The Munich 1860 acquisition was sealed, but the spotlight was now on Neil Goyal and Kunaal Thakur.
With 50 million Euros, they'd claimed 95% of the 3. Liga club's shares—Neil holding 51% after clearing 40 million Euros in debt, Kunaal with 44%, and 5% left for fans.
The Bundesliga's scrapped 50+1 rule had paved the way, though not without backlash. Most fans hailed the rescue, but extremists waved racist banners at galas, a bitter reminder of the work ahead.
Still camped at the Thakur Hotel's lavish "7.0" edition, Neil and Kunaal plotted from its glass-walled lounge. House-hunting in Munich's brutal market was on hold; their focus was the club.
Anna Weber, the 20-year-old LMU student who'd caught Neil's eye, had just signed on as their part-time translator.
Her job required flexibility—club calls trumped her classes, needing advance notice to juggle her schedule. Barely a day after inking the contract, her phone buzzed with a summons to Munich 1860's headquarters. It was the new shareholders' press conference, a high-stakes debut for Neil and Kunaal.
Anna arrived early at the Grünwalder Stadion, her Bayern Munich jersey swapped for a crisp black suit, her high ponytail replaced by shoulder-length hair pinned neatly. The event was a spectacle—nearly 100 reporters packed the room, hungry for scoops.
Munich 1860, despite its 3. Liga struggles, was the city's second club with a storied past. The media, bored of Bayern Munich's scandals, sensed fresh material in the first foreign owners post-50+1.
Neil, named club chairman as majority shareholder, sat center stage, Kunaal beside him as general manager and newly appointed sports director after sacking the predecessor. Head coach and captain Vones flanked them, lending gravitas.
Anna, poised at the podium, was ready to translate. Kunaal leaned toward Neil, whispering, "You picked the right club. Look at this turnout." Neil, in a tailored suit, smirked. "I'm just thinking how good I look. Anna's gonna notice."
Kunaal groaned. "Stick to the speech I wrote. Don't go off-script." Neil gave a thumbs-up. "No problem." The chairman's speech went smoothly, Neil reading Kunaal's words in polished English, touting their vision to revive Munich 1860. Then came the Q&A, a minefield of probing reporters.
A Kicker journalist fired first. "As the first foreign investors in Germany, what's your view on the 50+1 rule's abolition?" Kunaal, prepared, nodded to Anna, who readied her translation.
"Thank you, Kicker," he said. "The German Football Association's decision is bold and transformative. It strengthens the Bundesliga by attracting global capital, boosting competitiveness. For us, it's a chance to grow our influence through this historic league."
Anna's translation was flawless, her voice steady. Kunaal's answer—humble yet confident—drew nods from the crowd. Neil, watching her, was captivated by her focus, her sharp blue eyes scanning the room.
Bild's reporter went next, their question sharper. "What's Munich 1860's top priority?" Kunaal leaned in. "This is a long-term investment. We'll build a world-class youth academy, double the Grünwalder Stadion's capacity, and invest heavily in players to restore the club's glory."
Anna translated, her poise unshaken. Neil, stealing glances, barely registered Kunaal's words. The Munich Evening News asked, "How high will you take Munich 1860?" Kunaal opened his mouth, ready to say "Bundesliga," but Neil cut in, seizing the mic. "The top! First in Munich, Germany, Europe, the world! We're aiming for the Champions League!"
The room froze. Kunaal's jaw tightened. Neil's boast was their private dream, but airing it now was reckless. A 3. Liga club challenging Bayern Munich, Europe's titan, was laughable—and offensive.
Bayern's dominance was unchallenged; even Manchester City's Guardiola tiptoed around them. Reporters scribbled furiously, sensing a headline. Neil's words could spark grudges, inviting trouble from rivals and media alike.
Kunaal, quick to recover, forced a laugh. "That's our ambition, but Neil forgot one thing—we're also gunning for the galaxy's top spot." Anna translated, her tone light, and the room erupted in laughter, defusing the tension.
Kunaal's save was masterful, but he shot Neil a warning look. The press conference wrapped without further mishaps, Anna's translations bridging the gap seamlessly.
Afterward, Kunaal huddled with staff, dissecting the event and prepping for fallout. Neil, however, slipped away, lingering by the exit for Anna.
She emerged in her suit, professional yet striking, her fair skin glowing under the stadium lights. Neil, clutching a bouquet of 999 roses he'd ordered, approached. "Here to pick you up," he said, grinning.
Anna raised an eyebrow. "We work together. Isn't that enough?" Neil, undeterred, played the charmer. "Work's one thing. This is after hours." Anna shook her head, polite but firm. "I'm good, thanks." She walked off, leaving Neil deflated. His pride, honed by a life of privilege, stung, but her rejection only fueled his resolve.
Back at the hotel, Neil found Kunaal buried in paperwork. He grabbed two beers, handing one over. Kunaal accepted, and they clinked bottles, tension easing. "Next steps?" Neil asked, slumping onto a couch. Kunaal, flipping through spreadsheets, nodded. "Stadium upgrades and youth academy go to pros. Players are on us."
Neil perked up. "Let's do it ourselves. Who's first?" Kunaal grinned, surprised by Neil's focus. "A goalkeeper. I'm thinking Gianluigi Buffon—the greatest ever. He's in Parma, Italy." Neil's eyes lit up. "Italy? I'm in. Let's get him." Kunaal raised a brow. "You're awfully motivated." Neil shrugged, smirking. "Got my reasons."
"Bring Anna," Neil added. Kunaal sighed. "Fine, but she's there to work." The trip was set: Neil, Kunaal, two assistants, and Anna, flying to Parma on Kunaal's private jet.
Anna hesitated—the commission was generous, but it meant more time with Neil's advances. Her studies were her priority, yet the job's pay was hard to refuse. She agreed, scheduling around her classes.
At Munich Airport, Anna's jaw dropped at the jet. She'd known Neil and Kunaal were rich, but this was next-level. Onboard, Neil hovered near her, offering snacks, but she stayed professional, focusing on her notes.
Kunaal, meanwhile, pulled Neil into a discussion about Munich 1860's 25-man first-team roster:
Forwards:
Vones
Lakenmacher
Boanba
Lex
Skenderovic
Baal
Grillinger
Midfielders:
Dressman
Lannert
Kobilanski
Riedel
Talig
Moll
Woll
Defenders:
Flat
Mogalla
Steinhart
Becaccia
Weihn
Lang
Willsch
Glück
Goalkeepers:
Schiller
Kretzschmar
Freitag
"Over half won't stay next season," Kunaal said, handing Neil a thick dossier with player stats and highlight videos.
Neil flipped through it, impressed. "You're thorough." Anna, seated nearby, overheard, noting Kunaal's diligence compared to Neil's impulsiveness. Yet Neil's passion, when focused, was undeniable.
"We keep Vones—he's captain, solid," Kunaal said. "Lex and Moll show promise. The rest? We'll scout replacements." Neil nodded, envisioning Indian talents training alongside future signings like Buffon.
Their dream—a Bundesliga club nurturing India's football future—was taking shape. Italy was the next step, and with Anna along, Neil saw more than just a business trip ahead.