Three days later, Suker and Mandzukic returned to their dorm.
With the heating system in place, the whole house became warm.
Suker no longer had to bundle up in bed, shivering.
There was also news from the orphanage. The old dean was very gratified and even wanted the church to issue a letter of thanks to Suker, but Suker immediately stopped it.
Suker had grown up in the church orphanage, but he personally held no strong religious beliefs. More importantly, he knew that once he got entangled with the church—especially considering his growing reputation in Zagreb—it would become a hassle.
So, he stopped it outright.
After returning to the dorm, Suker immediately got back into training.
There were still three black cards he needed to absorb.
Especially [Lautaro's Heading]—this was currently a weak point for Suker.
While Suker had excellent footwork, his heading ability was poor—this was well-known.
It wasn't that he would completely miss the ball, but he lacked familiarity with effective headers in contested situations, especially in positioning and timing.
So he pulled Mandzukic over to help him practice headers.
Mandzukic took the training very seriously. Actually, he took all training seriously.
The guy was what you'd call a "hard-working fool."
He knew he wasn't naturally gifted, so he made up for it with more diligence than anyone else.
After just two days of training, Christmas arrived.
As one of the biggest holidays in Europe, the atmosphere was lively.
Suker and Mandzukic's dorm was also full of excitement.
"Off target! Off target!"
"Hang that star up there!"
Dujmović was standing on a ladder decorating the Christmas tree, while Srna directed him from below.
Modrić and Vukojević were bringing in bags of food.
Soon, the place was packed with more than ten people.
Aside from Suker's usual core group, players like Rakitić, Strinić, Jelavić, and Subašić also gathered together.
There were too many people to fit around the dining table.
So they laid plastic sheets across the living room floor and placed the food directly on top.
"One meal deducted!"Dujmović pointed at the feast of Chinese food in the middle and shouted at Suker.
Suker laughed, "Still four left!"
Dujmović immediately clutched his head in despair.
"The booze is here!!"
Vukojević returned, pushing a trolley.
It was loaded with cases of beer, red wine, vodka, soft drinks, and more.
Players are usually banned from drinking during league season, but it was the holidays—and Christmas at that—so it was time to relax.
"Give me a case of German beer!" Rakitić shouted boldly.
Suker smacked him on the head.
"You're only 17! No alcohol for you!"
Then Suker handed him a bottle of Coke and even inserted a straw for him.
Rakitić stared dumbfounded at the soda, then shouted in protest, "Why can you all drink but I can't?! I want to drink!"
"Wait till you're legal!" Modrić said.
Rakitić: "I turn 18 in three months! Come on, let me drink, please!"
Everyone laughed.
Srna waved dismissively, "Let him have it."
Suker shrugged, "Captain's orders—drink up."
"Yeahhh!!!"Rakitić cheered excitedly.
With tasty food on the floor and a beer in hand, Suker raised his bottle and rallied the group:
"Captain, say a few words."
Srna scratched his head, "You do it, I'm not good at speeches."
Suker nodded.
As everyone turned to him, Suker declared loudly:
"From July to now—six months—we've gone through match after match. Wins, draws, we've been through it all, and it's made us stronger."
"Let me just say this straight, no sugarcoating!"
"At the end of this season, many of us might go our separate ways. Who knows when we'll all be together again?"
Suker raised his bottle high."To the glorious season we're about to create—and to each of our brilliant futures!"
"Cheers!!!"
Everyone lifted their drinks and shouted:
"Cheers!"
"Merry Christmas!"
"To our future!"
"Let's go, boys!"
"Chug it!" Suker widened his eyes. "Let's see who's got guts!"
Everyone threw their heads back and started chugging.
With the alcohol kicking in, the atmosphere grew even more festive.
The group chatted and drank.
Srna and Dujmović went back to messing with their old gaming console.
Suker sat with Modrić.
"The next Champions League knockout match won't be easy," Modrić said.
Suker nodded. "Man United is tough, but not unbeatable."
Right now, United's squad was aging and relying heavily on Ferguson's leadership.
It wasn't until Cristiano Ronaldo was made the core of their attack that the team truly began to revive.
Currently, Ferguson hadn't reshaped the locker room yet.
So Suker didn't think it was a hopeless matchup.
Modrić asked, "Has Zorancic talked to you about transfers?"
Suker nodded.
Modrić said, "I'm not going to Milan."
Suker looked at him.
Modrić explained, "It's not that I don't want to play with you. I just don't want to rely on you. That won't help me grow."
"And Milan has Pirlo. They don't really need me. It's not a good fit."
Suker nodded. Modrić had a point.
Putting him up against Pirlo at this stage would be a tall order.
"What's your plan then?"
Modrić replied, "Premier League or La Liga. I want to go somewhere I can really develop."
"You want to be the core of the team?"
"Yes. Playing for a big club is tempting, but I need minutes and support. I need room to grow."
Suker and Modrić were different.
With the system, Suker could still grow even sitting on the bench.
But Modrić needed match time.
That's why he was avoiding the top clubs—because at a big club, playing time wasn't guaranteed.
"What if a big club promised to groom you and make you their future core?"
Modrić laughed, "That would be perfect!"
Suker patted his shoulder.
"Then in the next match, give that old Scot a show he won't forget."
Modrić paused.
Suker continued, "Man United's midfield is aging—Giggs, Keane... how much longer can they go? Ferguson is definitely looking for a new midfield leader."
Suker counted on his fingers.
"Big club. Core. Ferguson. It's all there."
"This…" Modrić blinked.
Suker exhaled."You think too much. You're not avoiding big clubs—you're afraid to fail. But opportunities are earned. You've got the talent. Why settle for less? Big clubs are your true home."
"Think about it."
Modrić fell silent, clearly deep in thought.
At that moment, Dujmović and Srna came back to the table.
"Let's drink!"
Dujmović had just lost a video game and was ready to blow off some steam.
"I'm gonna drink you under the table tonight!" he said, pointing at Suker.
Suker raised an eyebrow and popped a cashew into his mouth.
Getting bold now?
The others egged them on.
"Drink-off!"
"Drink-off!"
Dujmović puffed up even more.
"Let me show you what a drinking god looks like. When I was 18 playing for Hrvatski Dragovoljac, I drank the whole first team under the table!"
Ooooohhhh~~Everyone hyped him up.
As the cheers grew, Dujmović began to lose himself.
Suker calmly picked up a bottle of beer.
"How are we doing this?"
"Bottle for bottle until one of us taps out?" Dujmović raised an eyebrow. "You dare?"
Suker knew backing down would only encourage him.
Suker shouted, "Bring it on!"
Whoa~~~!!!!Everyone watching cheered.
They started downing bottle after bottle.
Suker was going all out.
This time, he would teach Dujmović a lesson.
As long as he could last 45 minutes, he'd turn the tables.
Bottle after bottle went down.
After 20 minutes, Suker was bloated.
"Switch to red wine!"
Suker waved his hand.
Dujmović boldly agreed.
At the 45-minute mark, Suker was recharged.
His eyes were bright and clear.
Meanwhile, Dujmović looked dazed and bleary.
Suker picked up a bottle of vodka.
"Let's keep going."
The next day, Dujmović woke up with a pounding headache.
His stomach was in turmoil.
The whole house reeked of alcohol.
He dragged himself to the bathroom and puked everything up.
His memory was fuzzy.
He remembered drinking with Suker, but the rest was a blur.
As he came out, he saw someone enter the room.
"You're up?"
Suker was dressed in workout clothes, lightly sweating—clearly just back from a run.
"You—you went running?!"
Dujmović couldn't believe it.
He could hold his liquor well.
With a hangover like this, Suker should be just as bad.
But the guy went out for a run?!
"Is there a problem?" Suker shrugged, then took out his phone. "By the way, don't order so much food next time. We couldn't finish it. Also, you owe me nine meals."
"Nine?!?" Dujmović shouted. "It was four!"
Suker took out his phone and played a video.
In the grainy clip, Dujmović was swaying with a bottle in hand, shouting:
"If... I can't out-drink Suker... I'll owe him five more meals!"
Dujmović's jaw dropped.
Click!Suker closed the flip phone.
"Nine."
Dujmović looked ready to cry.
How would he ever pay this off?!