Halftime passed quickly.
By this point, no one believed the result could possibly change.
Coaches and players from Reims, Troyes, Sedan, and other clubs had already turned off their televisions.
They knew Bastia were already champions.
What they could compete for now was only second place and playoff qualification.
So why keep watching just to see Bastia celebrate?
Congratulatory text messages had been flooding Julien's phone since his hat trick.
In the 50th minute, Hadzibegic made his "routine substitution"—taking off De Rocca.
The moment the substitution board was raised, every fan in the stadium rose to their feet in thunderous applause.
Their eyes couldn't hide their love for Julien, nor their emotion over the championship and successful promotion.
Many had tears in their eyes.
Following the others, they choked out "Julien."
"Julien!"
"Julien!!"
Names called from fans in all directions converged together like a sharp sword piercing the heavy night sky, then transforming into countless stars scattered across the heavens.
Each cry of "Julien" was like divine whispers.
Julien's eyes also showed some red.
He struggled to control his emotions, walking very slowly as teammate after teammate high-fived and embraced him, sending him off with applause.
Châteauroux's players stood in place, without protest or complaint, giving the match's best player a respectful send-off.
Julien waved to fans in all directions, continuously waving, trying his best to sweep his gaze across every section of the stands.
Trying his best to acknowledge them all.
Though each of his waves triggered another wave of cheers.
This substitution process took a full minute.
Julien reached the sideline.
He embraced David, his replacement, then hugged Hadzibegic, followed by the assistant coaches rushing over to embrace him, and finally the bench players joining the huddle.
Words like "champion," "best player," and "hat trick" poured from their mouths.
In the stands, Pierre's family already had red-rimmed eyes.
Beside Pierre, a small, dark "bald head" watched everything Julien was doing at the Cesari Stadium, his eyes shining with admiration, but also with some timidity.
After celebrating with his family, Pierre turned to the "little bald head." "N'Golo, look—this is Bastia. I think you'll like it here."
N'Golo nodded.
Pierre patted his shoulder with a smile, saying nothing more.
He actually didn't understand why Julien had insisted he become this young player's agent. Pierre had watched N'Golo play—he was not spectacular, nothing particularly special, just someone who might possibly become a professional player.
But through continued contact, Pierre discovered N'Golo's character was remarkably pure, and he'd grown fond of the child.
Around N'Golo were many people planning to benefit through him, "close associates" in what Pierre didn't understand as the "parasitic model" common in certain communities.
Originally, he was unwilling to get involved, but he was swayed by Julien's unwavering insistence.
The process was complex—so complex that Pierre hadn't even had time to watch Julien's matches.
Only with Châtaigner's help, after Pierre paid considerable costs, did he finally transfer all agent rights for N'Golo to his own name.
Now N'Golo was Pierre's third client.
First was Julien, second was Loup, and third was N'Golo.
This was also Pierre's first-time bringing N'Golo to Bastia.
Pierre watched N'Golo, completely absorbed in staring at the pitch, and sighed inwardly.
Originally, he'd planned to stop managing these affairs once Julien came of age, wanting to remain just an ordinary blue-collar worker.
But under Julien's repeated guidance, he'd actually begun signing young players other than his own son.
Was he really starting a career as an agent?
Pierre felt somewhat intimidated inside. He was just an ordinary person with no connections or resources.
Would he delay N'Golo's development?
"That's Julien!"
Just as Pierre's thoughts were racing, his son Loup De Rocca's delighted voice rang out.
At the scene, someone had raised a large portrait of Julien.
Clearly a self-made artwork.
It also bore two large words: "Pour vous."
The broadcast cameras thoughtfully focused on this young man, who excitedly held up his proudest artwork.
The surrounding fans applauded him.
Because he'd genuinely done excellent work.
After Julien was substituted, the entire match essentially became garbage time, with Hadzibegic already having his players conserve energy for the French Cup.
Time passed minute by minute.
Bastia was already bathed in victory, with intense emotions building up, ready to burst forth.
Whistle!!
The referee's final whistle was like the spark igniting a bomb.
BOOM!
The Cesari Stadium exploded!!
Everyone felt a surge of hot blood rushing through them, a burning current shooting straight to their heads.
Thunderous roars!
Drumbeats!
Cheers!!
Countless sounds merged together, forming massive sound waves that swept over everyone present.
Those in the stadium could no longer hear other sounds—only the tremendous roar.
"...clinching the 2011/12 Ligue 2 championship four rounds early, their first Ligue 2 title in 44 years, and their return to Ligue 1 after a 7-year absence."
No one was listening to the commentary anymore.
At this moment in Bastia, there were only cheers!
Only intense emotions continuously erupting, with everyone forgetting everything else, their minds filled only with celebration.
Only celebration!!
Hadzibegic embraced each player excitedly, and everyone pulled Julien from the bench, then lifted him up and tossed him into the air.
Catching him, then throwing him up again.
Again and again.
This 17-year-old boy, who should have been developing in the youth academy, in the reserve team, had instead used his talent and an unmatched record of 19 goals in 11 league matches to lead Bastia to the Ligue 2 championship with a commanding advantage!
Back to Ligue 1!
"Sous les étoiles de Furiani
U Stadiu Cesari chjama u to nomu
Julien, Julien, figliolu di muntagna
A Coppa hè pronta à scrive u to nomu"
From the north stand, the familiar melody rose once again. Under such intense emotions, this lyrical, flowing tune seemed particularly special.
The fans used Julien's favorite melody to sing "The Song of Julien" for him!
Pierre's family, as relatives, also rushed onto the pitch.
They celebrated the victory and championship together with Julien.
N'Golo followed along.
He met Julien.
Julien also saw him.
Seeing this familiar yet youthful face, Julien smiled and said. "Hello, Kanté."
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