The days after the press conference passed in a storm of noise. Newspapers, websites, and football talk shows in Germany could not stop talking about the twenty-eight-year-old from Wilhelmsburg who had taken over Hamburger SV. Some called him brave. Most called him foolish. In the Brandt family home, however, things felt strangely calm.
Niklas sat in his study with the curtains half-drawn. Jonas sat across from him on the leather sofa, legs stretched out. Erik had already left for a meeting in Frankfurt, but the two younger brothers stayed behind to talk business.
Outside, people still saw the Brandt family in different ways. Erik was the big success story; the brother who turned smart investments into real money. Jonas had his law degree and a small player agency that looked quiet from the outside. People whispered that it barely made any profit. Only a few knew Jonas had spent the last few years quietly building contacts across Europe and South America. He had people watching youth tournaments, talking to families, and collecting information on hundreds of young players.
As for Niklas, most outsiders still saw him as the quiet one who had spent years studying football instead of making "real" money. They did not understand that he had become the family's hidden strength.
Jonas leaned forward. "The agency is ready whenever you are. I have scouts in Brazil, Argentina, Scandinavia, and Eastern Europe. We've been helping some families with small support; nothing big, just enough to build trust. Like you told me years ago."
Niklas nodded slowly. "Good. We need players who will listen. Young ones that are hungry for success. I'm clearing out almost the entire first team. The old players won't accept me. So we build fresh."
Jonas smiled. "Remember that kid we've been watching in Norway? The tall striker. He's only seventeen. His family is struggling a bit. I helped them with some travel costs last year so he could keep training properly."
Niklas thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Not yet. He still needs time to develop. Don't push him to come here too early. If a bigger club shows interest, let him go. Your reputation as an agent matters more right now. One good move for a player can bring you ten more in the future."
Jonas laughed softly. "You always think three steps ahead."
Niklas stood up and walked to the window. "We have two months before the new season starts. I need a completely new coaching staff. Young coaches. People who won't fight me on every idea. People who still believe the game can change."
He turned back to Jonas. "I'm going to the Netherlands tomorrow. Ajax has some of the best young coaches in Europe. I want to bring a few of them here."
The next morning, Niklas flew to Amsterdam. He wore simple jeans and a dark jacket, nothing that would draw attention. He took a taxi straight to De Toekomst; Ajax's famous youth training center. The sun was warm, and the sound of whistles and shouting kids filled the air.
He stood at the edge of one of the training pitches and watched for a while. Boys aged twelve to eighteen moved with quick feet and sharp minds. Dutch football still looked beautiful; fast, technical, full of ideas.
After some time, Niklas spotted the coach he had come for. A tall young man with short hair was directing a group of under-19 players.
"Jansen!" Niklas called out.
The coach turned. When he saw Niklas, a big smile broke across his face. He jogged over, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Niklas Brandt," he said, laughing. "No hug, I'm soaked. What brings you to Amsterdam?"
They had met years earlier during one of Niklas's coaching courses. They had spent many late nights talking about tactics, pressing styles, and how football was changing. Back then Jansen was already working with Ajax's youth teams.
"You still stuck here as a youth coach?" Niklas asked.
Jansen shrugged with a tired smile. "Too many good coaches here. I'm twenty-four and still waiting for a real chance. Every day with these kids… I feel like I'm getting older while they stay young."
Niklas looked him straight in the eyes. "Come work with me. I want you as my assistant coach at Hamburger SV."
Jansen laughed at first, thinking it was a joke. Then he saw Niklas's serious face.
"Wait… you're not kidding?"
"I'm not," Niklas said. "I just took over HSV. We're in the second division. I cleared out the old coaching staff. I need people who think like me. Young. Hungry. Ready to build something new."
Jansen rubbed the back of his neck. "Assistant coach? At a club like HSV?"
Niklas nodded. "Base salary of four thousand euros a month to start. Annual contract. The club will provide housing and a car. We will grow together. If we do well, your salary will grow too."
Jansen stared at him for several seconds. A youth coach at Ajax earned far less. This offer felt like a dream.
"I'm in," he said quickly. "When do I start?"
"As soon as possible," Niklas replied. "But I need more than just you. Bring others. No one over twenty-six. I want a staff where everyone can speak freely. No old hierarchies. No one trying to act like the big boss because of age."
Jansen grinned. "I know exactly who to talk to. There are three or four guys here who feel the same way I do. They're good and hungry for success. They believe in modern football's high pressing, quick transitions, data, and everything you always talked about."
They walked along the side of the training pitches while Jansen pointed out different coaches working with various age groups. Niklas listened carefully and asked questions about each one. By the time they finished, Jansen had a shortlist of five young coaches he believed would join.
As the sun started to set, the two men sat on a bench near the entrance.
"You really believe you can turn HSV around?" Jansen asked quietly.
Niklas looked out at the green pitches. "I don't just believe it. I know it. The club is at the bottom. That's the best place to start. No pressure from big expectations. We will play a style nobody in the second division is ready for. And we will do it with young players who still have room to grow."
Jansen nodded slowly. "I'm tired of waiting for my chance here. If you're serious, I'm with you."
Niklas smiled and stood up. "Then pack your bags. Hamburg is waiting."
They shook hands firmly. As Niklas walked back toward the taxi, he felt a new energy. The playing squad would basically be an unpolished diamond. The coaching staff would be young and full of ideas. No old voices telling him the way things "have always been done."
Back in Hamburg that night, Niklas sat again in his study. Jonas had left some new scouting reports on the desk. Niklas opened them and started reading names of teenagers from all over Europe.
The summer transfer window had only just begun.
He had eighty million euros to spend wisely. He had a clear plan. And now he had the beginning of a coaching team that would follow his vision without question.