"Do you have any idea how I feel right now?"

  After the match, in an office at S?o Paulo Stadium, Mourinho sat across from Gao Shen, looking at him with rese.

  If he hadn't seen Gao Shen pull out a box of expensive wine, each bottle worth a small fortune and offer them to him as a gift, he would have been even more annoyed.

  For the sake of this fine wine, I'll tolerate this!

  Even so, his toill carried deep frustration. After all, he had just lost the match.

  Inter Min had dominated possession and pressed forward relentlessly in the first half. But as soon as the sed half started, Napoli suddenly turned up the iy, ung a relentless assault that forced Inter Min into a defeance.

  Then, ih minute, Gao Shen made his move, substituting i into the game. Just eight mier, the Uruguayan striker capitalized on a pinpoint assist from Di María and fired home the opening goal for Napoli.

  And then came the most infuriating part.

  The moment Napoli took the lead, they immediately dropped bad parked the bus!

  Inter Min threw everything forward in a desperate bid to equalize, but no matter how hard they pushed, they couldn't find a ast Napoli's defense.

  Mourinho was so furious on the sidelihat he nearly lost it. He felt like he had been pletely outpyed by Gao Shen.

  Damn it! First, you borrow my tactics to train your team, and now you don't even do me a favor iurn? That's just cruel!

  Right after the match, Mourinho stormed off, ready to front Gao Shen and demand answers. But before he could get a word in, Gao Shen casually pulled out a box of top-shelf wine and practically bribed him on the spot.

  So now, here they were Mourinho still fuming, but at least venting his frustrations ood drink.

  "Go o all out," Gao Shen said, ever the patient listener.

  Winning the game was ohing, but he couldly stop Mourinho from pining about it, could he?

  Mourinho swirled the wine in his gss, took a sip, then clicked his tongue and sighed internally. Damn, this is good stuff. But, of course, he wasn't about to admit that out loud.

  "This wine… eh, it's not that great," he muttered with feigned disdain.

  Gao Shen chuckled inwardly but didn't call him out on it.

  He knew Mourinho too well, this guy always said ohing but meant another. It wasn't anything new.

  So, he simply waited.

  Mourinho still had plenty more to get off his chest.

  Sure enough, after p himself anss, the Puese coach let out a long, heavy sigh.

  "You know what? I feel like a damn hostess at a karaoke bar," he grumbled. "I spent the whole night eaining you, singing my heart out, drinking with you and in the end, instead of tipping me, you robbed me blind! Tell me, doesn't that make you feel even a little guilty?"

  Gao Shen burst out ughing.

  "Alright, alright, I'll take the bme for this one. My bad," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

  His immediate admission of guilt threw Mourinho off for a moment.

  After a brief pause, Mourinho took another sip of wine before shaking his head.

  "You really are my nemesis. You always make my life difficult."

  At this point, the situation was crystal clear.

  Before this match, Inter Min had been five points behind Napoli iandings. But after this loss, the gap had wideo eight points.

  With only five rounds left in the Serie A season, a-point deficit was almost impossible to overe.

  In other words, Napoli had practically sealed the title.

  They were on the verge of being the first team from southern Italy to ever defend the Serie A championship successfully.

  Acc to the Italian media, this would be a defining moment in football history ohat could permaly shift the bance of power in Italian football.

  But for Mourinho, it was nothing short of a nightmare.

  Inter Min had poured signifit resources intthening the squad, yet the results still weren't showing.

  "In all hoy, your squad just needed more time to gel this season," Gao Shen said, some words of encement. "I believe that with a bit more refi in your tactid lineup season, you'll be even stronger."

  Inter Min's squad was undeniably stacked.

  If there was one issue holding them back, it was Ibrahimovi?'s insistency.

  The Swedish striker was a double-edged sword his presence could elevate a team's ceiling, but at the same time, his uability could limit it as well.

  And that… was a tricky problem to solve.

  Of course, he has to be used, but if he isn't used properly, it could be disastrous.

  This situation is actually quite simir to Eto'o at Bara.

  There's no doubt about Eto'o's ability, he's a fantastic pyer. But pying as a tral striker? That's a challenge.

  Eto'o is a poacher, an instinctive goal-scorer. He doesn't have the hold-up py to battle against tral defenders, nor is he the type to link up py between the fnks. This makes using him as a ter-forward somewhat tradictory.

  A team like Bara thrives on quick transitions and sharp terattacks, but positional py is just as crucial.

  In fact, because they dominate possession so heavily, they often spend most of their time pying positional football.

  Lately, Guardio has taken a different approach, shifting Messi to the ter while movio'o to the wing.

  Surprisingly, it has worked eveer than havio'o as the tral striker.

  In Gao Shen's previous life, after leaving Bara, Eto'o moved to Inter Min, where he also pyed out wide, with Diego Milito leading the line.

  Some things are just difficult. If something doesn't fit, it doesn't fit, you 't force it.

  Gao Shen couldn't help but wonder, will Guardio still sign Ibrahimovi? in this life?

  Should he try to talk him out of it?

  …

  "Have you figured out how to deal with Maer United?" Mourinho asked.

  Gao Shen shook his head. "Not yet."

  Mourinho chuckled. He wouldn't admit it, but part of him enjoyed seeing Gao Shen struggle.

  Between Gao Shen and Ferguson, he was more ined to bet on Ferguson. The old man was just too ing.

  "It's normal," Mourinho said. "Anyone who faces Ferguson's Maer United ends up with a headache. No one really knows how to py against them. The only other team that causes that kind of trouble is Liverpool but they're not doing so well right now."

  With that, Mourinho unched into a series of stories about his cshes with legendary managers during his time in the Premier League.

  Right now, the Premier League was experieng a golden era, making it the ultimate proving ground for head coaches.

  Ferguson's Maer United, Wenger's Arsenal, Benítez's Liverpool, Moyes' Everton, Martin O'Neill's Aston Vil, Redknapp's Tottenham…

  Looking back, Mourinho had to admit, he missed the relentless, suffog iy of the Premier League.

  "It felt like being on a battlefield," he described.

  Serie A had its own pressures, but coag in Engnd was airely different experiehing like La Liga either.

  Gao Shen took the opportunity to ask a few questions. He articurly curious about Mourinho's thoughts on Ferguson and his Maer United.

  "How do I put this?"

  Mourinho tilted his head slightly, thought for a moment, then said, "I admire him. I really do. His ability to adapt, his deep uanding of football tactics, his absolute trol over the team, it's unbelievable."

  "When you go up against him, you have to be at your absolute best. You 't leave a single opening, because if you do, he'll find it and he'll hit you where it hurts the most."

  After a brief pause, Mourinho added, "I think you should sider pressing them for the full 90 minutes."

  Gao Shen shook his head. "Too risky. Cristiano Ronaldo is lethal on the ter, and with Carrick sitting deep, it could be a disaster."

  "United's terattacks don't always start with Ronaldo," Mourinho pointed out. "He actually struggles when he's put under defensive pressure, always has. But yes, his pace is frightening."

  "You're right," Gao Shen nodded. "Carrieeds to be shut down. We 't give him any room to dictate py."

  He recalled reading an old quote—either from Xavi or Ia—saying that if there was one pyer from Maer United who could walk into Bara's midfield, it was Carrick.

  That alone spoke volumes about the Englishman's quality and tactical intelligence.

  "Are you thinking about pying a defensive terattack?" Mourinho asked.

  Gao Sheated, then shook his head. "I don't know yet. I haven't figured it out." He let out a dry chuckle.

  Mourinho burst into ughter. "That's normal. You're up against a man who's been in this game for decades. How old are you again?"

  "From tonight's match, I have to say, I do trust our defense," Gao Shen admitted. "But as you pointed out, Ferguson always has something ued up his sleeve. I feel like sitting bad tering might be too passive. United's defense is one of the best in Europe."

  "Exactly!" Mourinho nodded. "So, you're walking a fine line here. You o judge it for yourself."

  Gao Shen uood. Some things could only be truly learhrough experiehers could offer advice, but at the end of the day, execution was everything.

  Many tactical principles sounded simple on paper, but applying them effectively was aory entirely.

  Ferguson had built his legacy by mastering the basid pushing them to the absolute limit.

  That… was the mark of a true grandmaster.

  "You also o get a handle on Ibrahimovi?," Gao Shen added as a final thought. "Right now, he's like a wild horse that's broken free. If you rein him in, he'll be a lethal on. If you 't, he'll bee a major liability."

  Inter Min's best ce of the night had fallen to Ibrahimovi?, but he had squa.

  As a striker, he was an enigma, a source of both admiration and frustration.

  Mourinho smirked. "I still remember the first time I met Ferguson after arriving in the Premier League from Pal. The old man gave me a few words of advice that I still think about to this day."

  Gao Shen listetentively.

  "In a team, if a pyer is bigger than the manager, he should be the oo leave, without hesitation."

  "If a manager is coag pyers who refuse to listen, and there are no sequences for it, then it's the manager who should go."

  Mourinho chuckled. "For now, I still yell at them!"

  Gao Shen smiled and nodded. "Then I wish you good luck."

  "You too." Mouriended a hand, shaking Gao Shen's firmly before tinuing, "Ferguson is a mo standing in front of all of us. He deserves respect, but och, that respect means nothing."

  "I believe the best way to respect Ferguson… is to beat him."

  "As I said earlier, his ability to learn and adapt is frightening. The moment you defeat him, you awaken his petitive fire. He'll e back strorying everything possible to get revenge."

  "So don't hold back. Give him a real beating. No mercy!"

  Mourinho's words were a mix of truth and mischief, as if he was eager to stir up chaos.

  But Gao Shen could hear the siy behind them.

  Ferguson was no ordinary oppo.

  Beating him… would be anything but easy.