However, Mendes didn't know any of this. He'd only made this trip to Oviedo as a favor to Cristiano, but now he realized he didn't seem to recognize André anymore. He used to have a very poor opinion of André because when Cristiano was at Real Madrid, André had indeed caused him some headaches. He'd advised Cristiano more than once to send André back to Portugal, thinking he didn't necessarily have to play football—he'd never believed André was cut out for it. But now in Oviedo, the atmosphere felt very strange. Hierro seemed to treat André like some incredible prodigy.
Ultimately, after some consideration, Hierro agreed to the three-year term André proposed. However, an additional condition was added to the contract: Real Oviedo would have the right of first refusal under equal conditions. What surprised Mendes even more was that the release clause in the contract was as high as €30 million.
"André, you don't have an agent yet, do you?"
After finalizing the contract, Mendes stood up to leave. When he reached the door, he suddenly turned back and asked.
"No."
"Then would you be willing to let me serve as your agent?"
"Really? Mr. Jorge, you're actually willing to be my agent?"
André felt like he'd been struck by lightning—the good kind. From the original host's memories, he knew this European football super-agent wasn't fond of him at all. For him to suggest representing a player in the Segunda División now seemed like absolute fantasy.
In fact, what André didn't know was that Mendes had made the offer on a sudden whim. It was mainly because Hierro's attitude toward André felt very strange to him. Even if Hierro hadn't managed a team before, Mendes believed that with Hierro's knowledge of Real Madrid, he couldn't possibly be ignorant of André's past. Given that, Hierro's attitude toward André seemed even more unusual. He hadn't gambled on a young player in many years. This sudden proposal was a surge of impulse reminiscent of his younger days.
"Of course. Cristiano is my client, and since you've now embarked on the path of a professional player, I hope to help you. Now that the contract is signed, stay in Spain and work hard. However, André, I still hope you can control your temper. Also, find a way to learn Spanish. These things will be a great help for you to integrate into the team."
"I understand, sir. I'll work hard."
"Good. I'll send over an agency contract when I get back. Take a look at it, and if there are no problems, sign it and send it back to me. If anything comes up, give me a call. You have my number."
"Alright. Thank you, sir."
"How about that? That guy actually took the initiative to be your agent?"
"Yeah, I don't know why he brought it up either."
"Alright, young man, don't think about anything else. Your only task now is to play football well. That's the foundation of everything."
After Mendes left, Hierro came out of his office, patted André on the shoulder, and spoke.
"I understand, Mr. Hierro."
"I prefer people to call me Boss. Keep it up, young man! I believe one day you'll be even better than Cristiano, but the prerequisite is that you must train seriously. By the way, you must control your temper. Today was very good. I had Miguel help find you a place to stay nearby. That's it for today. Handle your other affairs, and formal training begins tomorrow."
"Yes, Boss."
André went to the small apartment Sánchez had helped find, while Mendes, after returning to Cristiano's side, sent the agency contract to André's email.
"Oh my God, Jorge, you're actually going to be André's agent?"
Cristiano discovered that Mendes was sending an agency contract to his cousin and instantly shouted in surprise.
"What on earth happened? Haven't you always disliked him? Jorge, you're hiding something from me."
"Alright, alright. Actually, I don't know what happened either. But when I went there this time, I found Hierro's attitude toward André was wrong. Seriously, it was very off. So maybe I'm doing this because I want to figure out exactly what's going on."
"Attitude was wrong? How so? Now that you mention it, I remember too—when Hierro came to see me back then, he seemed very urgent."
Mendes then recounted everything he'd seen and heard after going to Oviedo to Cristiano, detail by detail.
"Cristiano, you know it's impossible for Hierro not to know what André did in the past. Even if he didn't know, wouldn't the other coaches and players in Oviedo know? They were in the Segunda División with the Real Madrid B Team. Yet Hierro acted like that, and the others didn't stop him. Don't you find it strange?"
"A €30 million release clause? And he wants right of first refusal? Could it be that my cousin really is a genius? But why did no one notice for so long at Castilla?"
"Exactly. So I'm taking a gamble on this. I haven't been this impulsive in years. Besides, even if I'm wrong, I won't lose much."
"Well, I hope you're right. Aunt Maria has always been worried about him. That brat—I don't even know if he's called home yet."
While Cristiano and Mendes were discussing André, André received a call from Cristiano's mother.
Seeing the number displayed on the phone, he felt a bit of a headache, but he didn't dare not answer. He knew that if he chose not to pick up, his memories told him the phone would keep ringing incessantly. Cristiano would also be caught in the crossfire, and his own outcome wouldn't be much better.
The call was indeed from Cristiano's mother, Maria Dolores dos Santos Aveiro—Aunt Maria, as he'd always known her. In the original host's memories, there was actually very little about his own biological mother. He'd basically grown up in Cristiano's home. Moreover, Aunt Maria had always had him call her 'mãe'—which means mother in Portuguese.
"You brat, why did it take you so long to answer the phone?"
As soon as the call connected, that loud voice came through.
"Uh, mãe, I was tidying up my room."
"Oh, heavens! André, you've learned to tidy your room? That's wonderful!"
Damn. Can even this get praised? Bloody hell, just how lazy and messy were you before that tidying a room gets you a compliment?
"By the way, I heard from Cristiano that you're staying in Spain, right? Why didn't you go with him? Who will take care of you if you stay there? Why don't you come back to Portugal?"
"Mãe, I've grown up, really. A club here in Spain invited me to play, and the contract's already signed."
"Really? Oh, God, that's so unexpected. You haven't been cheated, have you?"
"No, Mr. Jorge came over to help me."
"Really? Then I'm relieved. I was thinking that if things didn't work out, you'd come back to Portugal. I even made a lot of those codfish cakes you like."
"I'll come back to see you when I have a break. I need to finish tidying the room now, mãe."
"Alright, then I'll have to wait until your break. Goodbye, my baby."
"Goodbye, mãe."
After hanging up, André let out a long breath. That had been more nerve-wracking than the training match.
He looked around the small apartment—sparse, clean, functional. Perfect for a fresh start.
Tomorrow, his new life would truly begin.
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