The box was silent.
"Mauro, when we were at Inter back then, you disappeared at the last mont and refused to play, putting us in a tough spot. Do you rember that?" Chiwo spoke.
Upon hearing that he might be ambushed, Icardi tried to stand up, but Chiwo's large hand held his shoulder tightly, leaving Icardi unable to move. He was sweating profusely, secretly anxious:
"Where did he get such strength? It turns out they're settling old scores, these three plus Chiwo are unhappy with . Seems like I'm definitely getting beaten up today!"
Tang Long, Ranocchia, and Bonazzoli remained silent.
The three exchanged glances among themselves, finally all eyes landed on Icardi.
Bonazzoli, being impulsive, slamd the table and stood up, glaring at Icardi, ready to throw a punch!
Previously at Inter, Gualin bullied Tang Long, and Bonazzoli, to repay Tang Long for teaching him soccer skills, snuck into Gualin's yard at midnight, stuffed cloth into his car's exhaust pipe, causing Gualin's car to stall and being late for training the next day, fined and angrily removed from the starting list for the next ga.
These were his tricks back then, but the current Bonazzoli is incomparable to the past.
After two years of experience in the Serie A and Premier League first teams, he hasn't secured a starting spot, but his ntality has grown a lot. He is no longer that kid who only plays tricks secretly, he dares to confront people face to face.
"Mauro, you disappeared at the last mont and refused to play back then, you betrayed us!"
Bonazzoli's fist was about to strike down, but Tang Long pulled him back, signaling him to sit down.
Closing the door to beat a dog, or beating a forr teammate, Tang Long felt this wasn't sothing Chiwo would do.
Especially since Chiwo still wore a faint smile, and his tone wasn't that tense.
Ranocchia, unsure of the situation, slightly frowned, lightly tapped his feet, moving his chair half a ter back, body relaxed, ready for any reaction.
Chiwo smiled, clearly, this was just a joke.
He took out a dal from his pocket, placed it in front of Icardi.
"Mauro, what do you see here?"
The 2010 Champions League championship dal.
"I rember, on your first day at Inter, you said your dream was to win the Champions League with Inter like . Then you asked , how can we win the Champions League? I told you one word, do you rember it?"
Icardi froze, his eyes fixated on the dazzling dal.
In his mind, he recalled that sumr of 2013, Milan city had Italy's most beautiful sunshine, lush green plants on window sills lining the streets, and the incessant noise of cicadas. He himself had transferred from Sampdoria to Inter, achieving a major leap from a diocre team to a grand club, and his entire family cheered for him.
…
After the joining ceremony, Argentine compatriot Milito invited the little brother to dinner and even called Chiwo over.
Indeed, Icardi and Chiwo were teammates at Inter for a year, and Chiwo announced his retirent the following year.
Milito advised his younger compatriot Icardi at the ti: "Mauro, you are strong as a striker, I've seen your highlights at Samp, your shooting desire is as intense as mine in my twenties."
"Why did I invite my good friend, defender Chiwo here today? I'm here to tell you that if a team wants to win, especially top championships like the Champions League, offense alone isn't enough. We need defense too, and individual effort isn't enough, we must rely on unity."
"During the Champions League final against Bayern, I scored two goals and enjoyed all the spotlights. But without Sneijder's assists, or Sane蒂, Samuel, Chiwo, Cesar tirelessly defending in the back, Robben would've crushed us, and I wouldn't be anything."
The younger Icardi, reigning supre at Samp, acted like a small pawn at Inter, only nodding, and listening to Milito's teachings, agreeing without hesitation, "Yes, yes, what you say is absolutely right."
Chiwo added nearby: "Unity, Mauro, unity is the best quality. Like Milito and Palacio, give your all for the blue and black."
This dinner clearly had profound aning.
Milito had heard about this younger brother's performance at Samp, especially his hat-trick against Juventus, gaining fa overnight, already having so reputation in Serie A at the ti. Inter spent 13 million euros to buy him, aiming to replace himself at 34 years old.
But after understanding, Milito found this kid indeed a promising forward, yet he had fatal shortcomings in his character - sotis being overly selfish for goals, placing personal interests above team interests.
This was sothing the older generation, these Inter veteran legends, couldn't accept.
…
"Look at you now, obviously, you didn't listen to what Milito and I said."
Chiwo let out a heavy sigh, slowly took back the Champions League dal, and sat down, staring at Icardi full of disappointnt and heartache.
"While at Inter, your mind was only on scoring goals and winning the European Golden Boot. With slight dissatisfaction, you blad teammates for not passing well enough. To achieve your goals, you completely fell out with the club, throwing tantrums and disappearing, ignoring everyone's calls. During that ti, because of you, the team was a ss. Did you ever consider everyone's feelings?"
Chiwo said, lightly shaking his head, the helplessness on his face was increasingly obvious.
"After coming to Manchester United, you played one good season, then showed your true colors. Fought with De Bruyne, brawling with Eevee on a plane, almost getting detained by the police. Look at what you've done? You're self-destructing your future!"
Chiwo's tone grew more intense, his body leaned forward slightly, as if wanting those words to slam into Icardi's heart.
"Last season, Van Gaal valued you so much, but now Pellegrini changed the tactics, you couldn't score, and could only leave here in disgrace, returning to Serie A."
Chiwo's voice suddenly beca severe, almost shouting, "You've been ruthlessly abandoned, Mauro! Have you ever thought, from the highest transfer fee in Manchester United's history to not being able to play, why all this happened?"
Upon hearing this, Icardi's eyes were already red.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say sothing but his throat seed choked by a huge stone, unable to make a sound.
"It was Wanda, Wanda made do it," Icardi regretted secretly, "I never desired to be this extre. Yes, why did I go this far? A day before refusing to play, I was still signing autographs and taking pictures with fans. I clearly love the blue and black, azza, and those dear fans who once cheered for ... why did I ruin it all!"
Icardi's eyes were filled with remorse, his hands subconsciously clutching his hair.
"Obviously Tang is the Premier League's best passer, I had just joined Manchester United, but to curry favor with De Bruyne, I posted on social dia being sarcastic to Tang, how utterly immature."
"And De Bruyne, he indeed gave countless good passes, but what did I do? Stupidly wronged him with Wanda… how could I treat him this way? My God, what have I done? I'm truly not a good person, I brought all this on myself!"
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