Chelsea Scout

The team's first-choice goalkeeper, Sebastian Mielitz, was practicing penalty tactics with his teammates. Telekom Cup matches often went all the way to a Penalty Shootout.

So they needed to rehearse taking and defending penalties in advance, lest they be caught unprepared when the time came.

Taking free kicks at an empty goal always felt like something was missing, so Lin Quan went and asked the team's backup goalkeeper, Wolf, to guard the net.

Wolf might have been the second-choice keeper, but anyone who could serve as a backup for a Bundesliga team was naturally no slouch.

Facing shots from De Bruyne and Lin Quan, he leaped high and low, collecting almost every attempt they made.

"Kevin, your shot speed isn't fast enough, and the trajectory is too easy to read. If the goalkeeper is focused, it'll be hard for you to threaten the goal!"

Wolf saw that De Bruyne wanted to practice knuckleballs, so he offered a reminder.

"You need to add more variation to the ball!"

De Bruyne put his hands on his hips and stared at the ball on the ground in thought.

Add more variation to the ball?

How was he supposed to do that?

A knuckleball required controlling the spin while keeping the ball speed high. Pulling off that kind of shot was difficult enough already.

Adding even more variation made him feel like it was beyond him.

"Want me to give it a try?"

Lin Quan had spent half the day practicing outside-of-the-foot shots, but he still felt they lacked Quaresma's flair. So he became interested in the knuckleballs De Bruyne was practicing.

He did not know whether Messi's arsenal included such a move. It seemed Messi always preferred curling his free kicks, and Lin Quan had never seen him take a knuckleball.

De Bruyne nodded and stepped aside.

Lin Quan stood at the spot, took a deep breath, and recalled the movements of several knuckleball masters.

Cristiano Ronaldo, Pirlo, Juninho...

He took several steps back, sprinted forward, picked his contact point, and swung his leg through the ball.

Wolf did not move in front of the goal, and naturally, there was no ball in the net either.

So where had the ball gone?

At that moment, a young man at the sidelines who had nearly been knocked unconscious by the ball felt utterly miserable.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Lin Quan hurried over to the sidelines and apologized to him.

He had failed to control the angle and launched the ball like an anti-aircraft shell. It flew more than fifty meters before finally coming down.

The other man rubbed his spinning head while looking up at the culprit, seemingly determined to remember exactly which bastard had kicked him.

When he saw Lin Quan's green jersey and the number 10 printed on it, he seemed to realize something.

"You're that Werder Bremen winger?"

Lin Quan was a little surprised. He had only played one official match, yet even random passersby recognized him now?

Wait, could this guy be a spy sent by Dortmund to gather intelligence?

Probably only a rival would pay special attention to the opposing team's players, Lin Quan thought.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is George Evans. I'm a scout from Chelsea. I watched footage of your match yesterday, and you were excellent!"

"Thanks. A Chelsea scout... are you here to follow Kevin's performances?"

When Lin Quan heard him introduce himself, he immediately understood.

His teammate De Bruyne was a Chelsea player. Chelsea had spent eight million pounds to bring him in, so they would certainly care about how he was doing while out on loan.

Sending a scout to follow and observe him was perfectly normal. Still, this scout was far too young, looking barely over twenty.

At that age, he was obviously a newcomer among scouts and had little say at the club.

Chelsea sending someone like him to observe De Bruyne showed that they did not value De Bruyne that highly.

"More or less. But the team's forwards have all been performing poorly, so I've also been tasked with scouting forwards from other teams!"

"Then who are you scouting right now?"

After hearing that, Lin Quan casually asked.

Chelsea's lack of firepower up front was no secret in football.

When they had spent a hefty fifty million pounds to take Liverpool's star striker Torres, they had imagined that El Niño would tear through Stamford Bridge and score goals for fun.

Who would have thought that their fifty million pounds would buy them a complete flop? Due to injuries and tactical incompatibility, Torres had struggled badly at Chelsea.

Two seasons had passed, and in sixty appearances for the club, he had scored only ten goals. His scoring efficiency was atrocious!

Although Chelsea had won the Champions League last season, they had done so through defense rather than attack.

If they did not solve their attacking problems soon, their results this season would surely plummet.

Thus, Chelsea had spent that summer waving checkbooks around the world in search of forwards.

They first spent thirty-five million euros to bring Hazard from Lille, then spent another eight million euros to buy Marko Marin from Werder Bremen.

Then they spent another thirty-two million euros on Internacional attacking midfielder Oscar...

That summer, Chelsea had already burned through more than one hundred million euros, and they showed no sign of stopping.

The deep-pocketed Abramovich said he was not short on money. He wanted to find Chelsea a marquee name, preferably one of the very best forwards in football.

That was why rumors emerged that Chelsea had made an offer to Barca for Messi.

Of course, there was mostly speculation behind that story. After all, Manchester City had been willing to pay two hundred and fifty million pounds for Messi the year before, and Barca still had not let him go. Given the bad blood between Chelsea and Barca, Barca was even less likely to sell.

George glanced at Lin Quan. "Why are you asking about that?"

The club certainly could not casually reveal plans to buy players. If news leaked in advance, other clubs could easily rush in to compete or drive up the price.

"I'm just worried you might come poach another one of our forwards!"

Seeing that the other man was unwilling to say more, Lin Quan casually brushed it off.

"That won't happen. Your team has too few stars. We've already bought Marko Marin. Who else on your team would be worth Chelsea poaching?"

Uh...

That was the truth, even if it sounded unpleasant.

Werder Bremen's players did not have much potential or much future achievement in them. They did not even have a single star; they were all cheap, reliable workhorses.

So the players he was scouting could only be on Dortmund's side.

Considering Dortmund's performances last season, along with Manchester United buying Shinji Kagawa from Dortmund, it was perfectly normal for Chelsea to target Dortmund players.

He just did not know whom they had their eye on.

Was it the future elite center forward Lewandowski, or Dortmund's midfield core Götze?

Given Chelsea's depth among forwards and midfielders, they were more likely to want Lewandowski.

None of that had anything to do with him. Chelsea would not possibly spend money to buy him, and even if they did, he would not want to play for Chelsea.

The fierce physical confrontations of the Premier League were far too unfriendly for young players.

Before he gained the Injury Immunity talent, it would be better to stay obediently in the Bundesliga, a place suited for young prospects to level up.

Holding the ball, Lin Quan returned to the pitch and continued discussing the secrets of knuckleballs with De Bruyne.

Lin Quan had abundant theoretical knowledge, but he was slightly lacking in strength.

De Bruyne, meanwhile, had enough strength but lacked theoretical knowledge.

Theory was easy to learn, but building strength was not nearly so easy.

So Lin Quan taught De Bruyne his understanding of the theory behind knuckleballs and guided him in practicing them.

If De Bruyne could master this special skill, the team would have another option from free kicks in the future.

The morning training lasted only an hour and a half. After lunch, the team finally began tactical drills.

At five thirty in the afternoon, the players took the bus to Dortmund's home ground, Westfalenstadion, to familiarize themselves with the pitch in advance and warm up before the match.

At the same time, Dortmund's players also set out by bus, and the two teams unexpectedly ran into each other at the stadium entrance.

The Telekom Cup final was about to begin!