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Chapter 232: A Promise Between Men

Italy, Rome.

Summer had arrived, yet Aldrich still donned a suit and carried a medium-sized travel bag as he walked the streets of Rome, occasionally glancing down at the address written on a piece of paper in his hand.

The weather was a bit hot, and he stood at a street corner, putting down his travel bag to wipe the sweat from his forehead with a tissue. He regretted not taking a taxi. After arriving in Italy by train, he had planned to walk for a while in Rome to get some exercise.

The idea seemed good, but he overlooked the sweltering heat.

Just as he was hesitating whether to hail a taxi for the remaining two kilometers, someone suddenly dashed past him from behind in the sparsely populated street, skillfully snatching the travel bag as they brushed against him.

Aldrich was momentarily stunned and instinctively took off running after the thief.

The kid who grabbed his bag looked young and wasn't very fast. Aldrich felt confident: there was no doubt about his physical condition; he could easily outrun anyone! He could run a marathon and still not break a sweat!

But in a sudden rush of adrenaline, the young master foolishly chased the thief into a narrow backstreet. The path was tight, and no one else was around. Aldrich had barely run ten meters when the kid stopped and turned around. Aldrich instantly sensed trouble and quickly pivoted to run back, only to be met with a sight that made him abandon all thoughts of resistance.

Sure enough, the kid had accomplices.

Two people surrounded him, one in front and one behind, brandishing knives.

Damn it!

He had forgotten that even though this wasn't Sicily, street crime rates were notoriously high here.

Surrender it is.

Aldrich's legs felt a bit weak as he worried that an impulsive robber might stab him. So, he raised both hands in a gesture of surrender, not wanting to cry out and provoke the two young men.

The two robbers held their knives, demanding Aldrich pull out his wallet and take off his watch, but they didn't ask for his phone—probably because they didn't see it or had no intention of taking it. After all, those things became outdated fast and were extremely cheap on the streets.

"Hey, mafia man, do me a favor. I'll give you all the money, but please keep my ID and wallet, okay?"

Aldrich spoke in English but quickly realized they didn't seem to understand. So, he repeated it in Italian, but before he could finish, the two guys grabbed his wallet, put on his watch, and ran away with his travel bag.

"Fuck!"

Aldrich reflexively chased after them for a few steps before dejectedly emerging from the alley, sitting alone on the curb, resting his head in his hands as he contemplated what to do next.

Should I call the police?

With no money at all, he thought it best to pull out his phone and ask for help.

Who should he call? Family? That would likely cause an uproar; all his family members might rush to Rome to "comfort" him.

No need to blow things out of proportion.

Maybe he should reach out to a friend instead.

Just as he was about to dial Brady's number, he noticed someone had appeared beside him. He turned his head and was met with a surprised gaze from a familiar face.

"Mr. Hall?"

"De Rossi! I've been searching for you everywhere!"

Aldrich nearly cried from frustration.

Standing next to him, looking astonished, was none other than the person he had come to Rome to find: Daniele De Rossi.

Two years ago, the two had crossed paths, but De Rossi and his father didn't think much of Aldrich, finding him to be a rather arrogant young man.

But now, two years later, Millwall not only had won the Premier League but also made quite a name for themselves in European competitions.

Most importantly, under Aldrich's leadership, players like Zambrotta, Materazzi, Pirlo, and Gattuso had all flourished. Even though Toni hadn't yet found success, introducing five Italian players and seeing four develop significantly was already an incredible feat, reflecting Aldrich's capabilities.

Thus, the De Rossi family began to pay attention to Aldrich, especially young De Rossi, who was captivated by Millwall's style of football.

Now, Aldrich couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief. He was looking for De Rossi, and out of nowhere, he got robbed on the way, only to have De Rossi appear as if he had fallen from the sky.

What kind of magic was this?

"Uh, what are you doing here?" Aldrich asked, somewhat incredulously.

De Rossi pointed in the distance, saying, "I live over there. I was on my way home, and I pass by here almost every day."

Aldrich blinked, letting out a sigh.

"What happened to you?"

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Aldrich sat down and admitted, "I got robbed."

De Rossi joined him on the curb and shrugged, "That happens. If you'd had a few friends with you, the odds of getting robbed in a secluded area would have been lower. Do you need help?"

"What can you do for me? Call the police? Forget it, I don't want to go to the station. It's just a formality."

De Rossi looked skyward for a moment, speaking casually, "What did they steal from you?"

"My travel bag, wallet, and watch. The money doesn't matter; I just want my ID and credit cards. Oh, I almost forgot! Hang on, I need to call and freeze my cards."

Aldrich quickly dialed the bank and froze a few cards that were in his wallet.

"If it's just the documents you want back, that might not be a big deal. If it's anything else of little value, then it's a matter of luck," De Rossi said.

"Why luck?"

"Because it's not worth anything; it was probably already discarded."

"Do you know any robbers around here?"

"Well, let's just say I have some connections. May I use your phone?"

Aldrich obediently handed his phone to De Rossi. After making a call and chatting for a while, De Rossi returned the phone and said, "Now, we wait."

Aldrich looked around before his gaze returned to De Rossi. After a moment of observation, he smiled and said, "You've grown a lot in these two years. Hehe, you've really transformed; you don't look like a kid anymore as you did when we last met."

De Rossi studied Aldrich and asked, "Mr. Hall, I'm curious. Why did you want me on your team when I was still a 'kid' in your eyes? Your team clearly needs players in their prime."

"Aldridge sighed and said, 'But I can't afford stars; I can only develop them myself. You may not believe this, but I have a video on my desk of you playing for a Roma community team as a kid. .I have a brother who is an agent - you met him, came here with me two years ago - and you are one of the gems that he found. Your potential and belief in your future, so I want to take you to London so that you can grow up to be a leading figure at Millwall."

De Rossi's eyes widened in disbelief. "You wanted me to be captain?"

Aldrich waved his hand dismissively. "Not necessarily. Being a captain isn't just about skill; it requires various qualities like influence, unity, charisma, fighting spirit, and role modeling. The strength isn't the only standard. What I mean by 'leading figure' is that, well, in around seven to eight years, you could become a benchmark for players your age—others would aspire to surpass you, and it would be an honor for them to match your skill level. It involves some leadership, too."

De Rossi stroked his chin curiously and asked, "You think so highly of me?"

"Don't you believe you can become a great player?"

"Of course! I dream about it, but it's rare for someone to say that to me. Mr. Hall, I think you're amazing."

Aldrich was used to receiving compliments from others, but being praised face-to-face by the young De Rossi made him feel awkward.

He chuckled awkwardly and asked, "Why do you say that? Just two years ago, the Italian media was mocking me."

De Rossi replied lightly, "In two years, the trophies you've led Millwall to win are equivalent to half of what Roma has achieved in its 70-year history."

Aldrich scratched his head, feeling a bit shy.

In its 70 years, Roma only had two league championships, seven domestic cup championships, along with a former UEFA Cup title.

Although Aldrich's five trophies didn't include a major domestic cup, the back-to-back FA Cup wins and the Premier League and European Winners' Cup titles were still highly esteemed.

"Ah, it's nothing, really. Media outside the UK says the competition in England is weak. Millwall winning titles only shows the decline of traditional powerhouse teams; it doesn't mean we're particularly strong."

"Is that so? Last season, Manchester United made it to the semifinals of the Champions League, and Millwall eliminated the perennial European semifinalist Paris Saint-Germain in the semifinals of the European Winners' Cup, then beat Barcelona in the finals. I watched all those matches; Millwall is strong! The games were incredibly passionate, making your blood boil."

"Aldrich's eyes shifted as he tentatively asked, 'Are you interested in coming to Millwall for football training?'

De Rossi turned to look at him, a teasing smile on his face, and replied, 'You just want me to go to London for football training?'"

Aldrich frowned at the clever kid.

"Honestly, the reason I came to find you today is that I want you to join the Millwall youth team. If you're willing, when you turn 16, I will offer you a professional contract. As long as you're committed, there will always be a place for you at Millwall. You can even retire there if you want..."

"In the end, Aldridge's expression became a little helpless.

De Rossi asked curiously: "What's wrong?"

Aldrich sighed, "I hope to turn Millwall into a super club, but many players lack the patience and confidence. I'm willing to give them everything I have, but every year, someone leaves me. It feels like, well, after spending time preparing a feast, waiting for the woman I love to come and taste it, she just says 'Thanks' and asks me to leave, inviting another man to enjoy the meal with her..."

De Rossi burst out laughing, uncontrollably amused.

Aldrich gazed up at the clouds in the sky, wondering: who could walk with him to the end?

There would be no answers to that question now; only time held the answer.

De Rossi stood up, dusting off his pants, and said, "Mr. Hall, I've made up my mind. I'm going to Millwall. Are you thirsty? I'll buy you a bottle of water. When you have money, treat me to a big meal."

Aldrich was taken aback. It wasn't until De Rossi crossed the street to buy a drink from the store opposite that he came to his senses, opened his arms and shouted: "Hey, boy, you'd better not go back on your word!" This is a promise between men! '"

He was genuinely worried the kid was just messing with him.

De Rossi turned back with a frown. "Stop that; it looks silly! Don't worry, I'm not joking. You, just robbed—can we not talk about 'men' right now?"

Aldrich was rendered speechless, completely stunned.