"What part are you worried about?"

Hojlund looked at his beer for a moment before answering. "The price tag. Seventy million. Every goal I don’t score, every match where I’m not the best player on the pitch, people will say they overpaid. The pressure’s different when you cost that much. It’s not just about performing well—it’s about justifying the investment every single week."

Demien understood that because his own transfer speculation carried similar weight even if the numbers being discussed were slightly lower, and the difference between proving yourself as a nineteen-year-old prospect versus proving yourself as a seventy-million-euro striker was scope rather than substance.

"You’ll handle it," Demien said, and the statement was factual rather than reassuring because Hojlund’s goal-scoring record at Atalanta had shown he could finish under pressure. "First goal at Old Trafford, the price tag stops mattering. Just takes one."

"Yeah." Hojlund took a drink and then set his beer down and leaned slightly forward across the table. "You should come to United too."

The statement landed in the quiet between them and Demien’s expression didn’t change while his mind processed what Hojlund had just said, and the directness was typical of the Danish striker who’d never been particularly subtle about his opinions.

"I heard the rumors," Hojlund continued, and his voice stayed low enough that the others at the table weren’t hearing this conversation. "I know they want you. Ten Hag’s building something real and we’d play together in midfield. Same age, both coming from Serie A, we could grow into that team together instead of you doing it alone."

Demien picked up his water glass and took a drink before responding, and the pause gave him time to decide how much of this conversation was happening versus how much was staying private. "There’s always rumors."

"I’m serious," Hojlund pressed, and the buzz from two beers was making him more forward than he might have been sober. "United needs midfielders who can actually play. You’d start matches, not sit on the bench waiting for your chance in year two. We’re nineteen and twenty—we should be playing now, not developing patiently while other players take our positions."

The pitch was honest and came from genuine belief rather than recruiting tactics, and Demien could see that Hojlund actually wanted this rather than just suggesting it casually.

Luca had caught the tail end of the conversation from across the table and his eyes met Demien’s briefly with the kind of look that asked whether intervention was needed, and Demien shook his head slightly to indicate it was fine.

"I appreciate that," Demien said, and he kept his tone neutral rather than dismissive. "United’s a good club, Ten Hag’s a good manager, what you’re saying makes sense. But I’ve got meetings scheduled with three clubs and I need to hear all of them before I decide anything. That’s just how it has to work."

Hojlund studied him for a moment before nodding and leaning back in his chair. "Fair enough. But I’m telling you—United’s the right move. Premier League, Old Trafford, playing with me up top while you’re feeding me passes from midfield. We’d be scary."

The confidence wasn’t arrogance because Hojlund backed it up with production, and Demien smiled slightly before Luca redirected the conversation to Denmark’s upcoming friendly schedule and the moment passed without becoming awkward.

The night continued for another ninety minutes—more drinks, more conversation, inevitable jokes about Scalvini’s apartment obsession and Ruggeri’s questionable taste in music—and by eleven-thirty the group was breaking up because Friday night was still Friday night during pre-season which meant recovery mattered and tomorrow brought either training or travel depending on individual schedules.

Hojlund hugged each of them before they left and the goodbye was genuine because he’d been a good teammate for two seasons and transitions always carried weight even when they were positive, and when Demien and Luca walked back toward where they’d parked the car the Città Alta was still full of people but the energy had shifted to the late-night rhythm that belonged to tourists and locals who didn’t have nine AM commitments.

"He’s not wrong about United," Luca said when they were halfway down the hill toward the lower town, and his tone was conversational rather than advisory. "Playing with someone you know, same age, both adapting together. That’s easier than doing it alone."

"I know he’s not wrong," Demien said. "But that can’t be the reason I choose. It has to be bigger than just having a friend there."

"Agreed. But it’s not a bad factor to consider when everything else is equal."

They reached the car and drove back to the apartment in comfortable silence while Bergamo’s Friday night moved around them, and by midnight they were both in bed with alarms set for seven-thirty because Saturday meant Chelsea meeting at two PM and the final piece of information needed before decision-making could actually begin.

Transfer speculation had been background noise for six weeks, and after tomorrow it would shift from speculation to deliberation, and somewhere in the next two weeks Demien would choose which red shirt he’d be wearing next season.

Friday Afternoon 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Centro Bortolotti Training Complex

Media Room

2:47 PM

The media room was smaller than the main press conference facility and was used for internal club content rather than external journalism, and when Demien arrived at two-forty-five the camera was already positioned on a tripod with lights set up on either side and Atalanta’s communications director—a woman named Carla who’d been with the club for six years—was reviewing notes on her tablet.

"Demien, thanks for making time," Carla said when he walked in, and she gestured toward the chair positioned in front of the Atalanta backdrop that showed the club crest repeated across blue and black fabric. "Standard pre-season interview for our website and social channels. Twenty minutes maximum, nothing controversial, just the usual questions about fitness and team goals and personal development. You’ve done these before so you know the rhythm."

Demien sat in the designated chair and the camera operator—a young guy named Marco who worked for Atalanta’s media department—adjusted the lens angle and checked the lighting while Carla moved to stand beside the camera where she’d be asking questions off-screen.

"Ready when you are," Marco said, and the red recording light activated above the lens.

Carla started with the easy questions because internal club content didn’t require hard journalism, and the format was designed to give fans positive updates rather than generate headlines.

"How’s the body feeling after the first week of pre-season training?"

Demien kept his answer professional and brief. "Good. Gasperini’s pushed us hard like he always does at the start of pre-season, but that’s what we need after three weeks away from this intensity. Bodies are remembering what sustained effort feels like and by next week we’ll be ready to add tactical complexity to the physical base we’re building now."

"Team goals for the upcoming season?"

"European qualification again, deeper run in Coppa Italia than last season, and competing for a top-four finish in Serie A. Champions League football at Gewiss Stadium is the standard we’ve set and we want to maintain that."

"Areas you’re personally focused on improving this season?"

"Goal contributions from midfield. I want to add more goals to my game, continue improving my defensive work rate, and be more consistent across ninety minutes rather than having good stretches and quiet stretches within the same match."

The questions continued in the same vein—comfortable, predictable, designed to produce content that could be edited into two-minute highlight packages for Instagram and Twitter rather than extended tactical analysis—and by the time Carla asked the final question about what he’d done during the summer break Demien had been sitting in the chair for eighteen minutes and the rhythm was winding down naturally.

"Last question," Carla said. "Pre-season friendlies start next week. What are you most looking forward to about getting back to actual matches?"

"Competition," Demien said, and the answer was honest rather than promotional. "Training sessions are important for building fitness and tactical understanding, but matches are where you test whether the work you’ve done actually translates under pressure. First friendly next week against local opposition, then we build toward the season opener. That progression toward real competition is what pre-season is about."

"Perfect," Carla said, and she signaled to Marco that recording could stop. "That’s everything we need. Thanks Demien, you’re free to go."

The red light above the camera went dark and Demien stood while Marco started breaking down the equipment, and the blue text appeared in his peripheral vision as he walked toward the door.

「TRAINING WEEK COMPLETE」

「Total Sessions: 5」

「Session Breakdown: 2 fitness conditioning, 2 technical work, 1 practice match」

「Total TP Earned: 50 TP (10 TP × 5 sessions)」

「CURRENT BALANCE: 405 TP | 18 SP | 463 MP」

「NEXT TRAINING WEEK: Monday July 3 - Friday July 7」

「FIRST FRIENDLY MATCH: Saturday July 8 vs Local Serie C Opposition」

「MISSION ACTIVATION: Match missions resume with friendly competition」

The panel held for three seconds before fading, and Demien walked out of the media room into the corridor where late afternoon sunlight came through the windows and Centro Bortolotti was quiet because most players had already finished their Friday sessions and left for the weekend.

First week of pre-season complete. Nike obligations handled. Hojlund’s farewell done properly. Chelsea meeting scheduled for tomorrow afternoon in Milan.

Transfer decision still unresolved but the information-gathering phase was nearly complete, and after Chelsea made their pitch on Saturday he’d have heard all three clubs and understood what each offered beyond contract terms and wage figures.

The football rhythm was re-establishing itself regardless of transfer speculation, and next week would bring tactical sessions and positioning drills, and the week after that would bring the first friendly match where system missions would activate and rewards would start accumulating again through actual competition rather than just training simulation.

Everything was moving forward in the way it needed to move forward, and the choice between Liverpool’s patient development, United’s immediate opportunity, and Chelsea’s young squad project would reveal itself after Saturday when complete information replaced speculation.

For now pre-season was progressing properly and his body felt sharp and the apartment was waiting in Bergamo where Luca would probably be watching football on television and the weekend would pass in the same quiet comfortable rhythm that weekends passed when the work was done correctly.