Football Dynasty-Chapter 581: Welcome to hell, guys + Serie A Club’s Deep Pockets

The chapter order is supposed to be like this:

579 – Before the Tours and Alex Ferguson's Knighthood

580 – Welcome to Hell, Guys

581 – Parma Spend Money

Webnovel couldn't do anything about the error in Chapter 580, but they recommended that I include the misplaced chapter in this chapter. So, I will write Chapter 580 first and then include Chapter 581 in the same update, making it a longer chapter (around 3,000 words).

If you have already read "Welcome to Hell, Guys," you can simply scroll past it. Sorry for the inconvenience, and thank you very much.

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580. Welcome to hell, guys

The first team, except for those playing in the Copa América gathered at Trigoria, their bags packed and full of fighting spirit. The training camp, as per Pintus' request and as Mourinho had already mentioned, would be a devilish experience. The goal of regaining their fitness in two weeks had been clearly explained.

The players boarded the team bus, the younger ones chatting excitedly, while others simply sat back in their seats, mentally preparing themselves for the tough days ahead.

Richard also followed with a group of kids. He sat near Mourinho, alongside Baltazar Brito and Pintus, reviewing the itinerary for the camp.

Val Pusteria, in the Italian Alps, was the perfect location—high altitude, fresh air, and, most importantly, isolation from distractions. This place had been deliberately chosen by Pintus, probably the only thing they had done right. After all, for such an intense training regimen, it was better for the location to be secluded yet conducive to relaxation.

As the bus pulled away from Trigoria, Richard turned his gaze to the players. He really wanted to take a photo of them before and after the training, and at the same time he was curious to test his new Nikon D1, one of the first professional digital SLRs.

CLICK~

As he clicked the shutter, capturing the team before the grueling days ahead, a quiet energy settled over the bus.

Most of the senior players either slept or stared out the window, lost in thought. The youth were more enthusiastic, as most of them glanced at the camera, gave a thumbs-up, or chatted with each other.

Richard was satisfied with the picture. It would not only serve as a good souvenir but also remind them of the hard work they had put in. If they succeeded in the next season, it would prove that no effort had been in vain.

Antonio Pintus, who was reviewing the plan for the camp and was always very observant, noticed that something was on Mourinho's mind and thought he was still smirking vaguely. He nudged him.

"What's wrong?"

"Think they'll last the first week?" he asked with a smirk, lightening the atmosphere.

Pintus chuckled. "They have to. No excuses. If they break now, they'll break when it matters."

The journey took several hours, with occasional stops to stretch and refuel. By the time they arrived, the sun was beginning to set behind the mountains. The sight was breathtaking. Even Richard, who was not particularly fond of the wild, had to admit it was an ideal place for relaxation. Unfortunately, they were here for work.

Mourinho turned to Pintus. "Let's get them settled in. We start early tomorrow."

The other party nodded, clapping his hands together. "Alright, guys! Get your room assignments, drop your bags, and meet back outside in twenty minutes. We're going for a light jog before dinner."

The players didn't put up much resistance. It wasn't too much to ask for some stretching after such a long bus ride, especially before dinner.

With Aurélio Pereira as the Youth and Reserves coach, assisted by Villas-Boas, Richard entrusted the kids he had brought to them so they could experience the training firsthand.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of them."

Richard nodded as he patted Villas-Boas on the shoulder.

"What about the thing I asked you, by the way?"

Richard could already tell that once the Copa América final between Uruguay and Brazil ended tomorrow, Manchester City office would receive a large number of inquiries about their players. Only a few had already been tagged as "not for sale," and Richard wasn't too worried about them. For example, Ronaldo and Ronaldinho. They would join later, and Richard didn't want to force the schedule too much. Mourinho also agreed and even gave them three extra days off after the final.

"Don't worry, boss, I've got you." Villas-Boas then took the documents he had prepared.

"Based on the Prozone scout prototype developed by Ramm, and filtered to players who wouldn't have much difficulty obtaining a work permit, I've compiled several strikers who would fit well with the current Manchester City squad. I've already sent this to José as well. Take a look at this."

Richard nodded before looking at the data.

1. 18-year-old Dimitar Berbatov — 77 goals in 92 appearances for the reserve team. Won the Bulgarian Cup with CSKA in his debut season.

2. Christian Vieri — whom Richard failed to sign last season, later moved to Lazio from Atlético Madrid. This season, he partnered Chilean international Marcelo Salas, scoring 14 goals in 28 appearances and winning the Cup Winners' Cup.

3. Ruud van Nistelrooy of PSV Eindhoven, in outstanding form, scoring 31 goals in 34 matches.

4. Fernando Torres of Atlético Madrid, who dominated at youth level, leading the U-15 team in the Nike Cup and becoming the best player in Europe for his age group.

5. Luca Toni, from Serie A Lodigiani, who scored 15 in his 31 appearance.

Richard was confused.

"Torres? Why include a 16-year-old in the scout list for the first team?"

Villas-Boas coughed. "Well, it's just a preference, nothing more. But I think Fernando could develop much further."

Most of the names on the list were well-known prospects who were expected to become stars in the future. But just by looking at them, Richard already knew that only Vieri truly fit Mourinho's system.

Richard actually wanted to bring in Berbatov as well, definitely. However, remembering how Berbatov played, he thought that City didn't need a player like him right now. It wasn't that he was a bad player—far from it—but his style didn't suit what they needed.

He definitely didn't want to follow the same path as Manchester United, who signed him because they were looking to replace Carlos Tevez. Berbatov was more about ball possession, first touch, and elegance while Tevez was aggressive, relentless, and almost feral in his pressing and movement. Manchester City needed someone that ruthless to lead the counterattacks that fit Mourinho's system.

"Alright then, I've received your scouting report. Good job," Richard nodded before putting the list of names into his pocket.

Twenty minutes later, the team reassembled near the entrance of the training facility. Dressed in light training gear, they formed a loose semi-circle around Mourinho, who stood with his hands behind his back.

"This isn't Manchester," he began. "The air is thinner, the terrain is tougher, and by the time we leave, you'll either be stronger than you've ever been… or you'll wish you never came. Your choice."

A few chuckles escaped, but most of senior players remained silent, their eyes locked on him. Those who had been professionals for a long time knew that this wasn't a joke and that anything could happen.

"Now, just a light jog. Loosen up, get a feel for the altitude, eat dinner. Tomorrow? The real work begins."

With that, all the coaching staff set off at a steady pace, leading them along a winding trail that curved around the base of the mountains. After all, most of them himself wasn't that old, and it was normal for him to exercise his body. The players followed, some chatting quietly, others already focused on conserving their energy.

By the time they returned to the facility, the players were winded but not exhausted—a good sign. Henry clapped his hands together. "Good start. Shower, eat, and rest. Tomorrow at 5 AM, we begin for real."

The next morning, before the sun even had a chance to rise over the peaks of Val Pusteria, the sound of alarms rang through the players' rooms. It had been deliberately arranged by the staff. Screams of anger could be heard echoing through Val Pusteria.

Even the coaching staff were not spared; even Mourinho, had he not been the head coach, would have preferred to keep sleeping.

The freshness of the morning was truly invigorating. By 5:00 AM exactly, the team was gathered outside, dressed in full training gear.

None of the players looked pleased; they seemed ready to explode at the slightest provocation.

Mourinho and Pintus stood in front of them. Mourinho was checking his watch, while Pintus scanned the group with a knowing look that seemed to say, 'I can feel your suffering.'

He then clapped his hands together. "Alright, warm-up. Five laps around the facility, dynamic stretches, and then we move to the real work."

The players complied, jogging off into the cold morning air. Some tried to shake off the drowsiness, while others embraced the discomfort, knowing what was coming.

Mourinho and Pintus watched in silence, evaluating them as the morning at Val Pusteria unfolded.

After the warm-up, they led them to a nearby clearing, where cones were already set up.

"Listen up," Pintus said, his voice cutting through the morning fog. "We'll start with endurance. Five kilometers through uneven terrain."

"Uphill, downhill, no breaks. You'll run as a team, pace yourselves. If someone falls behind, you help them. No man left behind. Understood?"

In this kind of situation, even if someone had the idea of slacking off, they wouldn't. It would not only embarrass them, as they would need the help of their teammates, but those teammates would also look down on them, as if to say they couldn't do what the others could.

The players nodded reluctantly to Pintus's words. Starting with 5 km—this was really hell.

The terrain ahead was no joke, and the altitude would make every step more difficult than a normal 5 km. But they knew this was part of the process. After all, on this path to success, they had endured even greater difficulties.

The assistant, Baltemar Brito blew the whistle, and the team set off in a tight group, their footsteps loud against the gravel path. The first kilometer was relatively flat, allowing them to find their rhythm.

But soon, the trail began to climb, and the air grew thinner. Breathing became harder, and the chatter from the previous day's jog was replaced by heavy breaths and the occasional grunt of effort.

Richard woke up a bit late, but he managed to catch up with them, following in a utility vehicle and observing the group closely. After a while, he glanced back at the group of kids sitting behind him.

"So? Any of you want to give it a try?" he asked, nodding toward the players running up the trail.

Everyone immediately shook their heads, unwilling to step out of the vehicle.

You're kidding, right? It's freezing out there. That looks like torture!

Richard laughed at their reactions, especially at Silva and Busquets, who were bundled up in four or five layers of jackets, clearly not used to this kind of cold. Their noses were red, and they kept rubbing their hands together, trying to stay warm.

Still, Richard knew this was necessary. If they were going to make it at Manchester, they had to adapt—not just to the pace of the game, but to the environment as well. Cold mornings, harsh conditions, and relentless sessions like this were all part of it.

His eyes scanned from player to player, noting who was struggling and who was pushing through with ease. Most of the coaching staff, aside from supervising them, were also monitoring the players' status on the system in case something went wrong.

Looking at their the manual data tracking and heart rate monitors, he could clearly see the players' condition. Sports science was still in its early stages, and the same went for Manchester City. They was using Prozone prototype technology to monitor everything.

No one stopped, despite not being in their best condition, and they continued to push through. After all, these were professional athletes. By the final kilometer, the group had split apart. Some pushed on with gritted teeth, while others were barely holding on.

But no one stopped.

Only when they finally reached the end, some dropped to their knees, gasping for air.

Pintus looked at them and nodded slightly. "Not bad," he said. "But not enough. This is just the beginning of today's training session."

Richard smirked. He turned his gaze back to the players grinding their way uphill, their breaths visible in the crisp mountain air.

This was only the beginning.

"Welcome to hell, guys."

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581. Serie A Club's Deep Pockets

All Manchester City players were undergoing their extreme training, but the Manchester City office was already filled with inquiries coming through the fax.

Richard, of course, was notified via a call, but what shocked him the most was that Parma, the winners of the UEFA Cup and Coppa Italia, had suddenly decided to target two of Manchester City's most important players—the heart of their defense:

Pablo Cannavaro

Lilian Thuram

Their agents have already expressed their desire to leave!

"It seems I can't even congratulate Ronaldo and Ronaldinho on their victory in the Copa América."

The result of the final was Uruguay 0–3 Brazil. Brazil managed to defeat Uruguay convincingly, with goals scored by Rivaldo and Ronaldo. In that competition, both Ronaldo and Rivaldo finished as top scorers, each with five goals.

This year's Copa América could be considered somewhat unique. In order to bring the number of competing teams to twelve, CONMEBOL invited CONCACAF's Mexico and AFC's Japan. Mexico accepted its fourth invitation, while Japan made its debut in the tournament. Japan thus became the first country from outside the Americas to participate in the Copa América.

Richard rubbed his forehead. Most players preferred not to change teams; some were loyal, while others were simply happy at their current clubs. However, if they did decide to move, then there was a high chance it would happen. Either they are unsure about their potential new clubs or about the salary, but one thing is certain—a team that offers greater competitive opportunities than City will be strongly considered by them.

Parma, for example, had enjoyed a remarkable rise in the early 1990s. Over the past three years, they had competed for the Serie A title while also winning both the UEFA Cup and the Coppa Italia. Backed by significant investment from their owner, Stefano Tanzi, Parma had firmly established themselves as a rising force in Italian football.

Although they were not a traditional giant and had yet to win the Serie A title, the league itself carried immense prestige. Serie A's reputation as the "little World Cup" was well deserved; in the eyes of the public, even teams finishing third or fourth were often seen as stronger than champions from the Premier League, Ligue 1, the Bundesliga, or La Liga.

Because of this, when the £50 million offer from Parma reached Manchester City, Richard immediately rejected it without hesitation. To make his position clear, he added in his reply: "£50 million plus Hernán Crespo and Juan Sebastián Verón!"

How could Parma be willing to part with their gems?

Crespo, with his 80 goals in just four seasons wearing the Parma jersey, was absolutely loved by the Tardini Boys. As for Verón, even though he had only scored one goal, people believed that he would become a driving force for Parma in the years to come.

Richard made his stance clear to Marina Granovskaia via a call. He said that unless they got Crespo or Verón, they would need to make a convincing offer.

What he didn't expect was that just as he was giving his instructions, Mourinho knocked on his door. He opened it for him, and when he heard why he had come looking for him, he was shocked.

Thuram and Cannavaro had proactively approached him for a transfer request!

"Did they give their reason?"

"Yes, they are—"

In short, many of these factors left Richard with no way to counter them. Just the fact that Cannavaro wanted to return home and Thuram wanted to venture to Italy was enough to shut down any attempt he might make to persuade them to stay.

From a player's perspective, there was nothing wrong with moving up in the world. Big clubs like Juventus, AC Milan, Inter, Lazio, and Parma regularly competed in European competitions. Not to mention managers like Marcello Lippi, Fabio Capello, and Sven-Göran Eriksson were setting tactical trends that other leagues followed.

The Premier League simply couldn't compare to Serie A. No matter how much he hyped it up, the fact remained—it would be utterly self-deceptive to think otherwise. If he tried to tell them that Parma's past glory was fleeting or Serie A might face financial trouble in a few years, what would it achieve? It would only make him appear petty.

Still, Richard frowned at the way this transfer was unfolding. It was clear that their agents were behind it—no doubt about it!

They had probably also been in contact privately. Such matters were unwritten rules in football, and Richard himself had nothing to complain about. Ninety-nine percent of transfers violated FIFA regulations, though you needed to be careful, since FIFA could investigate you—even for cases going back ten years.

Richard saw no reason to file any accusations—it would only isolate him in the football world. The only ones left to despair would be the clubs forced to watch their best players slip away, powerless to stop it.

"What do you think about it?" asked Richard to Mourinho about the situation.

"I don't think too much about it."

What surprised Richard was that Mourinho, instead of stressing over anything, seemed completely calm as usual.

Richard then saw him take a scrap of paper from his pocket before saying, "You promised me earlier that you would give me two or three players I want from this list, right?"

He picked up the paper Mourinho handed him and read it: Vítor Baía, Ricardo Carvalho, Costinha, Dmitri Alenichev, Hélder Postiga, Jorge Costa, Maniche, and Christian Vieri.

"You already know who you want?"

"Yes," Mourinho replied. "Give me Ricardo Carvalho, Costinha, Maniche, and Christian Vieri."

Well, well, well… all of these players are strong, physical types. Richard gave Mourinho a serious look.

"I will give it some consideration."