Scoring a hat-trick against Real Madrid drastically altered the trajectory of Shane Carter's daily life.
"I'm heading out to training!"
Shane called out toward his parents' closed bedroom door.
Silence.
No response.
He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.
Their main account is officially a bust, so they're working hard on an alt account, huh?
He grabbed his duffel bag off the sofa.
Walking down the stairs of his apartment building, he unlocked his trusty steed—a Giant road bicycle.
The undisputed midfield core of Atlético Madrid's last four matches didn't even own a car. Well, it wasn't exactly that he couldn't afford a cheap used one; it was just that a road bike was far more cost-effective right now.
Pedaling down the street, Shane immediately noticed the difference. Far more people were waving and shouting his name.
Ever since his La Liga debut, his local recognition in Madrid had steadily climbed.
But the scene waiting for him down the road today was entirely unprecedented.
"Hey! Hey, Shane! I'm a scout from England. Here's my card! My club would be extremely interested in speaking with you!"
"Shane! Shane! Do you have representation yet? Do you need an agent?!"
"Mr. Carter..."
A chaotic swarm of people descended upon him the moment he hit the main intersection.
"Holy shit..."
Shane felt a cold sweat break out on his scalp.
The "side effects" of scoring a hat-trick against Real Madrid were this violently immediate?
He slammed his feet onto the pedals, stood up off the saddle, and accelerated hard, swerving through the crowd and speeding down the avenue.
The horde of agents, scouts, and grifters chased after him for a block before fading into the distance.
Agents offering unsolicited representation.
Scouts whispering sweet nothings.
And a dozen other people with hidden agendas trying to leach onto his rising star.
Shane wasn't naive. He knew that as his fame grew, this circus was only going to multiply exponentially.
"Maybe I really do need to get my driver's license and buy a car..."
He muttered to himself as he pedaled toward the training complex.
"But before I can buy a car... I need to sign an actual professional contract."
For Shane...
At the very least, he had absolutely no intention of leaving Atlético Madrid this season.
At his current stage of development, chasing a massive, multi-million-euro contract at a super-club was infinitely less important than securing guaranteed minutes—especially guaranteed minutes as the absolute tactical core of a top-tier team.
Shane saw the reality clearly.
Of all the global giants currently trying to contact him...
Not a single one could legitimately promise him a guaranteed starting spot.
The reason they were currently swarming him like sharks smelling blood in the water wasn't purely because of his spectacular performances.
There was a massive secondary factor:
He was cheap.
Because he wasn't legally bound by a senior professional contract.
This meant...
Any acquiring club would only have to pay a statutorily mandated youth training compensation fee.
And that meager fee would be split between CD Santa Ana, Real Madrid, and Atlético Madrid.
The total cost to acquire him would absolutely not exceed three hundred thousand euros.
Therefore.
Signing him required practically zero financial risk for a super-club.
It didn't even matter if he immediately fit into their first team.
They would just hoard him. Buy him for pennies, loan him out, and see what happened.
But Shane didn't care about the superficial prestige of joining a super-club right now.
To him, whether a club was a "Galáctico" brand or not made very little difference to his immediate needs.
He needed to play. He needed to evolve. He would absolutely not transfer away from Atlético right now, sacrificing his established status as the tactical core just to sit on a more expensive bench.
Whenever he eventually did leave Atlético...
He was going to leave as an undisputed king, not a lottery ticket.
Therefore.
Signing a professional contract with Atlético Madrid was objectively the best mathematical choice.
But before he could sign anything...
He desperately needed a professional agent.
Today was actually a scheduled rest day for the squad, and Shane hadn't gone to the training center for extra drills.
Instead, he pedaled to a quiet, upscale café in the city center.
Waiting for him at a corner table...
Was his teammate, Radamel Falcao.
And sitting next to Falcao was his agent: Jorge Mendes.
Brokered entirely by Falcao, Shane had agreed to a private, introductory meeting with arguably the most famous and powerful football agent in Europe.
Shane actually had dozens of options. Over the last three days, nearly every major agency on the continent had desperately tried to contact him.
Securing professional representation was the easiest thing in the world for a player of his current profile.
But that was exactly the problem.
The relationship between a player and their agent was dangerously intimate.
In many cases, an agent controlled almost every aspect of a player's financial and professional life.
And every single year, the tabloids were filled with horror stories of players having vicious, public fallouts with their representatives over stolen money, bad advice, or ruined transfers.
Therefore...
If he had to choose an agent...
Why not just choose the absolute biggest shark in the ocean?
If hiring an agent was a blind box, he might as well open the most expensive, premium brand available.
"Hello, Shane. I am Jorge Mendes."
Seeing Shane approach the table, Mendes immediately stood up, extending a hand and flashing a perfectly calibrated, charismatic smile.
Despite his colossal fame and power within the industry...
At his core, Mendes was still a service provider.
The players were his employers.
Especially a player possessing Shane's terrifying, boundless ceiling.
For a generational prospect like this, Mendes would never send an underling. He handled it personally.
Looking at the teenager walking toward him, Mendes didn't just see a footballer.
He saw a literal money tree, glowing with the golden aura of hundreds of millions of euros.
An American-Chinese prodigy. An elite, world-class talent playing the most glamorous position on the pitch.
What was his ultimate commercial ceiling?
Even Mendes's vast imagination struggled to calculate the final number.
"Hello."
Shane shook his hand firmly.
Falcao smiled from the side. "Alright. My job as the middleman is officially complete. I will leave you two to talk business."
Falcao gestured for them to sit, then turned and walked out of the café.
Once Falcao was gone...
Mendes cut straight to the chase.
"Shane, I imagine you have reached the critical juncture where you must negotiate a senior contract with Atlético. Navigating this process requires an elite, highly specialized team protecting your interests... and frankly, there is no brand in world football more professional or capable than Gestifute."
Shane leaned back in his chair.
Damn.
Mendes really did sound exactly like a high-end used car salesman.
But it made sense.
The man had built his empire from absolutely nothing, starting as a nightclub owner and video store clerk before conquering the football world.
"Mr. Mendes, I am well aware that Gestifute is the most powerful agency in Europe. If I were to sign with you, exactly how would your company operate on my behalf right now?"
"I know your most pressing, immediate concern is securing your professional contract," Mendes smiled smoothly. "I will personally negotiate the most lucrative, commanding contract possible for you."
"With Atlético Madrid?"
"Of course. Because I absolutely do not recommend a mid-season transfer. Yes, forcing a move right now might secure you a slightly higher initial wage package elsewhere. But long-term, disrupting your current momentum would be detrimental to your career," Mendes analyzed sharply. "As an elite player... your club salary is only one component of your wealth. Eventually, it will become the minority component. Therefore... contract negotiations must primarily focus on elevating and protecting your global image rights and personal brand."
Shane nodded slowly.
It was true. The general public rarely adored players perceived as nakedly greedy mercenaries.
There were countless players with massive talent who actively destroyed their own commercial viability by constantly forcing toxic transfers and demanding extortionate wages, alienating fanbases and sponsors alike.
For players with elite commercial value, their revenue streams looked vastly different from average professionals.
Take Mendes's crown jewel, Cristiano Ronaldo, for example.
Ronaldo's commercial empire was currently expanding at a terrifying rate.
In 2011, Ronaldo's total global earnings exceeded thirty million euros.
His actual salary from Real Madrid accounted for roughly one-third of that total—and that percentage would only continue to shrink as his brand grew.
Therefore...
For a true global superstar...
Meticulously managing their public image and commercial portfolio was infinitely more lucrative than fighting over an extra fifty thousand euros a week in club wages.
"Shane, if you agree to partner with Gestifute, I will immediately place you on our highest-tier service agreement. You will receive the exact same level of representation, legal counsel, and commercial development as José Mourinho and Cristiano Ronaldo."
"You will have a dedicated, elite team working exclusively for you. Given your unique background and limitless potential... you are on track to become the most commercially valuable footballer on the planet..."
It had to be said.
Mendes was an absolute master at painting the dream.
After a long, detailed conversation regarding strategy and vision...
Shane made his decision. He agreed to sign with Gestifute.
Mendes beamed, shaking Shane's hand vigorously. "Shane, you will never regret this decision. I guarantee you, I will make you the wealthiest footballer in the history of the sport!"
"Whether I become the wealthiest player in history is a conversation for later. Right now, what I need is a professional contract with Atlético Madrid," Shane replied practically.
"Consider it done. I will resolve this immediately."
Mendes smiled confidently.
...
Back at the Vicente Calderón...
The Atlético Madrid executives were, naturally, desperate to lock Shane down to a senior contract.
They were infinitely more anxious about the situation than Shane was.
In fact, before Shane had even sat down with Mendes...
Atlético had already drafted a formal contract offer.
The terms were relatively straightforward: a five-year deal, an annual salary of two million euros, a guaranteed 10% year-on-year wage increase, and a performance bonus structure mirroring Radamel Falcao's.
Two million euros a year was not astronomical in the broader context of elite European football.
But within Atlético's wage structure, it was a very significant commitment.
The vast majority of Atlético's starting eleven earned roughly one million euros a year.
When Sergio Agüero transferred out of the club last summer...
His final salary at Atlético had only been three million euros a year.
And the moment he signed with Manchester City, he was instantly handed a staggering two hundred thousand pounds a week.
When it came to pure financial muscle...
Atlético Madrid simply could not compete with the oil states and the historic super-clubs.
This was the fundamental, inescapable reason they constantly lost their best players.
The only way Atlético could retain top talent was if the player genuinely valued the club's environment and believed they could achieve significant sporting glory without taking a massive pay cut compared to the elite teams.
Otherwise, given Atlético's historically erratic, half-dead performances over the last few seasons, no true superstar would ever willingly commit the prime years of their career to the Calderón.
Atlético's CEO, Miguel Ángel Gil Marín, genuinely believed...
That the contract he had drafted was full of "sincerity."
He assumed a seventeen-year-old kid wouldn't be overly critical of a two-million-euro starting salary.
Furthermore...
Atlético Madrid possessed a stellar reputation regarding player sales. They never held players hostage.
If a player proved their worth, and a super-club arrived with a fair offer...
Atlético never created unnecessary obstacles.
As long as the money was right, anyone could be negotiated for, and anyone could be sold.
Atlético's reputation in this regard was pristine across Europe. Departures were almost always amicable.
So Shane had no reason to fear that a five-year contract would trap him in Madrid against his will.
Gil Marín was highly confident that the negotiations would be swift and painless.
But the exact moment the contract was finalized and printed...
Jorge Mendes walked through his office door.
And calmly announced that he was now the exclusive representative for Shane Carter.
Hearing those words, the color drained from Gil Marín's face.
He knew instantly...
That these negotiations were not going to be swift, painless, or cheap.
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