Zachary followed Coach Bjørn through a narrow corridor, up the stairs, into Coach Johansen's office on the second floor.

"Have a seat," said Coach Johansen. He pointed to one of the elegant sofas opposite his desk.

"Thank you," Zachary replied as he sank into the sofa. Coach Bjørn was seated on a padded stool next to Coach Johansen's desk, maintaining his silence.

Zachary let his eyes take in his surroundings. The office, painted with a light shade of grey, had a single massive floor-to-ceiling window facing the training grounds. In one corner, an air conditioner blasted at low settings. It brought in the air from outside, giving off a fresh breeze. To its left stood a wooden cabinet with glass doors. Through the glass, Zachary could see several trophies lined up on its shelves.

"So, how are you finding life here in Norway," Coach Johansen inquired, half-smiling. He placed his hands on his grey desk. Beside him sat a desktop computer, an open notebook, and a stack of papers held down by a ball-shaped paperweight. At the far corner of the uncluttered desk stood a framed photograph of a red-haired teenage girl, probably the coach's daughter.

"I'm doing well," Zachary replied politely. "The training facilities here are quite remarkable. However, I haven't taken part in enough matches to practice my skills." He added, voice taking on a dubious tone.

Zachary needed more official matches to gain match experience—and, of course, system Juju-points. He had realized that he could earn 30 or more points from system missions in each game, depending on his performance.

He wanted to take part in more games to rack up points and purchase high-grade elixirs to improve his physical fitness.

Coach Johansen folded his arms across his chest, maintaining his half-smile. "That's one of the reasons I called you in here. I can promise that in a few months, you'll get a lot of match time. You'll get the chance to play against other academies from the rest of Europe."

"You mean the Riga Cup?"

"Yes." Coach Johansen nodded. "This time, I have struck a deal with the Rosenborg officials. You can join the squads heading for the Riga and SIA cups. But on one condition."

Zachary met the coach's gaze and spoke quietly. "And that is?"

Just then, the door opened behind him. Heavy footsteps moved into the room. "You started without me?" Murmured a deep voice, in a tone laced with a tinge of disapproval.

"Sorry, Mr. Malvik." Coach Johansen stood up and extended a hand to the new stranger. "But you are late. No worries, though. We were simply answering some of Zachary's questions while awaiting your arrival."

Zachary was confused. Was there supposed to be someone else present during the meeting? He turned to his side and observed the new arrival. He was a middle-aged blonde man in an elegant suit with the standard-issue Norwegian face, ubiquitous square shoulders, and a square chin. He looked like the stereotypical office type and seemed to have mastered his look of confidence as a money-making skill.

The stranger took Coach Johansen's hand and smiled. "Pardon me, coach. I came rushing here right out of court. How is your morning, by the way?" He asked, settling down on the sofa beside Zachary.

"Fine," Coach Johansen replied, sitting back down. "I guess you remember my assistant, Coach Bjørn?" He cocked his head to one side, observing the man.

"Yes, yes," the stranger said, turning towards the other coach in the room. "Good morning, to you?"

"Good morning." Coach Bjørn nodded at the stranger, smiling.

The two coaches were behaving in-a-way that reminded Zachary of locals back home greeting a delegate visiting their village. They were very polite and formal, which was out of character. Zachary concluded that the stranger must be someone in an important position.

"And this young one here is Zachary Bemba." Coach Johansen introduced him last. "He's the player we were talking about."

"Nice to meet you, young man," the stranger said, turning and extending his hand to Zachary. "I'm Daniel Malvik, one of the legal advisors of Rosenborg. I've heard a lot about you." He smiled kindly.

Zachary shook his hand. "Nice to meet you too." He turned towards Coach Johansen, his brows raised questioningly.

"No need to worry," Coach Johansen replied, waving his hand. "We are here to talk about some possibilities for your future. Let's wait for Mr. Stein before we continue our talk."

Zachary was surprised that even Mr. Stein was attending. He had initially thought he would only talk briefly with Coach Johansen before returning to his training. However, the importance of the meeting had exceeded his expectations.

They didn't have to wait long. Mr. Stein soon arrived—and the meeting began.

"Okay, gentlemen," Mr. Daniel Malvik said, after clearing his throat. "I don't like to beat about the bush. Let's get to business right away."

He turned towards Zachary. "Young man, I represent the club. I'm just here to seek a commitment from you and your representatives."

"What kind of commitment?" Zachary inquired, stealing a glance at Coach Johansen. He wondered whether the commitment was the condition he needed to fulfill before joining the academy teams heading to Riga and Valencia.

Mr. Malvik smiled. "To put it simply, we need to put you under contract," he said, pulling out a few papers from his briefcase.

"I'll speak bluntly," he continued. "You are an asset that the club is developing. That is, of course, as a talented football player. Correct?"

Zachary nodded. He could understand the lawyer's logic. Rosenborg was pumping money to maintain his stay in Trondheim and turning him into a professional soccer player.

"However, you are not under any contract. The moment you turn 18, any other club could come and snatch you away without paying any transfer fees. We don't want to see that happening. That's why we are offering you a contract at an earlier date."

"What about the FIFA regulations?" Zachary had nothing against signing a contract with Rosenborg. He wanted to play for the club that had brought him to Europe for a year or two. But, he had no intention of taking part in breaking any of the rules of FIFA.

Mr. Malvik smiled, nodding at the rest of the men in the office. "I'm glad your attitude isn't strongly opposed to signing for the club," he said. "You don't have to worry about the FIFA rules. We need you to sign something uncomplicated—to ensure that you are with us after leaving the academy next year. To make certain that FIFA doesn't catch on, you'll have to sign an NDA, of course." He explained.

"Just give me the contract and give me a moment to decide," Zachary interrupted. He didn't want to spend his whole day listening to the terms of the contract.

"Okay, here you go." Mr. Malvik handed him two sets of papers.

Zachary quickly started reading through. One set was a four-page contract committing Zachary to play for Rosenborg BK right after his eighteenth birthday. He would have to stay at the club for three years before moving on to greener pastures—that is, if he signed the document. The second was a Non-Disclosure Agreement. It committed Zachary to not divulging the contract terms to anyone else—aside from the people present in that room.

"I'll only sign if you reduce the duration I have to play for Rosenborg to two years," Zachary said, locking gazes with the lawyer.

"Done." The lawyer smiled, picking up another set of papers from his open briefcase. He then handed them to Zachary.

Zachary was perplexed as he received the papers. He wondered why the lawyer had been so quick to agree to his bargain.

[Did I miss anything in the contract?]

He read through the new contract, word by word. The others left him to his own devices and started conversing among themselves in Norwegian.

Zachary did not mind since he was already tired of being the center of attention in the room. He continued reading and quickly discovered that there wasn't any monetary remuneration from the Rosenborg team until he was 18 years. According to the terms, Zachary would only receive another contract at the end of the following year. That was before he joined the first-team roster.

After reading through, he weighed the pros and cons of the contract. If he didn't sign, the Rosenborg officials would remain wary of him. They wouldn't allow him to enter the international youth competitions like the Riga Cup. Zachary would then be hard-pressed to rack up any Juju points, thereby slowing down his progress.

However, if he did sign, he would only have to stay at Rosenborg for two years. After that, he would be free to go anywhere he wanted and play in the rest of Europe. But who knows? Maybe, he would perform well and garner the attention of the big clubs before then. Zachary wouldn't believe that Rosenborg would resist a transfer deal of more than 15 Million US Dollars. Their record transfer was less than 3 Million US Dollars at that moment.

"I will sign," he announced after deliberating.

The rest of the three men turned towards him, their eyebrows lifted in expressions of blank surprise. It seemed like they had not expected him to agree right away.

"Have you finished considering?" Mr. Malvik asked.

"Yes." Zachary nodded.

"Okay, then." The lawyer smiled.