Become A Football Legend

Chapter 353: The Greatest

Bernardo Silva sat with an ice pack around one ankle while explaining one of the transitions from the second half to Reijnders using exaggerated hand gestures.

Rodri looked exhausted but satisfied.

Haaland, meanwhile, kept replaying the missed header off the crossbar on a tablet while shaking his head dramatically every few seconds.

"I still don’t understand how I missed this," he muttered. freeweɓnovel.cѳm

"You hit the bar," Akanji replied. "You didn’t miss."

"That is missing."

"But you still got your goal in the end, though," Doku added.

Across the room, Lukas sat quietly at his locker, still processing everything.

His debut.

The comeback.

The goal.

The roar of the crowd after the ball hit the net.

It still didn’t fully feel real yet.

Then the dressing room door opened again.

Pep Lijnders stepped inside first.

"Relax, relax," he said immediately as a few players looked up. "Boss is bringing somebody."

That got reactions instantly.

"Who?" Doku asked.

"Another signing?" Bernardo joked.

Lijnders only smiled and leaned against the doorway.

The room buzzed with quiet speculation for another minute or two before the door opened once more.

Pep Guardiola walked in.

And behind him—

a short man stepped casually into the dressing room wearing light summer clothes suited for the Florida heat: beige shorts, an unbuttoned short-sleeve shirt over a plain white tee, sunglasses resting up on his forehead instead of over his eyes.

The room went silent almost instantly.

Every single player recognized him immediately.

And Lukas’ eyes widened slightly as the man walked fully into the center of the dressing room beside Pep.

The dressing room noise dipped noticeably the moment people realized who had walked in behind Guardiola.

Not everybody reacted the same way.

The older players mostly smiled and stood up casually, greeting him naturally like someone they had crossed paths with many times before. Bernardo Silva walked over first to shake his hand. Gündoğan followed right after, exchanging a few words in Spanish while Rodri laughed beside them.

But the younger players looked completely stunned.

Doku froze halfway through drinking water.

Savinho’s eyes widened instantly.

Even Cherki looked caught off guard for a moment.

And Lukas?

Lukas just stared.

Because no matter how many years passed, no matter how many stars football produced, some people still felt unreal standing in front of you.

Lionel Messi was one of them.

Messi greeted a few more players casually before Guardiola lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and pointed toward Lukas.

"There he is," Pep said in Spanish with a small smile.

Messi turned immediately toward the teenager standing near his locker.

For a second, Lukas genuinely forgot how to move.

Messi walked over calmly, relaxed, completely comfortable, like this was just another normal interaction for him.

Meanwhile Lukas could feel his own heartbeat hammering inside his chest.

Messi said something quietly in Spanish, and Rodri translated beside them almost immediately.

"He says he watched you," Rodri said. "He likes the way you play. He says to keep it up."

Lukas blinked once.

Then twice.

For probably the first time all day, he genuinely looked sixteen.

"Thank you," he said quickly. "Thank you so much. I grew up watching your game. It’s honestly crazy hearing something like that from you."

Messi smiled faintly while listening.

"I tried to model parts of my game after you growing up," Lukas admitted.

Messi responded again in Spanish.

Rodri translated.

"He says you should focus on being yourself. Don’t try too hard to imitate anybody."

Messi looked at him carefully for another second before continuing.

"He says if you keep playing naturally, you’ll go very far."

Lukas honestly did not know how to process that.

So he just nodded slowly.

"Thank you," he repeated again, quieter this time.

Then Messi said something else unexpectedly.

Rodri paused slightly before translating.

"He’s asking if he can have your shirt."

The entire area around them reacted instantly.

"Ay yo," Doku muttered loudly from nearby.

Bernardo laughed immediately.

Even Haaland turned around sharply.

Lukas looked genuinely stunned.

"My shirt?"

Messi nodded casually like it was the most normal request in the world.

Lukas almost fumbled pulling it off.

"No, of course," he said quickly. "Of course."

One of the staff members immediately handed him a marker, and Lukas signed the front of the shirt while still looking slightly dazed doing it.

To Leo. Thank you for everything.

—Lukas.

Messi looked down at the signature briefly before smiling again.

Then he spoke once more in Spanish.

Rodri translated with a grin this time.

"He says now he has to send you one of his too."

That almost broke Lukas’ brain entirely.

"A signed Messi shirt?" Rico Lewis shouted from the side. "Nahhh."

Messi laughed softly at the reactions around the room before folding the shirt neatly over his arm.

Savinho and a few of the Spanish-speaking players immediately drifted toward him afterward, talking excitedly as they slowly began walking toward the exit together. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Before leaving, Messi glanced back once toward Lukas and gave him one last nod.

Then he disappeared through the doorway.

The room slowly became noisy again afterward, but Lukas barely noticed any of it.

He was still standing there staring at the doorway with the expression of somebody who had just experienced something he knew he would remember for the rest of his life.

Pep watched him quietly from across the room before smirking slightly.

"It’s not everybody that can even imitate Messi a little," Guardiola said casually. "Even being able to do that is already a very good sign."

A few players laughed lightly at that.

But Lukas still barely heard them.

"LIONEL MESSI..."

* * *

The drive back to Miami was quiet.

Not silent—

just calm.

The kind of calm that came after a long day.

The city lights drifted past outside the tinted windows while soft music played low through the car speakers. Matteo was asleep already, curled sideways with his head resting on Antonella’s lap, one arm hanging loosely while she absentmindedly stroked his hair.

Messi sat beside them in the backseat, relaxed now after the match.

A cap rested low on his head, one arm stretched along the seat as he looked quietly out the window for a while.

Then Antonella glanced at him.

"So," she asked softly, careful not to wake Matteo, "what did you think of him after finally meeting him?"

Messi already knew who she meant.

He smiled faintly to himself before answering.

"It was nice," he said. "It’s always nice meeting young players coming through."

Antonella looked at him for another second.

"That’s not really an answer."

Messi laughed quietly through his nose.

Then he leaned back slightly.

"I don’t know," he admitted. "But the talent is there. The raw talent is very high."

He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"If he keeps working hard... if injuries stay away from him... if football treats him well..."

Another pause.

"Then I can see him becoming one of the best to ever do it."

Antonella turned her head slightly toward him after hearing that.

Because Lionel almost never spoke like that about players.

Especially not publicly.

Especially not about somebody so young.

She had watched enough football around him over the years to know when he truly liked a player.

And Lukas Brandt—

Messi genuinely liked watching him.

It had started months ago.

Back during the Europa League quarterfinal against Athletic Club at the San Mamés.