"The match is over.Congratulation Milan!""They've reached the Champions League semi-finals for the second consecutive year. After two legs of hard-fought battle, Lyon's European journey ends at San Siro!""Both teams gave us a thrilling match. We wish Milan continued success on their Champions League journey.""Now that they're in the semifinals, the level of competition will rise again, but we believe Milan can maintain their excellent form.""With this match concluded, all the quarterfinal fixtures of the Champions League are complete!""The final four teams are: Arsenal, Barcelona, Villarreal, and AC Milan!""These four clubs will battle for the coveted European crown.""The draw for the semifinals will be held tonight!""Milan's next opponent will be revealed this evening."
San Siro was already in a state of euphoria.
With Milan defeating Lyon to advance to the Champions League semifinals, the fans' emotions had reached a fever pitch.
Even though they knew the semifinals would be even more intense, they had unwavering belief — this was Milan! They feared no one.
They believed the Rossoneri would overcome all obstacles, wash away the humiliation of the past, and deliver even more spectacular performances.
The two legs of the quarterfinals had concluded.
A dull first leg.
Then, in the dying moments of the second leg, Benzema's miraculous goal added some unexpected drama.
But that was all in the past now.
Milan advanced to the semifinals — not without a scare, but safe in the end.
Boom! Boom! Boom!Brilliant fireworks lit up the sky as Milan fans celebrated their team's advance to the Champions League semifinals.
"Just a bit more and we would've gone to extra time!"
"A bit? Are you kidding me?"
"It really was just a bit! If I had played, I'd have bombed them with long shots and surely scored again!" said Duimović with a cocky grin.
Suker laughed, looking at him. "So you've decided?"
"Yeah!" Duimović nodded. "I'll transfer after this season. I've already spoken to the club. A Russian team wants me."
Suker nodded and extended his hand. "See you back in the big leagues soon."
"Just watch!" Duimović laughed as they high-fived and hugged.
Suker also gave Vukojević a hug before seeing them off.
"Suker, over here!"Shevchenko waved at Suker.
"I'm coming!" Suker called out.
At the South Stand of San Siro, the Milan players stood shoulder to shoulder.
Maldini stood front and center, thanking the fans.
He raised his right hand.
The South Stand erupted: "Forza!"
He raised his left hand.
"Milan!"
He clapped.
BOOM! BOOM!The fans raised their arms and roared:
"CHAMPIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!—"
The desire for the title burned on every passionate face.
Suker blinked, watching as Maldini led the players off.
Suddenly, Maldini turned back.
"Where's Suker?"
He wanted to speak to him.
Everyone began to look around.
Finally, they spotted Suker at the front of the South Stand.
There he was, mimicking Maldini, leading the fans in chants.
Though not perfectly in sync, the fans gave Suker face.
"That guy's jealous of your bond with the fans," Shevchenko joked.
Maldini smiled. "Let him lead next time."
Suker stood at the edge of the stands, bouncing and cheering, making fans who were about to leave stop in their tracks and join the celebration.
Banners that had been lowered were raised again. Massive red-and-black flags waved across the stand.
Tens of thousands of fans mimicked Suker's movements, bouncing together like a massive, surging wall of humanity.
Suker was beyond ecstatic.
He jumped over the ad boards and climbed the rail, wanting to join the fans.
As soon as he put one leg over, someone yanked his shorts.
"Get down here!"
Shevchenko had grabbed Suker's shorts tightly.
Suker blinked. "Andriy, just for a sec!"
"Not even a second! Get down!" Shevchenko pleaded, seeing fans rushing over.
Thud!Suddenly, the railing shook, and Suker felt a sharp pain in his stomach as he covered it.
Shevchenko hurriedly caught him.
Gattuso jumped down from the railing, sneering. "What a hassle."
"Butcher!" Suker cursed.
Gattuso didn't flinch.
Suker added, "Ugly butcher!"
Still no reaction.
Suker grinned: "Terrible at fishing!"
"Huh??!" Gattuso's eyes bulged, steam puffing from his nose like an enraged bull.
"What did you say?!"
Suker ran off.
Gattuso began chasing him around the pitch, triggering another wave of wild cheers from the crowd.
Outside San Siro, fans spilled into the streets.
The camera captured their elated, excited faces.
Even though the match was over, the joy hadn't faded.
This was a reporter from the Milan Daily, conducting random fan interviews.
An old man, hair snow-white, clad in a retro Milan jersey, his wrinkled face flushed with excitement.
"If you saw this match, you'd understand one thing — Milan is unbeatable!"
A young man jumped into frame, shouting:
"Forza Milan! What a night! I'm getting hammered tonight!"
"No matter who the opponent is, this Milan fears no one! My God, did you see how they played?! Hahaha!"
An elderly woman, smiling gracefully, pointed at the camera:
"Up front we've got Andriy, Suker, and Kaká. In midfield, Seedorf, Pirlo, Gattuso. At the back, that sweet boy Paolo. We have no reason to lose!"
She laughed and pointed again: "Wash your necks and wait for us!"
"The red and black has swept across Europe! Everyone fears us! Be it Arsenal or Barcelona, we'll beat them! We have no reason to lose!"
"We are Milan! We are the Rossoneri!"
A father, voice trembling with excitement, held his child who raised a tiny fist and shouted:
"Forza!Milan! "
The crowd around them erupted in deafening cheer.
FORZA!!!MILAN!!! ——
In Milan's tactics room, everyone stared at the TV, waiting for the semifinal draw.
The four semifinalists would be drawn and paired, with home and away legs decided as well.
Suker and the others chatted while they waited.
"Who do you think we'll get?" Pirlo asked Suker.
Suker shook his head. "No clue."
Kaká chimed in: "Just not Barcelona. They're a nightmare."
In last year's group stage, Ronaldinho had torn apart Milan's defense almost single-handedly.
Even Milan's attack had been stifled.
"Arsenal isn't easy either," Shevchenko said. "They've been strong this season."
Gattuso added, "It's the semifinals — there are no weak teams. Bring anyone, we're not afraid!"
As Gattuso calmly made his declaration…
Suker and Pirlo began goofing around.
"OHHHH~~~"
"Tusso's so brave~~~"
THUMP THUMP!
"Shut up, you two!"
Gattuso gave them both a smack to shut them up.
"It's starting!"Maldini shouted from the front.
Everyone turned to the screen.
The draw had begun.
The host pulled out the first ball.
Unfolded the paper. It read: "Barcelona."
Silence.
No seeding. No country protection. It was pure chance now.
Barcelona's opponent was revealed — also from La Liga — Villarreal, the Yellow Submarine.
That meant Milan's opponent was:
Arsenal.
Champions League Semifinals Draw:
Barcelona vs. VillarrealArsenal vs. AC Milan
Milan's opponent — the English Premier League's Arsenal, led by the legendary manager Arsène Wenger.
In London, England, at Arsenal's training ground…
Upon seeing the draw, the Arsenal players became slightly somber.
Though there were no weak teams in the semifinals, AC Milan was the one team they had hoped to avoid.
"Alright, the draw's done. Now everyone, get your heads straight. We're preparing for the semifinals," Wenger addressed the team before leaving the tactics room.
Walking to his office, he locked the door, sat down, and lit a cigarette.
Whooosh~~~~A thick cloud of smoke swirled as Wenger slowly calmed himself.
AC Milan…What a troublesome opponent.
Milan's strength was beyond question — and they had further strengthened the squad this season.
And then, there was Suker.
Wenger had always followed Suker's career — perhaps out of regret, or perhaps for other reasons.
Seeing Suker's brilliant performances after joining Milan filled Wenger with deep melancholy.
If only I'd had the budget back then…If Arsenal hadn't spent so much on building a new stadium…Could I have brought Suker in? Coached him myself?
Wenger took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly.
He shook his head.
What was done was done. The past is the past.
Besides, Fàbregas was performing excellently too.
Fàbregas wasn't necessarily any worse than Suker.