Chapter 229: [229] "HOUSE 1"

The remainder of the training session flowed with renewed energy. The squad drilled the asymmetrical shift relentlessly. Gabriel tracked back on the right, locking down the channel alongside Aubert. Zack held the left flank alone, destroying overloads with intelligent jockeying.

When possession turned over, the transition was devastating. Dário received the outlet passes in acres of space, driving at the reserve defense before they could organize. Luc anchored the center, pinning the center-backs and providing the gravity required to keep the passing lanes open for Hugo.

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By one o’clock, the players were spent. Their kits were soaked in sweat despite the cool temperature.

Henri blew three long blasts on the whistle, signaling the end of the session.

"Ice baths. Medical checks. Hydrate," Henri commanded. "Be prepared."

The squad dragged themselves off the grass, the satisfaction of a solved tactical crisis outweighing the physical exhaustion.

Luc navigated the post-training protocol with efficient speed. He plunged into the freezing water of the recovery tubs, cleared his final joint assessment with Detone, and showered quickly.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and exited the main building, walking out into the parking lot. The afternoon sun had finally burned through the overcast clouds, casting a bright light over the rows of expensive vehicles.

Luc reached his black Porsche. He unlocked the doors, tossing his bag into the trunk. He leaned against the driver’s side door, checking the time on his phone. It was two-twenty.

The sound of footsteps crunching against the asphalt drew his attention.

Hugo Blanc walked across the parking lot. Kid was dressed in a clean, minimalist tracksuit, his gym bag strapped securely across his chest. His posture was perfect, betraying none of the exhaustion from the grueling morning session.

Hugo stopped at the passenger side of the Porsche. He looked across the roof of the car, meeting Luc’s gaze.

"I’m ready," Hugo said.

Luc steered the vehicle out of the Sporting Club Valois training complex, the security gates sliding shut in his rearview mirror.

His right leg rested comfortably against the accelerator.

In the passenger seat, Hugo Blanc was already locked in. The seventeen-year-old midfielder had his seatbelt fastened perfectly flat across his chest. His finger scrolled down a document on his tablet, his eyes tracking the text line by line.

Luc watched the city landscape transition from the outskirts of the training ground to the more polished, tree-lined avenues of the residential districts. He merged onto the main road heading west, settling into the flow of mid-afternoon traffic.

"So," Luc broke the silence, keeping his eyes on the road. "Are we going to talk about the shifts Henri made today, or are we going to talk about the fact that you’re currently wearing cologne to a real estate viewing?"

Hugo stopped scrolling and blinked, before slowly shifting his gaze to the driver’s seat.

"Isn’t that just standard grooming," Hugo stated, his voice calm. "It projects professionalism. Real estate agents make rapid assessments based on visuals to determine a buyer’s financial capacity."

"Right," Luc smirked, tapping the steering wheel to the rhythm of the turn signal. "It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that you met up with or might still meet that waitress. The one who practically paralyzed you at the cafe."

Hugo looked back at his tablet, though his finger didn’t resume scrolling. An almost imperceptible shift occurred in his posture. The maestro of the Valois midfield suddenly looked like a seventeen-year-old boy.

"How are things progressing? Did you actually manage to string full sentences together, or did you just stare at her?"

"I think I did really well during our last interaction," Hugo defended himself, though the defensive edge lacked any real venom. "We did a few fun things last time. A date, as you would classify it. I used the knowledge from my previous failures to adjust my approach. I selected a neutral environment and everything."

Luc let out a laugh, shaking his head. "You took her to a library or something?"

"An art gallery," Hugo corrected.

Luc glanced over, genuinely impressed by the logic the kid applied to romance. "And? Did it yield results?"

Hugo paused. He tapped the edge of the tablet against his knee. "I learnt she’s studying economics."

"Economics," Luc repeated. "Nice."

"She understands me well," Hugo explained, his voice gaining a slight, animated tempo that rarely surfaced on the training pitch. "When we sat down for coffee afterward, she didn’t ask me about football or the media. She asked me how I manage the stress outside of the pitch. We spent forty-five minutes discussing things that didn’t really make sense but I think I enjoyed it."

Luc gripped the steering wheel, trying hard not to burst out laughing.

"That sounds nice, Hugo. Really," Luc said, letting the amusement soften into support. "It’s good to have someone who keeps you conoany outside of the field. The bubble we live in can make you crazy."

Hugo looked out the passenger window, watching the expensive storefronts blur past. "I find her presence... wonderful. I don’t have to mask my analytical tendencies. She actually prefers them."

He hesitated, the reflection of the passing city catching in his eyes. "I might actually like her, Luc."

"I’m glad, man," Luc smiled, taking a left turn into a heavily shaded, affluent neighborhood. "Just remember that humans aren’t always logical. She’s going to do things that don’t make sense, and you’re going to have to adapt. But if she can handle you, I think you’re in good hands."

The Porsche navigated through the winding streets of the district. The layout shifted from modern high-rises to gated estates hidden behind high stone walls and dense privacy hedges. They were well within Valérie Laurent’s mandated twenty-minute driving radius from her own residence.

Luc pulled the car up to a set of massive iron gates. He rolled the window down and shouted.

"Blanc, should be scheduled," Luc announced to the speaker beside the gate.

The gates swung inward silently. Luc drove the car up a long driveway paved with dark cobblestones, his car’s tires crunching softly before coming to a halt in front of an ultra-modern property.