Marco straightened slightly, alert.
"We're prepared," Schneider continued, "to offer a package that reflects both his talent and potential. A salary that starts at a base comparable to our top young internationals."
Weiss picked up from there, his voice lowering as if to emphasize every syllable. "With bonuses and performance clauses, he could make 8 million euros per year—" He paused, then looked directly at Lukas.
"Net."
* * *
They stood, exchanged polite goodbyes, and bowed slightly as the sliding door opened. The two Bayern representatives lingered with business smiles, promising to stay in touch. The night air outside the restaurant was crisp, the kind that carried the faint scent of rain and sakura leaves.
Inside the car, the silence was thick at first — the kind that followed important conversations. The driver started the engine, and the city lights rolled past the windows in soft streaks.
Marco finally spoke, his tone casual but probing.
