"GOAL! GOAL! TOTAL DOMINATION!"
"It's a masterclass! A counter-attacking symphony!"
"Renzo! It's Renzo again! That kid isn't a prospect—he's a phenomenon!"
Inside the Marassi, the home fans were filing toward the exits in a grim, silent procession. They had come to see their beloved Sampdoria fight for 5th place; instead, they had witnessed a slaughter. In the tiny, pulsating corner of the away end, eight hundred Fiorentina fans were making enough noise to shake the foundations of Genoa.
The irony was not lost on the local press. The two men who had dismantled Sampdoria—Mohamed Salah with the brace and Renzo Uzumaki with the double-assist—were both winter loan signings. Being crushed by the "new guys" was a bitter pill for the Blucerchiati to swallow.
On the pitch, Salah didn't just celebrate; he took a flying leap and latched onto Renzo's back like a joyous shadow.
"Renzo! That ball was a gift from God!" Salah shouted into his ear. "I've never had service like that. Never!"
Salah wasn't exaggerating. This was the first brace of his professional career. Not in Switzerland with Basel, and certainly not during his dark days at Stamford Bridge, had he ever put two past a keeper in a single match.
For months, his confidence had been a flickering candle in a hurricane. Chelsea had made him feel small, a "failed" winger who could run but couldn't finish. But today, with Renzo pulling the strings behind him, Salah felt like a giant. He realized he didn't need to do everything himself. He just needed to run; the ball would find him.
On the sidelines, Vincenzo Montella's celebrations were uncharacteristically wild. He looked at Renzo, and his perspective shifted once again. Four assists in two games. This wasn't a lucky sub anymore. This was a tactical centerpiece.
The final whistle blew, echoing across the empty seats. Sampdoria 0 - 3 Fiorentina.
As the Gigliati players huddled in the center circle, the veteran Joaquín clapped Salah on the shoulder. "The Pharaoh has awakened! Two goals, Mo! You were unplayable."
"I had help," Salah said, scratching his head shyly as he looked at Renzo.
"Salah is right," a deep, gravelly voice interrupted.
The group turned to see Samuel Eto'o walking toward them. The 34-year-old looked exhausted, his jersey soaked in sweat. He had tried his best, but without a playmaker to feed him, the Lion had been toothless.
"Well done, Salah," Eto'o said, a sad but proud smile on his face. "I told you at Chelsea—your finishing was always there. You just needed the right man to find you. It looks like you found him."
Eto'o turned his gaze to Renzo. The legendary striker, a man with three Champions League medals and a cabinet full of African Player of the Year awards, did something that stunned the entire squad.
"Renzo, right?" Eto'o asked. "Would you do me the honor of exchanging jerseys?"
Renzo blinked, momentarily speechless. To be recognized by a legend was one thing; to be asked for his shirt was another entirely. "The honor is mine, Mr. Eto'o."
As they swapped shirts and shared a brief hug, Eto'o leaned in. "Don't stop, kid. Players with your eyes are rare. It won't be long before the whole world is knocking on your door. You're going to be one of the greats."
As the team headed toward the tunnel, most were floating on air. But one man was dragging his feet, looking like he'd just lost his favorite dog.
"Cuadrado, what's with the long face?" Captain Pasqual laughed, nudging the Colombian. "We just won 3-0! You were great out there!"
Cuadrado looked up, his lip practically trembling. "Great? Gomez gets two goals last week. Salah gets two goals this week. Everyone is having a party in the box except for me!"
He turned toward Renzo, grabbing the teenager's hands with desperate intensity.
"Renzo! Brother! My friend! My favorite teammate!" Cuadrado cried, his eyes wide. "Next game, you can't forget me! I want to score too! I want to feel the net ripple! Please, pass me the ball! I'm begging you!"
Renzo laughed, shaking his head at the Colombian's theatrics. "I'll try, Juan. Just make the run."
"I'll run to the moon if I have to!" Cuadrado shouted, finally breaking into a grin. "Just don't leave me out of the highlight reel!"
The bus ride back to Florence was loud, filled with music and the smell of victory. But for Renzo, looking at Eto'o's jersey draped over his seat, he knew the real challenge was only beginning. The "Genius" was no longer a secret.
Chapter 30 End.
Expert Guide Rule 2: This victory has propelled Fiorentina up the table, but the "Renzo-mania" is about to hit the Italian media. How do you think the European giants (like Real Madrid or Manchester City) will react to a 16-year-old loanee putting up these kinds of numbers in Serie A?
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