September 2010
Bright, warm sunlight spilled over the training ground. A young man with raven-black hair and a tanned, sharp-faced complexion repeated the dull drill of dribbling around cones over and over again.
Though his movements were a little unsteady, he executed every single one with intense focus.
"Nine hundred and seventy-three!"
"Nine hundred and seventy-four!"
He counted aloud nonstop as he trained.
Meanwhile, on the sidelines, a group of blond-haired, blue-eyed foreign players stared at the lone Chinese youngster and muttered among themselves.
—"Where does he get all that energy? The final evaluation's in a bit, and he's definitely getting cut. What's the point of even practicing?"
—"Tch, Chinese people are good at table tennis, but football? No idea why he's trying so hard. No talent at all—what's the use of training?"
—"Got to hand it to him, though. He's the hardest worker on this team, that's for sure."
—"Hah, cut it out, Steven. Even if he trains till he drops dead, he'll never be half as good as you. You're the real prodigy of Borussia Dortmund U18. You might even get Bundesliga minutes this season!"
—"Yeah, Steven! Don't forget us lot when you sign a pro deal and head to the Bundesliga!"
—"Totally! You're buying us drinks when you put pen to paper!"
The blond youngster being showered with compliments smiled and said nothing, but the upward twitch of his lips made it clear how pleased Steven was.
He glanced back at the Chinese trialist—no, the Chinese kid who'd paid his way to Dortmund just to polish his resume.
Back on the pitch, the Chinese boy kept slaving away at the most basic cone dribbling drill.
"Nine hundred and ninety-seven!"
"Nine hundred and ninety-eight!"
"Nine hundred and ninety-nine!"
"One thousand!"
As he finished his final repetition, the boy stood frozen, worn out, and took a moment to catch his breath.
"Hey, Su! You done? Go fetch us some water!"
As soon as the Chinese boy stopped training, the group on the sidelines started barking orders at him.
They all knew he stood no chance of staying, but they teased him anyway for fun.
But then the boy shot them a fierce glare.
Ham, who'd been grinning ear to ear a second earlier, clamped his mouth shut immediately.
Something seemed to dawn on him.
—"Ham, are you crazy? Don't mess with that lunatic! You forget how Fries got beaten so bad he ended up in hospital last time?"
—"Right! The kid's garbage at football, but he's got one hell of a punch. Fries and James couldn't even handle his wild swings. Guess all Chinese people know kung fu!"
—"Shut up, Ham! We're not bailing you out if he kicks your ass!"
Ham fell silent at once after being scolded.
The boy's name was Su Bai.
A native of China.
He'd only made it to Germany thanks to a cooperation program launched by the Chinese Football Association—ten teenagers selected nationwide to trial at ten top European clubs.
The trial period lasted three months.
Whether he stayed or went was entirely up to the club.
Naturally, for raw trialists like him to step into a top club's youth academy was nothing short of a disaster.
Su Bai had been subbed off by the head coach less than five minutes into a training match. From basic technique to game awareness, even simple positioning—Su Bai, who'd never received formal training, was leagues below the rest.
From that day on, he'd become a ghost in the Borussia Dortmund U18 squad.
The club fed him, but otherwise, no one paid him the slightest attention.
And today was the final day of those three months.
Every U18 player was waiting for the head coach to show up, give Su Bai a token few minutes on the pitch, then send him packing.
Su Bai finished his training and sat quietly on the sidelines, eyes closed as if he'd fallen asleep.
His so-called teammates snickered among themselves at the sight.
None of them knew, however, that at this very moment, Su Bai was…
Ding!
Congratulations, Host, on completing 100,000 basic cone dribbling repetitions!
Live Football System successfully activated!
Ding!
Congratulations, Host, on receiving a Beginner's Pack!
Live Stats Panel unlocked!
Truth be told, this Su Bai wasn't the Su Bai of this world at all.
The original Su Bai had been watching the Winter Olympics at home when he'd jumped for joy after seeing a South Korean player sent off for a foul—only to slip, fall, and die on the spot.
When he woke up, he was this Su Bai.
Like every other transmigrator, he had a system.
But the system had been locked from the start, only activating once he finished 100,000 basic cone drills.
It had been absolute torture for Su Bai.
For three long months, he'd trained day and night on nothing but the most fundamental cone dribbling.
Finally, on this last day, he'd hit the 100,000 mark—and the system was online.
Su Bai hurriedly pulled up his stats panel.
Attack: 69 | Ball Control: 64 | Passing: 63
Shooting: 65 | Heading: 68 | Set Pieces: 66
Curve: 66 | Pace: 80 | Power: 75
Jumping: 74 | Physicality: 72 | Stamina: 88
Defending: 58 | Tackling: 65
Overall Rating: 67 | Age: 17
Holy crap.
Su Bai's heart sank.
With stats like these, he wouldn't just get rejected by Dortmund U18—he wouldn't even make the youth teams of the Chinese Super League or China League One.
He was completely useless.
Su Bai lost all hope of playing football.
Beginner's Pack has been delivered!
Please claim your reward, Host!
Just then, the system spoke up, almost sounding sympathetic.
Su Bai perked up a little.
Right—he still had the Beginner's Pack!
Maybe it would give him maxed-out all-around stats, letting him dominate world football!
Crush Ronaldo, outplay Messi!
With that thought, Su Bai quickly opened the pack.
Congratulations, Host!
You have received 1 Max Stat Card!
Can be used to raise any one of your stats to maximum level!
Su Bai's head was spinning. Excited as he was, he immediately scanned his stats again.
Shooting, obviously. Max that out, and he'd be unstoppable.
Just blast goals left and right!
He rushed to use the card, aiming straight for his shooting stat.
But at that exact moment, the Dortmund U18 head coach arrived.
He called Su Bai's name several times, but Su Bai was too focused on the system to look up.
The assistant coach grew impatient, walked over, and shoved him.
The jolt snapped Su Bai out of the system interface.
And in that split second of distraction, he accidentally used the Max Stat Card—not on shooting, but absurdly, on passing.
Su Bai stared blankly at the entire squad now looking at him.
At the same time, the system's voice rang out again.
Ding!
Congratulations, Host! Your Passing stat has been raised to MAX LEVEL!
Training Points unlocked!
...
Su Bai was dumbfounded.
He was a striker, for God's sake.
What the hell was he supposed to do with maxed-out passing?