Chapter 52: Chapter 51: Media Storm [II]
Monday Morning - Atalanta Medical Center
The medical facility at Atalanta’s Centro Bortolotti was state-of-the-art, all chrome and glass with examination rooms equipped with the latest diagnostic technology. Demien and Luca arrived together at 8 AM sharp, both wearing casual clothes and trying not to look as nervous as they felt.
Isabella Walter and Sophia Bianchi were already waiting in the reception area when they arrived. Isabella immediately pulled her son into a tight hug, while Sophia gave Luca a knowing smile.
"Ready for this?" Isabella asked, holding Demien at arm’s length to study his face.
"As ready as I’ll ever be," he replied.
A woman in medical scrubs approached with a clipboard. "Demien Walter and Luca Bianchi?"
"That’s us," Luca confirmed.
"Excellent. I’m Dr. Castellani, head of our medical department. We’ll be conducting your pre-contract medicals this morning. It’s very thorough, but nothing to worry about. Standard procedure for all new signings." She smiled professionally. "Follow me, please. Family can wait here—there’s coffee and refreshments available. We should be done in about three hours."
Three hours turned out to be accurate.
The medical examination was exhaustive. First came the basic physical assessment—height, weight, body fat percentage, lung capacity. Demien stood on scales while numbers were recorded, had his joints tested for flexibility, his posture analyzed.
Then came the cardiovascular testing. ECG monitors were attached to his chest while he ran on a treadmill at progressively higher speeds, medical staff watching screens that displayed his heart rate, oxygen levels, and cardiac rhythm. The treadmill test lasted until he was completely exhausted, pushing him to his absolute limit.
"Excellent cardiovascular fitness," Dr. Castellani noted, making marks on her tablet. "Your VO2 max is impressive for someone your age."
Blood work followed—multiple vials drawn to test for everything from basic health markers to banned substances. Then came the orthopedic examination, where a specialist manipulated each joint, checking for any previous injuries or structural weaknesses that might cause problems later.
"Any history of ankle injuries?" the orthopedist asked while rotating Demien’s right foot through its range of motion.
"Minor sprain when I was sixteen. Fully healed."
"No lingering issues?"
"None."
The specialist made a note and moved to examine his knees, pressing and probing with professional efficiency.
Next was the vision test, reading letters on a chart and tracking moving lights to measure reaction time and visual acuity. Then came ultrasound scans of his joints and muscles, the technician moving the probe over his ankles, knees, and shoulders while checking the monitor for any structural abnormalities.
"Everything looks clean," the technician confirmed. "No signs of previous damage or weakness."
In a room down the hall, Luca was undergoing identical testing.
Finally, after nearly three and a half hours, Dr. Castellani reviewed the compiled results in her office while Demien sat across from her, still in his workout clothes from the treadmill test.
"Everything looks excellent, Demien," she said with genuine satisfaction. "Your cardiovascular system is very strong, no structural concerns, blood work is perfect, no underlying conditions that would prevent you from playing professional football." She closed the file. "I’m clearing you for full training and competition."
Relief flooded through him. "Thank you."
"You’ve taken good care of your body. That will serve you well in your career." She stood and extended her hand. "Congratulations, and welcome to Atalanta."
Luca received similar news, and soon both young men were reunited with their families in the reception area, officially cleared for professional football.
"How do you feel?" Isabella asked, searching her son’s face for any sign of lingering stress.
"Like it’s really happening," Demien admitted.
"That’s because it is," Sophia said with a warm smile. "Now comes the fun part."
Atalanta Headquarters - Contract Signing Ceremony
The conference room had been transformed for the occasion. The long table was covered with a black cloth emblazoned with the Atalanta crest. Two professional cameras were set up on tripods, while the club’s photographer moved around the room adjusting lighting. A backdrop featuring Atalanta sponsors and logos stood ready for official photos.
Luca Percassi entered first, followed by the club’s legal counsel and media manager. Marco Benetti arrived moments later with both families.
"Welcome, welcome," Percassi greeted them warmly, shaking hands all around. "This is always one of my favorite parts of the job. Seeing young talent officially join our family."
The contracts were already laid out on the table—thick documents that represented years of work distilled into legal language and numbers.
"We’ll do Demien first, then Luca," the media manager explained. "We want photos of the signing itself, then official portraits in the new kit, then some with family. The whole process takes about forty-five minutes."
Demien sat down at the table, his mother standing just behind his right shoulder. The cameras clicked as he picked up the provided pen—expensive, heavy, with the Atalanta crest engraved on its side.
"Take your time," Percassi said kindly. "This is a moment to remember."
Demien looked down at the signature line. Demien Walter, it said in printed text above the blank space waiting for his handwriting.
He thought of David Drinkwater’s decades of struggle. He thought of Demien Walter’s suicide attempt, the despair that had driven this body to try to end everything. He thought of the Ultimate Gacha System that had given him this impossible second chance.
Then he signed his name with steady hand.
The cameras captured the moment from multiple angles—the pen moving across paper, his focused expression, his mother’s hand on his shoulder with tears streaming down her face.
"Congratulations," Percassi said, reaching across to shake his hand. "You are now officially an Atalanta player."
Luca’s signing followed the same process, with Sophia beaming proudly as her brother added his signature to his own contract.
Then came the kit presentation. They were led to another room where pristine Atalanta jerseys waited—the famous blue and black stripes that had become synonymous with attacking, exciting football.
Demien was handed his. No number yet—squad numbers would be assigned before pre-season—but seeing "WALTER" printed across the shoulders made everything feel viscerally real.
The photo session that followed was extensive. Individual portraits holding the shirt. Photos with Percassi. Photos with the contracts. Photos with family. Action poses. Serious expressions. Smiling expressions.
"One more," the photographer called. "Demien, hold the shirt up, big smile. This is for the website and social media."
Demien lifted the jersey, the Atalanta crest prominent across the chest, and smiled genuinely. This wasn’t manufactured happiness for the camera. This was real.
"Perfect," the photographer said. "That’s the one."
As the session wrapped up and contracts were officially filed, Percassi pulled both young men aside.
"You have one week to rest and settle in. Pre-season training begins next Monday. Seven AM sharp. Don’t be late." His expression was serious but warm. "You’ve earned your place here, but now the real work begins. Use this week wisely—recover, prepare yourself mentally. Gasperini’s training is intense. You’ll be challenged every single day once it starts."
"We’re ready," Demien said, and Luca nodded agreement.
"Good." Percassi smiled. "Welcome to Atalanta, gentlemen. Make us proud."
Atalanta Headquarters - Director’s Office - Two Hours Later
Chiara knocked lightly on Percassi’s office door before entering. He looked up from his desk where he’d been reviewing scouting reports.
"The photos are ready," she announced. "Media team just sent them over. They look excellent."
"Perfect. Send the message to Fabrizio. Tell him he can post the announcement now."
Chiara pulled out her phone and began typing quickly. "Sending it now... and done. He should post within the next few minutes."
Percassi nodded, satisfied. "Let’s see how the football world reacts to our new signings."