Chapter 47
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: The Lancashire Trumpet Confronting the Galaxy
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"We have a major announcement."
In the midst of a season filled with massive squad reinforcements, I stood before the reporters and declared it boldly and succinctly.
"Baggio, Mellberg, Friedel, even Holand... You're saying there's an even bigger signing?"
"Do you still have money left to spend in the transfer market?"
The reporters' faces were brimming with curiosity, all wondering, 'Who is it this time?'
To give them a front-page photo worth printing, I thrust my right hand high into the air and extended a single finger.
"Roberto Baggio? Of course, he's the greatest. But Blackburn will sign another player of equal class—no, even greater class."
I raised my hand high again and stuck out my thumb.
"We're signing the number one player! Everyone, get excited!"
The next day, the news exploded starting with the evening editions.
The Lancashire Trumpet Sounds Again! Second World-Class Signing Teased After Baggio
Bluff or for Real? 'Mr. Lee''s Mad Signing Declaration
Roberto Baggio Was Just the Start—Another Number One Player to Be Signed
The press was ablaze, but in the meantime, I steadily handled company business while processing the hangar construction contract.
I also contacted Executive Director Lee at our Spanish branch to monitor real-time reactions there.
Perez has become chairman. Public opinion never imagined Sandro Rosell getting pushed out.
"Perez won the election on the promise of signing Barcelona's Figo. He's probably gearing up to trigger Figo's buyout and start negotiations in earnest."
A 60 million euro buyout? An unimaginable sum!
"Think of it as a sunk cost. Once we sign him, all the attention will pour onto Blackburn Rovers. And the club's main sponsor and parent company? Where do you think those point?"
With Figo and Baggio, we'd boost merchandise sales, of course—but this was also a golden chance to skyrocket Daeyang's prestige across Europe, making everyone wonder, 'Which country's company is that?'
I'd asked for a preseason friendly in Korea as a condition for the transfer funds, but that could wait. First things first: the signing.
I'll keep faxing and emailing every Figo-related article as it breaks.
"Yes, please do."
I hung up and lit a cigarette.
"For now, everything's falling perfectly into place..."
Now it was time to prepare the lifeboat for when Figo fell into Perez's trap.
Luis Figo's home in Barcelona was in an uproar.
"Lu—Luis, it's the official transfer offer. That lunatic Perez actually triggered the 60 million euros."
"Damn it!"
Florentino Perez had become Real Madrid's chairman.
And not just that—he'd won on the absurd promise: 'If I'm elected, I'll sign Barcelona's Luis Figo. He's already signed the contract.'
RRRR—RRRR—
The ominous ring echoed through the house.
Figo irritably snatched up the receiver.
"Who is it?"
Luis Figo, my friend—you're about to join Real Madrid's Galácticos project~
Figo yelled at the smug voice of Florentino Perez.
"Who said I'm going to Real?!"
Didn't you get that million dollars—and the contract?
"That was just to spread rumors about signing me!"
A contract is a contract, Luis. And if you refuse the transfer? You owe Real Madrid $22 million in liquidated damages. Forgot that clause?
"That's ridiculous!"
That million dollars Figo had smirked at and pocketed? It was a poisoned chalice.
'Even if I become chairman and Figo doesn't come, he must pay $22 million in damages.' That prank clause, signed because no one dreamed Perez would win, was now strangling Figo.
Figo, his agent Bayga, and Perez had all thought it impossible. But Perez had turned 'I'll sign Barcelona's Figo' into his winning pledge.
It was a trap baited from start to finish with Figo himself.
"Take the money right now! I haven't spent a dime!"
I don't need money, Luis. I need the star player Luis Figo.
"Damn it!"
Figo hurled the receiver down.
He scooped up his tearful young daughter Dana, but couldn't stop his body from shaking with rage.
"Sorry... I'm so sorry, Dana."
Clutching his daughter, Figo glared at Bayga.
Bayga, who hadn't foreseen this mess either, broke into a cold sweat and spoke.
"It... it was Paulo Futre's proposal."
"Senior Futre—what the hell did you do?!"
In a fury, Figo grabbed the receiver again while holding his daughter, unleashing a torrent of venom.
"The Lisbon air feels nice, doesn't it?"
"Car's ready."
Executive Director Lee guided me straight to the sedan, and inside, I reviewed Spanish and Portuguese newspapers in English, along with related materials.
Real Madrid Offers Barcelona €60M Figo Buyout
Barcelona Can't Refuse Buyout—Figo's Choice?
Juan Gaspart: 'Liquidated Damages to Real? We Don't Have a Penny for That.'
12-Hour Summit in Sardinia—Will Figo Choose Real?
After scanning the papers, I asked Executive Director Lee,
"What's the local reaction like? And our expats' take?"
"I figured less than 10% at first, but with the buyout triggered, it's 30%. Now they've tracked Figo to his vacation spot for a 12-hour persuasion session? I'd say 70%."
"Even with the contract issue, that's enough to sway his heart..."
"Truth is, Figo's been Barcelona's key player, but his salary was nothing special. Real's offering four times that just in wages."
In the end, he'd stumbled into an unexpected transfer saga out of sheer greed—and Barcelona, whom he thought had his back, washed their hands of it. Disillusioned, the deal of the century was born.
He couldn't even go home to Barcelona; his hometown Lisbon area was plastered with anti-transfer banners and posters.
Executive Director Lee had gotten the address through Figo's agent Bayga ahead of time.
Cornered enough to hear out Blackburn—a team not even in the Champions League.
"Vice Chairman, this is it."
A modest rural house. No surprise a top star was hiding out here.
"Hola, good to see you all."
"..."
The mood inside was grim.
Figo had sent his family to his wife's native Sweden, leaving only agent Bayga and Paulo Futre—the mastermind behind this transfer mess—staring blankly.
"Luis Figo, it's an honor. I'm Lee Dae-hyun, owner of Blackburn Rovers."
"Never heard of the team... but nice to meet you anyway."
Figo extended a hand with a sour expression. Our handshake felt different from Baggio's—his eyes vacant, lost in silence.
Bayga cut to the chase.
"Real Madrid offered €60 million. And $4.4 million a year—four times Figo's current $1.1 million. No team would dare match it."
"So Luis wants to go to Real?"
"Not even considering it. But Barcelona won't pay a dime in refusal damages. They spent 12 hours convincing me in that Italian resort—and I was the one convinced."
The money was one thing, but Figo seemed truly jaded with the football world.
Of course, it was a disaster he'd brought on himself—and Perez, the businessman who'd exploited it...
"How about joining us at Blackburn?"
"Mr. Lee, Real's already triggered the buyout..."
"I'm here because we can match it."
"!?"
Figo stared me down, then turned to Bayga.
"Bayga, you said you were bringing someone who could fix this mess?"
"Y-yeah. Premier League England."
"Champions League?"
"U-UEFA Cup. We finished 4th in the EPL last season."
"...I'd rather take all the hate and go to Real."
At Figo's deadpan face, I laid out my pitch.
"We'll pay €60 million too. In pounds, not euros."
"?"
"€60 million is £38 million. Plus, I'll cover your entire $22 million Real refusal penalty."
"...!!!"
"$4.4 million salary? We can do that."
"If I come, do you have players up to my level?"
"News travels slow in Portugal. Roberto Baggio's already at our club, waiting for you, Luis."
"...Baggio went to England? To your team?"
Figo, genuinely shocked, asked Futre and Bayga to confirm.
"Kevin Phillips from Euro 2000—the one who faced you in the finals—is on our team too."
"Ah, that short, quick striker."
He nodded as I answered.
"Luis, coming to Blackburn wouldn't be 'betraying Barcelona.' It'd be a challenge to the Premier League."
"Real's vision was impressive—the Galácticos plan Perez is building piqued my interest a bit."
"Do well in England, and opportunities will multiply. Title races built around you, influence on the international stage."
"Influence?"
"I'm Korean. And in two years, the World Cup's co-hosted by Korea and Japan. Imagine Luis Figo on that stage—his stature and fame in East Asia."
"Hmm..."
A team he'd normally ignore—but with Real looming, blocking a Barca-to-Real move? His resolve wavered.
Then Paulo Futre grabbed me.
"Smoke?"
"Suddenly?"
I stepped outside with the fidgety Futre, Bayga trailing. We lit up in a dim alley.
"Mr. Lee, it's a relief you can solve Figo's issues."
"Let's convince Luis somehow. Truly grateful."
"That's why I'm here—to sign Luis Figo."
Futre hemmed and hawed, then blurted,
"Um, but..."
"Yeah?"
"There's one more thing. Handle this, and I'll stake my life on getting Figo to England."
I got it instantly.
"How much from Perez?"
"!?"
"How much? You're confessing because you gotta cough up the advance for Figo's Real transfer, right?"
"I-it's a big sum."
"Okay, we'll settle that too. First, sway Figo. We'll handle the rest once he's in England."
Bayga and Futre's grins stretched ear to ear at my words.