CHAPTER 144: BOCHUM

The line clicked off, leaving the room silent again — except for the persistent buzz of notifications still pouring in. Lukas set his phone down on the couch, staring at it for a few seconds before sitting beside it, running a hand through his hair.

His messages were a storm — teammates sending fire emojis, question marks, laughing reactions, voice notes. A few were just texts that said "115 MILLION?!"

He let out a quiet breath, half a chuckle, half disbelief.

The most popular person in Frankfurt, maybe in all of Germany tonight, sat alone in his apartment — caught between the noise of the football world outside and the quiet of his own thoughts.

* * *

The next morning. Saturday March 15, 2025.

"Ohhh!! Mr. 115 million. Welcome to our humble club," Larsson teased as Lukas stepped into the tactics room and sat down beside him, causing some players around to break out into a chuckle.

"Hahaha... Very funny, man," Lukas said with a deadpan expression. "I’m just as surprised as you."

"Atletico Madrid? Manchester City? Bayern Munich? Our Lukas is going places!" Knauff said as he stretched his hands from behind and rubbed Lukas’s hair.

"Get your grubby hands off me, Ansgar," Lukas said as he pushed Knauff’s hand away while the latter laughed.

"Enough. Stop teasing the kid," Trapp, the captain, turned around and said.

"Ahh, where’s the fun in that, Capitan?" Uzun asked. He was sitting on the opposite side of Lukas.

"Et tu, Can?" Lukas asked, with an exaggerated expression of utter shock.

The door swung open, and the chatter in the tactics room quickly began to die down. Players straightened in their seats, laughter fading into the sound of shuffling papers and chairs.

Dino Toppmöller walked in, his sharp eyes scanning the room with that calm but unmistakable authority that made even the loudest of personalities fall silent. He set his tablet on the front desk and adjusted his black tracksuit jacket.

"I see we’re in good spirits this morning," he said dryly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That’s good. I like it when the energy’s high."

He paused, glancing toward Lukas, who shifted slightly under the coach’s gaze.

"But let’s keep the focus where it belongs. I know you’ve all seen the headlines. Some of you might even be texting your agents already," he said, half-joking but half-serious. "Ignore it. All of it. Transfer talk, speculation — it’s noise. Our job is tomorrow. Galatasaray is behind us; Mainz is ahead."

A murmur of agreement went around the room. Lukas gave a small nod, his expression now focused.

Toppmöller picked up the remote and turned toward the big screen at the front of the room. "Good. Now let’s move on to the analysis. I want full attention — especially on their pressing patterns and our transitions. No more headlines, no more jokes. Let’s get to work."

The lights dimmed slightly as the first clips began to play. The laughter from moments ago was gone, replaced by the low hum of concentration and the flickering light from the screen dancing across their faces.

The mood had shifted — from banter to business.

* * *

The Ruhrstadion buzzed with energy that Sunday afternoon, the sky painted in a pale blue haze with streaks of sunlight breaking through scattered clouds. The faint chill in the air was no match for the warmth radiating from the stands — blue and white flags fluttering on one side, red and black on the other.

The broadcast cameras panned across the pitch as the commentary team’s voices came alive over the ambient roar.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to a beautiful Sunday in Bochum," said the lead commentator, his tone bright with anticipation. "It’s VfL Bochum against Eintracht Frankfurt — two teams at very different ends of the table, but both with something to prove today."

Beside him, the analyst chimed in. "Absolutely. Frankfurt are flying high at the moment — coming off that brilliant Europa League performance midweek. And all eyes, once again, will be on Lukas Brandt. Just 16 years old, and will be reporting for national team duties right after this match. It is unbelievable what he had achieved in such little time. I think it will be nigh-impossible to maintain the standards he has set for himself, but the Eintracht Frankfurt faithful and even most neutrals will hope he can continue giving us the spectacle he has provided so far this season."

"Yes and it’s no surprise that clubs all over the continent are already keeping their eye on him. The news of a 115 million euros proposal from Bayern Munich is not far-fetched. In the current market, and his profile, I think he’s worth even more than that."

"It will be a major coup for any club that’s able to take him away from Eintracht Frankfurt at that price."

The camera zoomed in on Lukas as the teams lined up in the tunnel. He looked calm, almost serene, with his short-sleeved black-and-red shirt tucked neatly, white Puma boots gleaming, and his eyes focused straight ahead. Behind him, Gotze gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Eintracht Frankfurt lining up in a 4-2-3-1 formation," the commentator continued. "Kauã in goal, Kristensen, Koch, Tuta, and Brown at the back. Skhiri and Højlund sitting just ahead of them. And that attacking trio — Bahoya on the left, Lukas Brandt through the middle, and Gotze on the right — all supporting Hugo Ekitiké up top."

"Plenty of creativity there," the analyst added. "Brandt’s ability to drift between the lines has been key to Frankfurt’s recent form. Bochum will have their hands full trying to contain him."

The teams walked out to applause as the referee led them to the center circle. The captains shook hands — Trapp exchanging a quick word with his opposite number — before everyone took their positions.

The whistle pierced the air.

For Bochum, Marwin Horn stood between the posts, shielded by a trio of defenders — Oermann, Ordets, and Medic — forming a solid, physical back line. The width came from Passlack on the right and Wittek on the left, both wing-backs instructed to press high when in possession. In midfield, Bero, Sissoko, and Kraus made up a hardworking trio, tasked with crowding Frankfurt’s creators and breaking up their rhythm. Up front, the pace and power of Hoffmann and Masouras were Bochum’s main weapons on the break.

Bochum kicked off, the ball rolling across the lush green surface, and the match was underway.

The game started at a lively tempo, the ball zipping between blue and red shirts as both sides fought to take early control. Frankfurt’s passing was crisp, patient, probing — the kind of football Dino Toppmöller had been preaching all season.

By the fifth minute, they began to find rhythm.

"Frankfurt looking dangerous here," said the commentator as the ball reached Mario Götze in the middle of the pitch.

Götze received it on the half-turn and instantly spotted Lukas drifting between Bero and Sissoko. The veteran slipped a neat pass into space, and Lukas, with a delicate first touch, let the ball roll across his body, opening up the field ahead of him.

"There’s that movement again from Brandt — he’s just so clever in those pockets."

Lukas drove forward, drawing Ordets out of the back line before flicking a disguised pass to Ekitiké at the top of the box. Ekitiké held off Oermann with a feint, returning the ball with a quick backheel that found Lukas breaking through.

"Oh, that’s silky from Frankfurt!" the commentator shouted as Lukas surged past Medic.

He steadied himself and went for goal from fifteen yards, curling low toward the far corner. The crowd held its breath — but the shot bent just wide of the post.

"Oooh, that’s close! Brilliant build-up play — Götze, Ekitiké, and the young Lukas Brandt right at the heart of it," said the analyst. "That’s football straight out of the training ground. You can see the confidence flowing through this side."

Lukas grimaced slightly, clapped his hands once, and jogged back, exchanging a thumbs-up with Ekitiké. The message was clear: they were just warming up.

Ten minutes later, Frankfurt’s patience paid off.

It began with Skhiri winning a loose ball in midfield, sliding it to Lukas near the halfway line. The teenager was instantly pressed by Kraus, but he turned sharply, letting the ball roll past his right foot before cutting inside.

"Lovely turn by Brandt — he’s left Kraus for dead!"

With space ahead, Lukas threaded a perfectly weighted ball between Ordets and Passlack to Ekitiké, who ghosted behind the defense.

Ekitiké took one touch, lifted his head, and rolled it square to the left side of the box, where Bahoya was charging in unmarked.

"Bahoya! Still Bahoya!"

The winger opened his body and whipped a gorgeous shot that curled into the top-right corner, kissing the underside of the crossbar on its way in.

"GOAL! What a strike from Bahoya! Great play from Eintracht Frankfurt. They have been in front since kick-off and their dominance has been rewarded!"

The Frankfurt bench erupted, and Toppmöller punched the air. Lukas didn’t celebrate wildly; he just pointed toward Bahoya, then to Ekitiké.

Something like this won’t be visible in the statistic as he wouldn’t get the goal nor the assist, but these were times where his usefulness to his team shone the brightest.