The morning after the Transfermarkt update felt like a global earthquake centered on two cities: London and Liverpool.
In Florence, Renzo's phone buzzed with a video call from Steven Gerrard. The Liverpool legend looked like he hadn't slept, his face a mix of awe and frustration.
"Forty million, Ren! Forty million!" Gerrard laughed, though it sounded strained. "You've been a pro for eight weeks and you're already worth more than most of the Premier League. If you were at Anfield right now, the fans wouldn't just be cheering—they'd be building a statue."
Renzo grinned. "Captain, if I come back now, does Rodgers even let me on the bus?"
Gerrard's expression darkened. "Rodgers is a dead man walking. The fans are at the gates with torches. But here's the real news: Jürgen Klopp is coming. He's seen your tapes. He told the board you are the 'engine' he needs for his Gegenpressing. You aren't just coming back to play, Ren. You're coming back to lead."
While Liverpool prepared for a new era, Tottenham was busy burning bridges. To appease the furious fans who realized the club had "gifted" a €40M superstar to a rival, Chairman Daniel Levy went nuclear.
The club didn't just fire Bill Vance; they publicly humiliated him. An official tweet showed Vance's cleared-out desk, "accidentally" revealing his home address on a shipping box. Within hours, the disgraced Youth Director was trapped in his house, surrounded by fans screaming "Parasite!" and "Talent Killer!"
When Vance tried to flee, he was met with the "London Greeting"—a swift beating that left him bruised on the pavement. With a multi-million euro lawsuit from Levy's lawyers looming, Vance wasn't just unemployed; he was headed for total bankruptcy.
At 11:00 AM in Liverpool, the "Klopp Era" officially began. Michael Edwards met the German at the airport, and by evening, the press conference was a frenzy.
"Renzo Uzumaki," Klopp said, his trademark grin widening when a reporter asked about the loanee. "He is a rare diamond. I do not understand how he was ever allowed to leave this building. Under my watch, we will build a platform where his genius can breathe. He is not just the future of Liverpool—he is the present."
Back in Italy, the 26th round of Serie A loomed. Fiorentina was hosting Torino.
Inside the visitors' locker room, Torino manager Giampiero Ventura was giving a "suicide mission" to his captain, Giuseppe Vives.
"Vives, listen to me," Ventura said, gripping the 35-year-old's shoulders. "You are our shield. Last week, I asked you to mark Paul Pogba, the most valuable player in the league. You got destroyed, but that's okay! Today is different."
Vives looked hopeful for a second. "Different how, Coach?"
"Today, you're marking the second most valuable player in the league: the 16-year-old kid worth €40 million."
Vives felt the blood drain from his face. His Transfermarkt value was €2.8 million. He was a veteran with bad knees being asked to chase a teenager who moved like a ghost.
Coach, Vives thought miserably, I'm a 35-year-old man with a mortgage. I'm not Patrick Vieira. Why are you doing this to me?
As the teams lined up in the tunnel, Vives looked over at Renzo. The kid looked calm, energized by the "Peak State" buff, and surrounded by banners that read "THE €40M MAN." Vives sighed, tightened his captain's armband, and prayed his hamstrings would last at least twenty minutes.
The whistle blew. The "Ghost of Florence" was about to show Torino why he was worth every cent of his new price tag.
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