The Greatest of All Time

Chapter 42 - A Contract

Zachary followed Coach Bjørn through a narrow corridor, up the stairs, into Coach Johansen's office on the second floor.

"Have a seat," said Coach Johansen. He pointed to one of the elegant sofas opposite his desk.

"Thank you," Zachary replied as he sank into the sofa. Coach Bjørn was seated on a padded stool next to Coach Johansen's desk, maintaining his silence.

Zachary let his eyes take in his surroundings. The office, painted with a light shade of grey, had a single massive floor-to-ceiling window facing the training grounds. In one corner, an air conditioner blasted at low settings. It brought in the air from outside, giving off a fresh breeze. To its left stood a wooden cabinet with glass doors. Through the glass, Zachary could see several trophies lined up on its shelves.

"So, how are you finding life here in Norway," Coach Johansen inquired, half-smiling. He placed his hands on his grey desk. Beside him sat a desktop computer, an open notebook, and a stack of papers held down by a ball-shaped paperweight. At the far corner of the uncluttered desk stood a framed photograph of a red-haired teenage girl, probably the coach's daughter.

"I'm doing well," Zachary replied politely. "The training facilities here are quite remarkable. However, I haven't taken part in enough matches to practice my skills." He added, voice taking on a dubious tone.

Zachary needed more official matches to gain match experience—and, of course, system Juju-points. He had realized that he could earn 30 or more points from system missions in each game, depending on his performance.

He wanted to take part in more games to rack up points and purchase high-grade elixirs to improve his physical fitness.

Coach Johansen folded his arms across his chest, maintaining his half-smile. "That's one of the reasons I called you in here. I can promise that in a few months, you'll get a lot of match time. You'll get the chance to play against other academies from the rest of Europe."

"You mean the Riga Cup?"

"Yes." Coach Johansen nodded. "This time, I have struck a deal with the Rosenborg officials. You can join the squads heading for the Riga and SIA cups. But on one condition."

Zachary met the coach's gaze and spoke quietly. "And that is?"

Just then, the door opened behind him. Heavy footsteps moved into the room. "You started without me?" Murmured a deep voice, in a tone laced with a tinge of disapproval.

"Sorry, Mr. Malvik." Coach Johansen stood up and extended a hand to the new stranger. "But you are late. No worries, though. We were simply answering some of Zachary's questions while awaiting your arrival."

Zachary was confused. Was there supposed to be someone else present during the meeting? He turned to his side and observed the new arrival. He was a middle-aged blonde man in an elegant suit with the standard-issue Norwegian face, ubiquitous square shoulders, and a square chin. He looked like the stereotypical office type and seemed to have mastered his look of confidence as a money-making skill.

The stranger took Coach Johansen's hand and smiled. "Pardon me, coach. I came rushing here right out of court. How is your morning, by the way?" He asked, settling down on the sofa beside Zachary.

"Fine," Coach Johansen replied, sitting back down. "I guess you remember my assistant, Coach Bjørn ?" He cocked his head to one side, observing the man.

"Yes, yes," the stranger said, turning towards the other coach in the room. "Good morning, to you?"

"Good morning." Coach Bjørn nodded at the stranger, smiling.