Check out advanced chapters on P@treon: [email protected]/CosmicKaminari
----------
Before the match started, Lance suddenly realised there was a bug; his system was inexplicably banned, preventing him from equipping any templates.
Lance had no choice but to improvise, quickly throwing himself into the game as soon as the referee's whistle blew.
The situation was urgent, and Lance was slightly flustered, so he overlooked the system's notification sound.
After the match ended, Lance finally recalled hearing some kind of sound.
After finishing the routine interviews and dealing with the journalists with formulaic answers, Lance quickly returned to the changing room.
"Lance! Let's get hyped!"
"You guys go ahead, I'm going to shower; I'm all sticky with sweat."
His teammates didn't even bother showering; they just played music and danced awkwardly every time they won.
Lance took advantage of the empty bathroom, stepped under the showerhead, and turned on the cold water, letting it pour over his head.
Only then did he have time to check what was going on with the system.
"Error detected!"
"Football GOAT System is repairing..."
"New insight detected! Triggering Tiger Soul!"
"Fusion value +20%!"
"Hyuga Kojiro - S (Fusion value: 97%)"
"Repair complete!"
Bad news: The notification sound received at the start of the match yielded no rewards.
It was merely the system detecting a bug and announcing the repair.
The repair was only completed after the match ended.
Good news: It was probably during the last free kick that Lance found his muscle memory, and without any template buffs, he produced the effect of a Fierce Tiger Shot.
This unexpectedly triggered an insight.
The fusion value, which hadn't budged an inch for so long, suddenly surged by 20% today!
It went straight to 97%!
This means that it won't be long before the next stage is unlocked!
New templates, new card draws, or a complete system upgrade!
His overall strength could rise another level!
"Hopefully this time, it will strengthen my physicality. Or off-ball movement, or passing, any of those would be fine..."
Lance had always thought of himself as invincible.
His recent experience without templates made Lance fully realise that he still had many shortcomings.
Off-ball movement, physical confrontation, passing, and organisation—if he wanted to become a true GOAT, an undisputed football god, at least one of these three aspects needed to be top-tier!
Otherwise, Lance would only be an explosive player who could only perform with possession, merely a scorer who needed teammates to create opportunities.
As teams studied him more deeply, relying on a single trick became increasingly difficult.
Modern football emphasises teamwork and tactical coordination more.
Whilst he could still lead the team to victory with his 'cheat' for a short time, what if the system continued to be banned in the future?
What if the system completely malfunctioned and disappeared?
Solely relying on the system, he would never become a football king.
"Lance, why have you been showering for so long? Are you masturbating?"
"Pendejo!! Idiot!"
"Lance, don't be angry, we'll take you to a nightclub to find models to let off some steam."
"Damn it, a bunch of idiots."
Lance shook his head.
These simple-minded jocks were sometimes really frustrating.
Only Griezmann seemed like a normal person.
"Lance, you seem troubled."
"I'm just thinking about what to eat later."
Lance didn't know how to explain his thoughts from earlier, so he casually brushed it off...
"How do you evaluate Lance, who was largely invisible for most of this match?"
"This question is ridiculous. Isn't a hat-trick crucial? Equalising twice after falling behind, and then scoring the winning goal at the very end—what more do you want him to do?"
Simeone was almost laughing with anger.
At the post-match press conference, Barcelona's mouthpiece, Mundo Deportivo, seemed very unconvinced, asking questions from tricky angles.
Lance was ineffective for most of the match; his tactical positioning, passing, organisation, goal threat, and defensive involvement were almost nonexistent.
Barcelona's defensive tactics theoretically perfectly contained Lance, and Lance's off-ball movement and passing were lacking, and so on.
Simeone wasn't an idiot; he could clearly hear what Mundo Deportivo was implying.
Mundo Deportivo just wanted to explain Barcelona's defeat as "bad luck," that Lance scored three goals with "dumb luck," and that whilst Barcelona lost in terms of result, they dominated the process and didn't truly lose.
They suggested Lance had "run out of ideas" and had been thoroughly figured out.
Messi was the true king of La Liga.
With Simeone's temper, he wouldn't tolerate it at all, and he retorted on the spot.
"Once might be luck, but twice, three times? Which of these three goals was easy? Which one wasn't a display of Lance's individual skill? Which one wasn't a display of Lance's big heart? If these can all be called lucky goals, and Lance's level isn't considered world-class, then who, I ask, is a top player in La Liga? 20 goals in 15 rounds—can Messi do that?"
The Mundo Deportivo reporter was speechless and retreated in embarrassment.
Of course, apart from the pro-Barcelona media, most European football media still praised Lance.
After all, football is about results.
Who cares how many minutes you were invisible during the process, as long as you can score crucial goals and win, that's enough.
"Lance Works Another Miracle, Hat-trick Secures Thrilling 3-2 Victory Over Barcelona!"
"78% Possession, Dominated the Whole Game Yet Still Lost? A Detailed Review of 5 Factors in Barcelona's Defeat"
"Lance > Messi, The €150 Million Man Carries Atlético Madrid to the Top of the League!"
Spain, Germany, England, China... after the match day, there was another round of heated discussion around the world.
The 'Battle of the Kings' that captivated all of La Liga and the world continued for at least a week.
Even on the University of Munich campus, people weren't discussing Bayern's easy 3-0 victory over Hertha Berlin yesterday.
Chloe noticed that whether on Twitter or amongst her classmates, the match they talked about more was Atlético Madrid vs Barcelona.
"Didn't I say before that Barcelona definitely wouldn't win! With Lance, Atlético Madrid is guaranteed to win!"
"Wait, when did you get so interested in football? And, did you even say that?"
"Of course I did, Chloe can testify!"
"This..."
In the University of Munich cafeteria, Chloe gave an awkward smile, her pretty face flushed.
That Laila, she just talks big! She clearly didn't say it but wants me to testify!
The several male classmates opposite were also puzzled.
This woman, who usually only cared about anime, Korean boy bands, Justin Bieber, and Bruno Mars, suddenly became obsessed with football.
You're from Marseille, France; it's one thing to say you're a Marseille fan.
But constantly claiming to be an Atlético Madrid fan, who would believe that?
Facing her classmates' scepticism, Laila showed no embarrassment; instead, she tilted her chin up, shaking her chestnut wavy curls.
"I don't care! I am an Atlético Madrid fan, I became obsessed with Atlético Madrid and Lance starting yesterday. Why can't I be?"
"You're clearly just smitten, only looking at his face."
"So what if I'm looking at his face! I'm taking leave to go to Spain to get Lance's autograph, and then you guys can be jealous. Chloe, do you want one? I'll get you a Lance autograph too."
Laila was impulsive; she was already planning to go to Madrid to watch a match live.
"Eh? Me? I... don't need one."
Lance's autograph?
I already had one two years ago.
Chloe muttered to herself.
Not only do I have his autograph, but I've also dated Lance.
Oh right.
Chloe suddenly realised that she hadn't congratulated him on his win last night, and she could find an excuse to video call him again!
As soon as she thought of this, Chloe's delicate, flawless face turned into a red apple again, and her heart began to beat uncontrollably...
"Holidays are so boring."
Whenever there was a big victory, the next day was inevitably a holiday for rest.
Especially for key players like Lance and Griezmann, who were usually exhausted, with various physical indicators frequently alarming.
Given the rare victory, Simeone forced them to take the day off, prohibiting any high-intensity training, at most a simple workout.
Therefore, after Lance's routine weightlifting and cardio in his villa gym that morning, he lay lazily on the grass, basking in the warm winter sun of Madrid, played some golf, and video chatted with Chloe.
The day passed just like that.
"Oh, Antoine, today is the Champions League quarter-final draw, do you want to... fine, enjoy your date, damn it!"
"Saúl, tonight... alright, alright, go have fun!"
"Hola, Fernando! My brother... oh, you're taking the kids to your parents' house. Alright..."
Tonight was the Champions League quarter-final draw.
Lance had originally planned a barbecue party at home, but Griezmann, Saúl, Koke, and Torres—all of them had partners, all had families.
Taking kids, going on dates, going to nightclubs... Lance felt like a lonely single dog on the side of the road.
Never mind, watching alone is still watching.
Bored, he sat on the sofa, habitually juggling a ball with his feet, trying not to let it touch the carpet.
Lance watched some long and tedious Spanish soap opera for a whilst, then couldn't resist switching to the Movistar+ paid channel to watch this season's Champions League Round of 16 draw.
The group stage had completely concluded.
Group A: Real Madrid, Paris
Group B: Wolfsburg, Manchester United
Group C: Atlético Madrid, Bayer Leverkusen
Group D: Manchester City, Juve
Group E: Barcelona, Roma
Group F: Bayern, Arsenal
Group G: Chelsea, Porto
Group H: Zenit, Genk
The 16 teams had been decided.
Based on league and group avoidance rules, Atlético Madrid's possible opponents included: PSG, Manchester United, Juve, Roma, Arsenal, Porto, Genk.
If his luck was as 'crap' as before, Lance felt it was highly likely to be strong teams like Juve, Manchester United, or Arsenal.
But it didn't matter.
Atlético Madrid's opponents this season were only the European powerhouses.
Teams like Real Madrid, Barcelona, and Bayern were top tier, whilst Manchester City, Chelsea, Manchester United, Arsenal, and Paris were at most second-tier Champions League teams, with slightly weaker strength than Atlético Madrid.
To win the championship, it didn't matter who they drew in the Round of 16; they had to beat everyone.
Sitting alone in the dimly lit, spacious living room, with only the soft glow of the big projection TV in front of him, Lance suddenly felt that a house that was too big wasn't necessarily good.
What good was a spacious living room of over 300 square metres? What good was an Italian leather sofa costing tens of thousands of euros?
It was not as good as sitting on a cheap fabric sofa in a 30-square-metre rental flat, cuddling with a partner whilst watching TV.
Just as he was lost in thought, his phone rang, piercing the silence of the empty living room and generating a slight echo.
"Hola, beautiful lady."
"Hehehe, Lance... Oh, sorry, let me restart... cough cough, Hola! My handsome Knight."
"Wait, didn't you call me King before?"
"You didn't reply to my messages for a whole day, so I'm demoting you to Knight, hmph."
Chloe's cute, pouting expression appeared on the phone screen, and Lance suddenly felt that the 300-square-metre living room wasn't so empty anymore.
They talked about yesterday's match, Chloe's studies, and her eccentric female roommate.
Lance didn't even notice how far the draw had progressed until Chloe suddenly exclaimed a reminder.
"Wait, Lance, aren't you from Genk?"
"Yes, why?"
"Bingo! The best draw! You're probably going back home."
"Huh?"
Lance finally looked up and suddenly saw the draw guest, Italian legend Cannavaro, with his shiny bald head, grinning as he held up the drawn team.
Champions League Round of 16 Knockout Stage, Atlético de Madrid vs. K.R.C. Genk!
"Well, I haven't been back in almost 800 years."