212: Tickets to European competitions and the ambition of a "treble"

The streets of Hartlepool were buzzing all night.

The parade floats slowly moved along the main street, with hundreds of thousands of fans lining the roads to welcome their heroes' triumphant return.

The golden trophy glittered in the sunlight, reflecting on every excited face.

Lin Feng and Sophie stood atop the float, basking in the tidal wave of cheers.

Sophie's hand was clasped tightly around his arm, her engagement ring sparkling under the flashes of the crowd's cameras.

"This is the world you've given me," Sophie whispered into Lin Feng's ear, her voice trembling in the wind.

Lin Feng looked at the fans waving flags on both sides of the street, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.

Old John, leaning on his cane, raised his trembling hands, and children screamed the players' names from their fathers' shoulders.

This small town was alive with football, celebrating dreams.

Vardy raised the trophy, sunlight spilling through its metallic surface onto the crowd.

Danish goalkeeper Schmeichel waved in greeting, and Henderson clenched his fists, roaring at the sky.

Every player had become a hero of this city.

As the float pulled up to the club's entrance, the square was densely packed with people.

Lin Feng took the microphone, his clear voice echoing into every corner.

"This trophy belongs to you!"

The cheers were deafening.

But Lin Feng knew this was just the beginning.

The League Cup victory brought the club not only glory but also a valuable ticket to next season's Europa League.

A Championship team securing European qualification in advance was unprecedented in English football history.

The European stage had opened its doors to Northern Dragon.

Inside the club office, Lin Feng sat alone at the conference table.

The system interface appeared in his mind, the cursor for the special reward flashing over Henderson's name.

He confirmed his choice without hesitation.

Jordan Henderson's potential was upgraded from A to A+, and his stats changed instantly.

This young midfielder possessed top-tier leadership and work rate, and would be the cornerstone for future Premier League and Champions League campaigns.

A soft knock on the door, and Sophie entered with a cup of coffee.

She had changed out of her glamorous celebration dress and was back in her professional attire.

"Puma called," Sophie said, placing a folder on the table.

"They want to renegotiate the sponsorship contract and are willing to offer a price matching Premier League giants."

Lin Feng opened the folder, the numbers instantly catching his eye.

The League Cup title had once again boosted the club's commercial value, with major brands recognizing the immense potential of this miraculous team.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing.

The screen showed a familiar number: Sir Alex Ferguson.

"You deserve this victory," the Old Sir's voice came through the phone, carrying the rich timbre of the Scottish Highlands.

"The Premier League awaits you, and I await you."

Lin Feng chuckled; the contest between the two managers at Wembley had transcended victory and defeat.

They admired each other and had forged a deep friendship.

"I hope next time we meet at Old Trafford, we can have an even more exciting match."

Hanging up the phone, Lin Feng turned to face the massive floor-to-ceiling window.

The construction site for the "Northern Dragon Arena" was right before his eyes, the steel and concrete framework already taking shape.

Sophie walked to his side, and they stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing at their future home.

"'Northern Dragon Rising' Season 1 launched today," Sophie said, her voice filled with excitement.

"Pay-per-view subscriptions exceeded half a million in one day, and global influence is exploding."

Northern Storm TV's documentary had brought the club enormous media revenue.

This was not just a commercial success but also a testament to brand value.

Hartlepool United's story was spreading worldwide.

Lin Feng's gaze shifted towards the training ground.

There, the youth team was preparing for the upcoming FA Youth Cup final.

Hartlepool United U18s would host Arsenal U18s.

A clash about the future, equally captivating.

In the internal meeting room that afternoon, all the players gathered.

The golden League Cup trophy was placed in the center of the conference table, sunlight casting mottled shadows on its metallic surface through the blinds.

Lin Feng stood before the tactics board, his marker pen circling dates on the League and FA Cup schedules.

"Gentlemen, we have won our first trophy, but this is just the beginning."

His voice was calm and firm, every word striking a chord in the players' hearts.

"I hope that by the end of the season, this trophy room will have two more."

Vardy sat up straight, the English striker's eyes burning with fighting spirit.

De Bruyne and Coutinho exchanged glances, the two young prodigies nodding in silent understanding.

The word "treble" appeared in the players' minds for the first time.

The Championship title, League Cup, and FA Cup – this once distant dream now seemed within reach.

Henderson felt a subtle change in his potential, a feeling hard to describe, like a purer power flowing through his veins.

The young captain clenched his fists, the responsibility on his shoulders growing heavier.

Old John quietly observed all of this from the corner.

The Scottish veteran had witnessed every transformation of this team, from League Two to League One, and now to Championship dominance.

After the meeting, the players filed out.

Each face was etched with the desire to make history.

Lin Feng remained alone in the meeting room, his phone vibrating with a continuous stream of incoming calls.

Major media outlets all wanted to interview the mysterious "Shadow Godfather," but he declined all invitations.

As night fell, the club office remained brightly lit.

Lin Feng sat in front of his computer, the screen displaying the FA Cup quarter-final draw results.

The opponent was confirmed: Chelsea.

The Blues, managed by Ancelotti, would face off in a top-tier clash at Hartlepool's home ground.

As soon as the news broke, public opinion was once again in an uproar.

Everyone wanted to see if this miraculous "Cup King" could continue its magical journey against the "Iron-Blooded Blues."

Sophie pushed open the door, holding a steaming cup of coffee.

She saw Lin Feng's furrowed brow and gently stroked his shoulder.

"Worried?"

Lin Feng shook his head, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

Chelsea was a true giant; Drogba, Lampard, Terry, Čech – these names represented the pinnacle of world football.

But precisely because of this, defeating them would be even more meaningful.

At the press conference the next day, Ancelotti sat elegantly before the microphone.

The Italian's demeanor was gentlemanly and confident, every word exuding the style of a master.

"I respect them greatly; they are champions," Ancelotti's voice was gentle yet firm.

"But the FA Cup is a game for big clubs.

At their home ground, we will show what true football artistry is."

As his words fell, reporters frantically pressed their shutters.

This statement was destined to become the focus of pre-match hype.

Far away at Hartlepool's training ground, Old John played this interview video for the entire team.

The Italian's elegant posture and confident words instantly made the atmosphere in the locker room heavy.