Chapter 9: AC Milan Really Needs That Two Million!

Chapter 9: AC Milan Really Needs This Two Million!

By nine o’clock at night, the city of Milan had grown very quiet.

Li Mo pedaled his bicycle over the cobblestone streets of the old town, bathed in starlight as he headed home.

His brow furrowed slightly.

During this period, if he were to evaluate his training, he believed it was satisfactory.

His scoring ability on the frontline should at least be clear to the coaching staff.

Yet, despite two consecutive 0-1 losses, Li Mo hadn’t been given a single chance.

He couldn’t even make it into the matchday squad!

Li Mo couldn’t understand why.

But he had to consider his future.

With only two days left in the transfer window, maybe he needed an agent to help find a new club—although his current contract was professional, according to Serie A regulations, players under sixteen could only sign one-year deals.

The contract he held now had only one season remaining—once he turned seventeen, he could sign a real professional contract.

However, without any guarantee of playing time, Li Mo was unlikely to rashly sign a long-term deal.

He leaned his bicycle against the courtyard wall.

In the three-story house, only the living room light was on.

Hearing the sound, Martina came downstairs with concern, gently removing the backpack from her son’s shoulders and brushing the grass off his head.

“Sweetheart, the hot water’s ready. Go take a bath and get some rest.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Li Mo opened his arms and hugged his mother.

Watching his back as he headed inside, Martina could only shake her head.

She knew her son was striving hard for his dream.

Relaxing comfortably in the bathtub, Li Mo began to review what he had gained during this time.

After six months of training, although his footwork and ball sense were still not comparable to six months ago, at least they were no longer painful to watch.

In terms of speed, with the added muscle on his body, he was gradually regaining some of the feeling he’d had before.

His explosive power was increasing slowly, but it was indeed recovering—being 1.91 meters tall didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t be fast; the real issue was that the sudden growth spurt affected his center of gravity and stride frequency, and the relative loss in muscle proportion caused a decrease in explosiveness.

On the football pitch, explosive power within ten meters was even more important than a hundred-meter sprint, especially for a forward.

Sometimes, it’s the initial burst that matters most.

If your start is quick enough to seize a favorable position, it often determines life or death.

His fundamentals and explosiveness were gradually coming back.

Now, his two biggest problems were fitness and match experience.

Fitness could only be improved gradually through training; after all, Li Mo was a speed-type player, and his muscle composition meant he was not built for long-distance stamina, so he did not expect to become a fitness monster like Beckham.

It just needed to be sufficient.

As for match experience, that could only be gained by playing in games.

Yet, Allegri seemed blind to his performance on the training ground.

“I have to talk to Allegri!”

Li Mo took a deep breath.

With two days left in the transfer window, if Allegri couldn't promise him playing time, he would leave.

The next morning.

Allegri had just arrived at his office.

His seat barely warmed when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!”

Allegri called out, sitting in his chair.

As the door opened, he saw Li Mo, drenched in sweat and dressed in training gear.

A slight smile appeared on his face. “You’re here early for extra training again?”

“Yes, Coach,” Li Mo replied.

“You know my situation. I need to regain my explosiveness and touch on the ball quickly. Also, my fitness needs to get back up.”

Allegri nodded repeatedly, “It’s good that you’re aware of your shortcomings.”

“So, Li, what brings you here?”

In truth, Allegri already knew why Li Mo was here.

Li Mo’s answer was as expected: “Coach, I want a chance to play. I believe I’m ready.”

Upon hearing this, the corner of Allegri’s mouth curved into a faint smile.

He liked this straightforward style.

However, he would make no promises.

Because in his mind, Li Mo’s role this season was as a backup forward.

He would get some chances, but not many.

He would be eased into professional play.

After all, he was only seventeen.

More importantly, Allegri knew negotiations between AC Milan and Manchester City over Mario Balotelli’s transfer had reached the final stages.

If Balotelli joined, Milan’s frontline would be overcrowded.

At that time, Allegri would arrange for Li Mo to be loaned out during the winter transfer window.

He was the future of AC Milan, not the present.

So, Allegri leaned back slightly in his chair and smiled, “I think you’re rushing, Li. You’re only seventeen. There’s still much you need to learn.”

“Keep your current attitude, and you’ll get opportunities. Remember, you are the future of this team.”

Li Mo shook his head. “Coach, I don’t care about the future. I believe I already have the strength to play for the team now.”

Allegri frowned, “Li, I decide who plays. As the coach, I have my considerations.”

Disappointed, Li Mo returned to the training ground.

Allegri stood by the office window, watching Li Mo’s figure.

Most players had yet to arrive at the training ground.

And there was Li Mo, training alone, clutching the ball.

A player who worked this hard truly deserved a place on the team.

But Allegri hoped for a more mature forward.

If Li Mo knew Allegri’s idea of a “mature forward” was Mario Balotelli, he might have laughed out loud.

Inside the AC Milan general manager’s office, Galliani was troubled.

Manchester City was adamant about twenty million euros, refusing to budge.

Galliani was prepared to bite the bullet and splurge if City lowered the price to eighteen million.

After all, Ibrahimović’s departure had a huge impact on AC Milan.

They needed a player with Serie A experience who had also proven himself in another league.

But Manchester City thought AC Milan lacked sincerity in the deal.

Sincerity?

How much is sincerity worth?

Is it even a matter of sincerity?

“You AC Milan really just short of two million?”

Listen to the tone from the City staff.

Yes.

You have the money, you’re powerful.

But Galliani was ready to curse under his breath.

Because AC Milan really was short of those two million!

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(The End of This Chapter)