"Goddammit, Halim! Did you waste all your energy in bed last night? Faster with your passes and first touches!"
"Fuck!"
"You're running ten laps after this, you useless prick!"
"Joey!!!"
"Where the hell is your positioning?!"
"I told you to stretch wide when you receive the ball! What are you doing in the middle?!"
"And you, Hughes, you piece of shit—"
...
On the Schalke 04 U18 training pitch, a burly, bearded man was roaring at the top of his lungs.
Yet even with his foul-mouthed tirade, the players being yelled at stayed quiet as quails.
Talk back?
Not a chance.
Who'd dare talk back to Giles Daniel, the notorious hard man of Schalke?
They'd have to be suicidal.
As head coach of the U18 youth team,
Giles Daniel had been in charge for five years, and no one had ever dared to disobey him.
But just as he was fuming at his players' terrible performance, his assistant coach leaned over.
"Gaffer, Old Jess is here."
Giles Daniel frowned.
Old Jess was no ordinary figure.
The old man was a legendary scout in Dortmund,
having worked for the club for nearly twenty years.
More than ten talents had been discovered under his watch.
For that reason, every youth team showed him great respect.
"What's he doing here? I'm in the middle of training!"
"Gaffer, he brought an Asian kid with black hair. Probably found himself another talent somewhere."
"Asian??"
Giles Daniel was surprised.
Old Jess was an experienced old scout—he didn't usually bring unknowns straight onto the training pitch.
Daniel had planned to meet him later,
but after a moment's thought, he told his assistant to lead Old Jess onto the field.
Daniel's eyes locked straight onto Su Bai immediately,
scanning him up and down like a machine.
180 centimeters tall, slightly thin build, poor physicality—
that was Su Bai's first impression on him.
But Daniel didn't pay it much mind. After all, Japanese and Korean players in the Bundesliga were built similarly.
"Hi, Daniel! I could hear you shouting from the gate!"
Old Jess didn't hold back on the teasing.
Still, Daniel held out his hand and shook the old man's.
He respected anyone who'd served a club for twenty years.
"What brings you here? Brought me another young talent, have you?" Daniel smiled.
"Exactly. Give this kid a run."
"Just got kicked out by Borussia Dortmund. I reckon we've found a hidden gem here."
With that, Old Jess pushed Su Bai forward toward Daniel.
"Nice to meet you, sir. My name is Su Bai, from China."
China?
When Su Bai stated his nationality, Daniel looked surprised.
He knew Chinese players. After all, the first team had one—Hao Junmin, or something like that. But that guy had barely played a handful of games, in and out of the squad.
He'd heard that guy was already the best China had to offer.
"This kid's got great passing. Put him on and see for yourself."
Old Jess cut straight to the point about Su Bai's strength.
Su Bai felt annoyed hearing himself described this way.
Passing?
Dammit, he wanted to max out shooting! A striker stuck with maxed passing—this was ridiculous.
"Passing?"
Daniel's interest was piqued.
He didn't lack strikers, he didn't lack pacey wingers. What he did need was someone who could actually pass.
Halim O'Shea, his starting attacking midfielder, had been the target of his rage just moments ago.
The guy was strong, but his passing was absolutely dreadful.
"What position do you normally play?"
Daniel asked Su Bai.
"Striker, sir."
Old Jess facepalmed beside him.
He'd spent the whole drive talking sense into the kid, and he still called himself a striker.
Daniel just laughed.
"A striker who's good at passing?"
Looking at Daniel's smile, and thinking about his tempting system reward,
Su Bai reluctantly changed his tune.
"Sir, actually my best position is midfield. Striker's just my dream role."
Daniel didn't waste time.
He blew his whistle to stop the intra-squad match.
"Get over there, you're on. Halim O'Shea, get your ass off and give this kid your vest!"
He shouted toward Halim on the pitch.
Halim O'Shea didn't hesitate for a second. He hurried off, handed his training bib to Su Bai, and even gave him a grateful look.
Su Bai was confused.
He'd just taken the guy's spot—why was he thanking him?
"Ben Kersey, fill him in on the system!"
A handsome blond young man walked over from the pitch.
"Hi, I'm Ben Kersey. Temporary teammate."
Su Bai shook his outstretched hand.
"We're Team A. See that big black guy up front? That's Joey French, our right winger—fast and physical."
"The bald one's our striker, Whit Benedict."
"I play attacking mid. We're in a 4-3-3."
"I'll feed you the ball, you handle the build-up."
Ben Kersey was clearly used to this.
He quickly ran Su Bai through the players' strengths and the team's shape.
He'd understood the coach's order perfectly.
It was just a quick trial.
They'd see how good the kid was. If he had what it took, someone would talk to him later. If not—
they'd go back to being strangers.
Old Jess leaned on his arms and watched Su Bai quietly from the sideline.
Daniel's face was blank.
Su Bai stepped onto the pitch.
But to his surprise,
probably because his passing was maxed out,
something was different from when he played as a striker.
Faint lines seemed to appear all around him, along with floating numbers…
Had the system turned passing lanes into data?
This system was insane?!
Beep!
The referee's whistle blew,
and the training match that would decide Su Bai's future began.
Ben Kersey knew the drill. The coach just wanted to get this unimpressive Chinese kid out of the way quickly.
So as soon as the whistle sounded, Ben Kersey received a back-pass from striker Whit Benedict and immediately rolled the ball to Su Bai in front of him.
The pass came way too suddenly.
The Chinese kid didn't even control it properly!
Well… not completely miscontrolled.
But he took such a bad touch that the ball rolled two meters ahead of him.
What garbage basic technique!
Not only Ben Kersey, but even head coach Giles Daniel looked utterly exasperated.
He turned to Old Jess beside him.
Old Jess felt his face burning with embarrassment.
But as a veteran who'd been around Schalke for years,
he calmly turned his head.
"He's just nervous. He already played a full match this morning; he's probably tired."
Giles Daniel forced a smile and said nothing.
Tired? That was just an excuse.
The kid was plainly unskilled.
Amateur level at best—how was he supposed to play professional football?
Su Bai felt awkward on the pitch.
But he was thick-skinned and had a strong heart.
Even though his touch was awful, he rushed forward quickly and gained control of the ball before a Team B forward could close him down.
As the Team B players pressed in, nearly all the passing lanes in Su Bai's vision flashed red.
Without hesitation, he dragged the ball and spun,
laying it off to Lloyd Angelo, his team's defensive midfielder behind him.
...