My Ultimate Gacha System-Chapter 295 - 284: After Bologna I

Thursday, April 27, 2023

Stadio Renato Dall’Ara, Bologna Away Dressing Room 6:24 PM

The dressing room door closes behind the last journalist and the noise from the corridor drops immediately to a low rumble, while camera flashes from outside still bleed through the gap beneath the door in thin white lines that pulse and fade as photographers move past.

Shirts hang damp over benches and the fabric holds the shape of bodies that wore them, while tape is curled at the edges from where wrists have already been unwrapped and left half-stripped across the floor. Koopmeiners sits forward on his bench with a towel across his shoulders and his phone in both hands, scrolling without expression while his legs stay wide and his boots remain unlaced because removing them hasn’t happened yet. Scalvini leans back against the wall with his arms crossed loosely over his chest and his eyes closed, and the scoreboard graphic on the mounted screen near the ceiling still glows above them.

FULL TIME: BOLOGNA 2-4 ATALANTA AGGREGATE: ATALANTA 5-2 BOLOGNA

Demien sits on the bench near his locker and his fingers work through the first knot of his right boot slowly, and sweat has dried against the back of his neck while the cold air from the ventilation unit above reaches the wet patches on his shirt and makes the fabric go stiff.

The translucent panel slides into the edge of his vision.

「MISSION COMPLETE」 「OBJECTIVE: QUALIFY FOR COPPA ITALIA FINAL」 「REWARD: 200 TP + 200 MP + 1 SP (FIRST PROFESSIONAL HAT-TRICK)」 「DISTRIBUTING REWARDS...」

The numbers flash briefly before stabilizing, and a second notification follows without pause.

「DAILY TRAINING REWARDS (APRIL 24–28)」 「4 SESSIONS × 10 TP = 40 TP」 「TOTAL TP GAINED THIS MATCH CYCLE: 240 TP」 「TOTAL MP GAINED THIS MATCH CYCLE: 200 MP」

The panel fades.

Demien pulls off his right boot and sets it down against the leg of the bench before reaching for the left, and his fingers find the second knot and work through it at the same controlled pace as the first because there’s no rush now that the whistle has gone and the result is confirmed.

The dressing room door opens.

Gasperini steps through and players across the room straighten slightly without standing, and the conversations that had started in low tones stop without anyone deciding to stop them. He doesn’t raise his voice and he doesn’t need to because the room is already quiet, and his eyes move across the benches once before he speaks.

"Six days until Monza," he says, and his hands stay in his jacket pockets. "Wednesday we reset."

He taps the doorframe twice with his knuckle, then turns and walks back out into the corridor, and the door swings shut behind him.

No one speaks immediately after and the silence holds for a few seconds before Tolói stands from his bench and heads toward the showers without a word, and his boots click against the concrete floor as he moves, and the sound is enough of a signal because others begin rising one by one and following.

Stadio Renato Dall’Ara Exterior — Bus Bay 7:09 PM

The security line holds back a group of Atalanta supporters who have gathered near the exit and their scarves are raised while they chant against the noise of the stadium still filtering out from inside, and the warmth from the evening air meets the cold coming off the concrete walls where the shadow falls.

A few players stop near the barrier and take phones from supporters’ hands, holding them up for photos before handing them back and moving on, and the interactions are brief because the bus is idling twenty meters away with its engine running and exhaust drifting upward into the pale sky.

Demien walks out with his bag over one shoulder and his jacket zipped halfway, and when he reaches the barrier he nods once toward the supporters without stopping before continuing toward the bus entrance and stepping up.

Inside, most seats are already taken and the interior lighting is low, and Lookman has his headphones on with his eyes forward while Hateboer leans against the window on the opposite side with his jacket pulled up around his collar. The driver closes the door with a hydraulic hiss and checks his mirror before pulling away from the bay while the sound of the supporters outside fades behind them.

Bologna — City Streets 7:22 PM

Bologna’s streets are quiet at this hour because most of the crowd has moved away from the stadium and filtered into bars and side streets, and the bus moves through intersections where traffic lights change without other cars waiting beneath them. Streetlights pass in rhythm across the windows and the glow slides through the tinted glass and moves across the faces of sleeping players before disappearing toward the back of the cabin.

A few players scroll through their phones with the brightness turned low, and the light from their screens reflects faintly off the window beside them, while others have their eyes closed and their heads tilted against the headrests. No music plays from anyone’s speakers and the only sound is the engine’s low hum and the occasional shift of weight against a seat as the bus takes a corner.

The bus merges onto the autostrada heading north and the city’s edge gives way to open road, and the outside goes dark beyond the barrier lights that mark the central reservation while the highway stretches ahead through the windscreen in a straight line that disappears into the distance.

Bologna Airport 7:51 PM

The squad moves through a private entrance beside the main terminal where a staff member holds the door open and a ground handler waits with a trolley for bags, and the handoff happens without stopping because the routine is automatic and no one needs to be directed toward where to go. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Bags are loaded quickly from the corridor onto a cart while players continue moving toward the boarding gate, and the flight boards within twenty minutes of their arrival because the plane has been waiting on the tarmac since before the match finished. Players find their seats and settle in immediately without taking bags from the overhead bins or adjusting lighting or doing anything that suggests they plan to be awake for the duration.

Demien drops into the seat beside de Roon, who has already leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed, and his breathing is already controlled and even in the way of someone who has learned over years of professional football how to sleep in transit wherever transit happens.

The plane taxis away from its position and the engines change pitch as the thrust builds, and the runway lights pass in rapid sequence outside the window before the nose lifts and the wheels leave the ground, and below through the oval of scratched perspex the city lights of Bologna spread out and then shrink as altitude increases until they become indistinct from the grid of lights that extends across the plain of the Po Valley in every direction.

Orio al Serio Airport, Bergamo 8:34 PM

The descent begins just after half past eight and the cabin lights come on at a low level while players shift in their seats and retrieve items from the seat pockets in front of them, and the wheels touch down with a single firm contact that compresses through the landing gear before the engines reverse and the aircraft decelerates along the runway.

The jet bridge extends and connects to the forward door, and players gather their belongings slowly because there is no urgency on the other side of the terminal, and they file out into the empty building in a loose line that spreads out as the corridor widens toward the exit. A team bus waits outside the doors with its engine already running and the driver standing beside it, and the squad boards without instruction because the routine is the same as every away trip and no one needs to be told where the bus is.

The drive from the airport to Zingonia is short and takes twelve minutes on roads that are empty at this hour, and nobody talks for the full duration while the facility gates appear ahead in the headlights and swing open as the bus approaches. The bus parks in the designated bay and the doors open and players step down onto the access road with their bags and move toward their cars in the lot without grouping or conversation, and engines start one by one in the dark while taillights come on and the lot empties gradually as each car turns onto the access road and disappears.

Centro Bortolotti Training Complex, Zingonia Friday, April 28, 2023 8:02 AM

Morning arrives with overcast skies and the grey sits flat across everything from the tree line at the edge of the complex to the roof of the main building where a flag hangs without wind to move it. The Zingonia gates open at eight and cars begin arriving through them in ones and twos, and by twenty past the lot is half full and growing.

Demien pulls into his usual spot near the side entrance and kills the engine before sitting for a moment while the dashboard clock reads eight twenty-three, then he opens the door and gets out with his bag and walks toward the main building.