The next morning at nine o'clock, the sun was shining brightly.
David Qin arrived at the VfL Center exactly on time. As he approached, he saw a man with blonde hair and a distinct baby face stepping out of a car.
David was immediately reminded of the work by the famous Belgian cartoonist Hergé: The Adventures of Tintin. He couldn't say the resemblance was identical, but it was remarkably close.
This was Kevin De Bruyne.
Since being discarded by Mourinho at Chelsea and transferring to Wolfsburg, the Belgian seemed to have unlocked his full potential, delivering a string of spectacular performances in the Bundesliga. Of course, some whispered that after his highly publicized breakup, he had proven the old football adage: with no woman in your heart, your play becomes divine.
Moreover, in the recently concluded 2014 World Cup in Brazil, during Belgium's Round of 16 clash against the USA, De Bruyne had contributed a goal and an assist in the first half of extra time. His clutch performance dragged Belgium to a hard-fought victory, cementing his status as the team's key man. Though they eventually fell 1-2 to Argentina in the quarter-finals, the world had taken notice of the blonde youth.
As a transmigrator, David knew better than anyone just how powerful De Bruyne would eventually become.
Joining Wolfsburg might truly be the best choice, David thought to himself. He decided that if he passed this trial, he wouldn't bother looking elsewhere, even if a "better" team came calling.
Guided by a staff member, David underwent technical testing first. This included fundamental skills: passing, shooting, ball control, and dribbling. With his Ronaldinho template synchronization at 65%, he breezed through these drills without a hitch.
Next came the physical assessment: sprints, vertical jumps, agility drills, and lung capacity tests to evaluate his conditioning.
"Your physical profile is excellent," the tester remarked, looking over the data sheet with genuine admiration. Even by the most rigorous standards, David's athleticism was impressive—bordering on elite.
"You can rest for half an hour. There are sports drinks and snacks over there. The final segment is the most important: the intra-squad scrimmage," the staff member said with a smile.
"Thank you," David nodded. He didn't stand on ceremony; the previous tests had been taxing, and he needed to refuel.
During the break, he chatted with a few other trialists. He didn't know them, but a brief exchange revealed they hailed from 2. Bundesliga sides or the Dortmund reserves. They were all solid players. Wolfsburg had significant momentum from the previous season and was aiming for a top-three finish this year, making it a highly desirable destination. They had already secured Arsenal striker Nicklas Bendtner and were reportedly bidding for Manchester United's Shinji Kagawa. The reason for their aggressive recruitment was simple: with their star left-winger Ivan Perišić out with an injury, they were desperate for a replacement.
"I heard they've already cut most of the guys. So far, no one has actually passed the trial," said a dark-complexioned man named Scott, a player from Darmstadt 98.
Professional clubs were usually like this; if they didn't promote from their own academy, they preferred to buy established talent. Entering a top-flight team through an open trial was rare and incredibly difficult.
As the group chatted, a burly man approached and clapped his hands. "The scrimmage is an 11-a-side match. We'll rotate you in as we go," he barked.
Inwardly, the man knew that the other three trialists were merely there for show. Wolfsburg's trial for David Qin was, essentially, a "tailored position." Regardless of how David performed today, the final result was largely predetermined. His ties to the massive Chinese market were simply too lucrative to ignore.
When David and the others reached the training pitch, the match had already been underway for several minutes. On the touchline, a silver-haired man wearing black-rimmed glasses watched with a neutral gaze.
At 51, Dieter Hecking knew that while football was a sport, it was also a business. David Qin was a commercial move. Even if Hecking disliked being told how to manage his squad, he understood that capital held the ultimate leverage. In modern football, you couldn't survive without money.
Influenced by these thoughts, he felt a flicker of localized resentment toward David. No manager likes a player who gets in through the "back door"—unless, of course, they were the ones who opened it.
"Wolfsburg's squad depth is impressive on paper," David noted, his eyes fixed on the game.
The Team A defensive midfielder completed a clean tackle and slid a diagonal pass to De Bruyne. The Belgian looked slightly uncomfortable; he was being deployed as a left midfielder rather than his usual central attacking role. With Perišić injured, he was a temporary fix. His instinctive through-ball failed to bypass the defender and was intercepted mid-path.
Team B immediately countered down the wing, whipping in a cross near the touchline. A bald, powerful striker in the box soared into the air, meeting the ball with a thunderous header.
Thump! The ball buried itself in the back of the net, bulging the white mesh.
"Bas! Great finish!" "At this rate, you'll be a starter instead of a sub this season!"
The Team B players were generous with their praise. The Team A players could only manage wry smiles, though no one pointed fingers. De Bruyne, however, walked with his head down, looking deeply dissatisfied with himself. He was a stubborn perfectionist with high self-expectations—the very trait that had led him to leave Chelsea.
The team atmosphere seems healthy, David noted internally.
Beside him, Dieter Hecking frowned and barked, "The Chinese kid—yeah, you. Get in there. Swap out number 7."
He was referring to Daniel Caligiuri, the right-winger. "Wait—David, you play left-mid. Maximilian, move to the right. Kevin, move back into the center."
David nodded, his breathing quickening as a wave of nerves washed over him. It was his first real match since transmigrating. Ten Hag, that prick... wouldn't let me eat, wouldn't let me train. No wonder people call him 'Ten Fraud' in the future.
David cursed Ten Hag in his mind, and strangely, the nerves vanished.
As Caligiuri walked off looking frustrated, David sprinted to his position, scanning his teammates' locations. This was his chance. He had to make an impression—on the coach, and on the players.
But reality is often harsher than dreams. Though David was incredibly active, his teammates didn't trust him. One minute passed, then two, then three. Since he stepped onto the pitch, he hadn't touched the ball once.
Team A was heavily biased toward the right flank, trying to use short passing combinations to tear through Team B's wing defense. Their efforts were yielding nothing.
When De Bruyne received the ball, he looked up and saw a solitary figure on the far wing. Once upon a time, De Bruyne had been that person—ignored and untrusted by teammates because he was quiet and introverted.
Whether it was because the right-side attack had stalled or out of a sense of empathy, De Bruyne pushed the ball forward with his right foot and unleashed a searing through-ball.
Snap! The ball sliced through the defensive line with surgical precision, finding the vast, empty space on the left wing.
David realized then that it wasn't just his teammates ignoring him; the opposition hadn't bothered to mark him either.
With a quick thought, he didn't break his stride. He met the ball with the outside of his right foot, taking a series of sharp, rapid touches. He went from a standstill to a full-tilt sprint in an instant!