to be sharpeo its full potential by the end of this season. Wheep into Serie A, we'll be in the best possible shape."

  Everyone exged gnces, realizing just how serious Gao Shen was.

  Being a dark horse wasn't just a fluke. Fao Shen, it was a serious mission.

  Turning to Zidane, Gao Shen grinned mischievously. "Zinedine, how about a little bet?"

  "What kind of bet?" Zidane asked, intrigued.

  "I'm aiming for the Serie A title season. If I win, you go a your coag lise. After that, you e join my staff as my assistant. You're too good at training pyers to let that talent go to waste."

  Zidane frowhis was a big ask.

  "And what happens if you lose?" Zidane asked.

  "If I lose, I'll stop making Zidane run around naked in World of Warcraft."

  "No, delete him pletely," Zidane tered, referring to Gao Shen's World of Warcraft character.

  "Deal!" Gao Shen smiled and turo leave, heading toward the pyers' lounge.

  He had a new mission now to push every one of his pyers to the limit. For the five months, they would endure a grueling regimen, and by the end of it, Napoli would be strohan ever.

  But first, he had to win the Serie B title.

  There was no other option.