Emperor of Football: Julien De Rocca

"De Rocca scores twice, then gets injured! France narrowly defeats Italy, advances to semifinals!"

"The only saving grace for Les Bleus—Julien, leading the European Championship scoring charts with four goals!"

"At 17, De Rocca breaks numerous heavyweight European Championship records"

"Blanc: Julien is France's future; won't renew contract"

"Ribéry: Time to make way for the young ones, De Rocca is a pleasant surprise"

Julien lied in his hospital bed at the Clairefontaine medical center, flipping through newspapers his father Pierre had bought him. The pages were filled with reports about last night's crazy match.

France's narrow victory, Germany emerged as the biggest winner.

Then there were more reports about Julien himself. He looked at the praise and smiled.

This European Championship, despite the injury, had been worth it!

On one hand, the misfortune had unlocked a hidden attribute: injury resistance. On the other hand, he had used his performance to enter the vision of French fans.

This laid a solid foundation for him to establish himself firmly in the national team. At least for the next major tournament, the World Cup, he would have more support.

And Julien was confident that in two years' time, he could elevate his abilities to another level.

'World Cup champion? That sounded pretty good. He-he'

As Julien unconsciously flipped through the newspaper, lost in thought, Pierre knocked and entered the room.

"Julien, the results are in."

Following him were Clairefontaine's chief physician Montel and Bastia's team doctor.

When a club's core player gets injured while on national duty, Bastia's owner Geronimi and others like Chataigner couldn't just sit idly by. They quickly had the team doctor work overtime to come to Clairefontaine to check on Julien's condition.

At this moment, their faces all showed confusion.

"Julien, your adductor injury this time is quite serious. From the MRI results, the tear is at least moderate grade. Recovery would normally take about two months, and surgery would be needed."

Montel's tone shifted, "But I've discovered that your muscle strength has improved significantly compared to before, and judging from the injury site, recovery is happening faster than expected. Surgery might not be necessary."

Montel pulled out several reports, these were all examination reports from when Julien had suffered serious adductor injuries during his time at Chelsea and Nantes.

He checked multiple times. Finally, he told Julien, "So, based on your current muscle recovery situation, you might be able to return in about three weeks. This is actually quite incredible. I've only seen muscles become more fragile after injury. You're the first player I've encountered whose muscles actually strengthen after being injured."

Montel left the hospital room with amazement.

Pierre and Bastia's team doctor both breathed sighs of relief.

The team doctor quickly relayed the situation to Geronimi, Chataigner, and others.

"Good, good, good!"

In Bosnia, Hadzibegic finally relaxed his heart that had been constricted all night when he received Chataigner's call.

Last night, upon learning of Julien's injury, he had barely slept.

"I'll strictly control Julien's playing time going forward, don't worry."

Then his tone changed, becoming stern, "But I hope the club will also pressure the national team, they can't keep overusing Julien like this!

Damn it, didn't Blanc realize that he is only 17? Making Julien play a full hundred-plus minutes! If he hadn't used him like that, Julien wouldn't have gotten injured! I swear—"

Not far away, Leila and their eldest daughter Amina watched the angry Hadzibegic, exchanged glances, and smiled helplessly.

"That Julien again?"

Amina felt like her father had never cared about her this much, especially hearing from her mother that father hadn't slept all night just because that Frenchman named Julien got injured.

Leila nodded and advised Amina, "Don't listen to what the federation people are saying. Faruk won't be coaching the national team anytime soon. Look at him—his whole heart is with Bastia in France right now."

Amina nodded slightly, thinking she should learn more about Julien and about Bastia when she had time.

She wanted to see what kind of magic made her father abandon the idea of returning home to coach.

Meanwhile, Hadzibegic's tone grew heavier, "You know what Julien means to us! We were just lucky this time that it wasn't serious. If it had been worse, he would have missed the French Cup final! That's a chance for Bastia to make history!"

Chataigner, still in Ukraine, was also helpless, "I can only try my best with the national team, sigh..."

He was genuinely worried about Julien and thinking about the French Cup final.

For the French Cup, he had already booked a flight to London, England for tonight. He was going to Cobham to meet with players and have a good talk, hoping to confirm next season's squad early and give Hadzibegic more time for team chemistry.

But regarding Julien's playing time with the national team, he wasn't like Zidane and others who could influence the national team or even the federation.

What he didn't know was that Zidane, whom he thought could influence the French federation, cared even more about Julien's health than he did.

"You must protect him!"

Zidane's tone was very serious when gathering with Deschamps, "You know what a healthy Julien means to the French team."

They had already learned about Julien's current condition through Clairefontaine's medical center.

Deschamps smiled and waved his hand, "Hey, Zinedine, you don't need to be so serious with me. I understand better than you how to protect players."

As he spoke, Deschamps looked at Zidane teasingly, "Don't forget, I've been coaching for many years. You should find a place to start your coaching career soon. Being a coach isn't as simple as you imagine—you can't just win titles casually."

After hearing Deschamps' promise, Zidane's expression softened. Regarding Deschamps' later comment, he remained noncommittal, "I only want to coach teams I want to coach."

Then he looked at Deschamps, "I hope you don't get fired too soon. I'm not ready to become France's head coach yet."

"Hahaha!"

Both Deschamps and Zidane laughed.

Clairefontaine.

During his recovery, Julien experienced tranquility for the first time.

The storms of the European Championship couldn't penetrate Clairefontaine's forest. This football sanctuary, embraced by the Rambouillet oak woods, seemed to naturally isolate the outside world's clamor.

When morning mist hadn't yet dispersed, Julien sat by the medical center's floor-to-ceiling windows, watching seven pitches appear and disappear in the thin fog—places where countless French players had left their training footprints.

Two European Championship titles. One World Cup title.

This was the glory the French team had left for its fans.

But 12 years had passed, and this time, France still had no chance of touching the Delaunay Cup.

Last night, France was crushed by Germany 3-0.

French media wailed in despair. French fans, however, remained remarkably calm. This was a result that could have been foreseen before the match.

Last night's French team was civilian to the extreme.

This made many fans begin to miss Julien. Seventeen-year-old Julien had found his way into French fans' hearts just like that.

After the match, Julien received a message from Mbappé, expressing regret that he couldn't see Julien continue leading France forward.

He also received a message from Kanté, asking about his injury recovery.

There were many other messages. Many expressed regret about Julien's injury, which cost France a spark.

But this was football. Where are the "what ifs"? Where are the "supposing"?

Earlier, there had been the Portugal vs. Spain match.

For Portuguese fans, it was equally a painful night.

Ronaldo had a chance to score the winner against Spain in the final moments, but his hesitant shot went high over the goal, missing the best opportunity to lead Portugal to the final.

In the end, during the penalty shootout, Ronaldo didn't even get a chance to take a penalty before the match was over.

Ronaldo cried.

At 27, he still had no major tournament titles with his national team.

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