Ran into trouble

Lisbon, Restelo Stadium.

Scout Figueiredo hurried to the door of technical director Carlos's office and knocked hard twice.

"Come in." Carlos's familiar voice came from inside.

Figueiredo opened the door and went in, walked straight to the other side of the desk, reached into the document pouch in his hand, took out a crudely packaged VCD, and gently placed it on the desk in front of Carlos.

"Boss, this just came from Sporting Portugal."

Carlos glanced at it. The team's name was written on it in thick black marker, along with the number 36.

"Still about that Chinese player?" Carlos asked flatly.

A week ago, Sporting Portugal had sent over a player report. It was about a young player on their team.

In the scouting report, head coach Gorba had been full of praise for the player, believing he possessed ability that stood out among his peers, that his rate of improvement was astonishing, that his talent was quite high, and that his future was worth looking forward to.

Belenenses could not be considered one of Portugal's top giants, but they were, after all, a Portuguese Super League team.

As technical director, Carlos had seen plenty. He had gone through countless player profiles, and the player videos and VCDs sent in could be said to pile up like mountains. Every scout, every agent, would rack their brains to talk up their own players, dressing them up with all kinds of flowery language.

These people were like eloquent, shrewd, capable salesmen, and what they wanted to sell was a commodity called a player. Carlos had long since grown used to it.

So when Sporting Portugal recommended him, although Gorba's description was not especially exaggerated, in Carlos's eyes it was nothing more than a small team's way of marketing a player, along with the overstatement that came from having seen too little of the world.

Among the mountains of player material, how many geniuses could really be dug out?

And over the past week, Sporting Portugal had submitted a total of three reports on that Chinese player. Their eagerness was plain to see.

"Yes. They went to the Madeira Islands yesterday to play a match. The opponent was Maritimo's reserves."

"He scored again?" Carlos raised his head slightly and asked.

Figueiredo nodded. "Another one."

"Gorba really is putting in the effort. I'd guess their finances are in quite a tight spot right now." The corners of Carlos's mouth lifted in a faint smile.

Figueiredo knew this was also a common trick used by many teams.

"But I think you should take a look."

Only then did Carlos lift his head and look seriously at the scout under him. "What do you think?"

"This time it was a volley inside the penalty area. The difficulty wasn't that high, but..." Figueiredo paused, considering his words. "Watching him play, I feel he's a little like Batistuta."

"The God of War?" Carlos was somewhat surprised.

"A little."

Carlos nodded.

It was nothing new for young players to imitate famous stars with similar traits. It could even be said to be a common characteristic of the vast majority of young players. And there were many people who imitated the God of War, Batistuta, because there were simply too many fans who liked the Argentinian God of War.

Of course, most of these fans had excellent physiques and great strength. Only then could they play with a bit of Batistuta's flavor.

"Wait. You just said a volley?" Carlos suddenly thought of something.

"Yes." Figueiredo nodded. "There's a bit of a tap-in feel to this goal, and it wasn't that difficult, but to be honest, just like the previous two goals, it's very rare among young players."

Carlos looked at the disc in front of him, nodded, and said, "All right. Leave it here for now. I'll take a look later when I have time."

Just as Figueiredo was about to turn and leave, Carlos added an instruction. "Give Gorba a call, find out the situation, and look for a chance to go watch him live."

Figueiredo agreed.

He understood in his heart that Belenenses were, after all, a Portuguese Super League team, and they were not particularly focused on a young player from such a low level.

In any case, he was at a satellite club, so there was no worry about him running off.

At the same time, a few kilometers north of Restelo Stadium, at Estádio da Luz, in Benfica's administrative office, scout Abel Silva also handed an identical disc to Luís Filipe Vieira, the director in charge of football operations.

"This is a player video I just got from Sporting Portugal. A young Chinese player has emerged there this season. His name is Su Dong, he just turned seventeen, and he scored three goals in the last two rounds of matches."

"Oh?" Vieira was very surprised.

The main reason was that this player came from China.

In recent years, Europe's major giants had all been intent on developing the Asian market, especially China.

As Portugal's top giant, Benfica had been somewhat turbulent these past two years, but they also had designs on the Chinese market.

Vieira did not say much. He directly took out the disc and put it into the optical drive of the computer tower beside him.

Before long, a video began playing on the computer screen. The image quality was rather blurry, barely clear enough to make out.

"If I remember correctly, Sporting Portugal are Belenenses' partner club, right?"

"Yes. They've been working with Belenenses for many years."

The two teams were very close to each other, and there was a great deal of exchange between them. There had even once been a case where a Belenenses player was loaned to Sporting Portugal to play matches, but still trained with Belenenses.

Lisbon's three strong Portuguese Super League teams all supported their own partner clubs in the city. Benfica, for example, had FT Benfica, Sporting Lisbon had Casa Pia, while Belenenses cooperated with Sporting Portugal.

In addition, there were also some teams that cooperated with multiple clubs at the same time, such as Amadora and Olhanense. These two teams were simultaneously partner clubs of Porto, Benfica, and Sporting Lisbon.

Teams like that usually had very strong youth academies and were excellent at developing players. Only then would they have enough bargaining chips.

Of course, as a big club, they would certainly work with more than just one club.

Take Benfica, for example. Although they had no partnership with Sporting Portugal, they were on close terms.

The Abel Silva standing before Vieira had come through Benfica's youth academy and had also spent many years playing for the first team, but a year ago, he had still been playing for Sporting Portugal. He had all sorts of ties with that club.

Back when Sporting Portugal wanted to bring in Canelas, it had been through Abel Silva's connections.

The two watched the slightly blurry match footage, most of their attention fixed on the player wearing number 36.

Especially after he struck that volley and scored the equalizer, the expression on Vieira's face clearly shifted.

"That shot showed quite a bit of quality," Vieira said.

"Yes. His awareness in his movement, his judgment of where the ball would drop, and the technique at the end—I feel like the way he plays is a bit like he's imitating Batistuta. It looks pretty good," Abel Silva said with a smile.

Vieira nodded. "It is rather interesting."

Last year, Benfica held a presidential election. The incumbent president, Azevedo, lost the campaign to the famous businessman Vilarinho, who adopted the same campaign strategy as Real Madrid president Florentino, tying his bid to Benfica legend Toni and winning over the fans' votes completely. After being elected, Vilarinho even forced out former head coach Jose Mourinho, who had just led the team to a 3–0 victory over Sporting Lisbon and won the highly anticipated city derby.

Not long ago, former president Azevedo had been sent to prison on suspicion of money laundering.

Benfica's finances were in terrible shape. That was why Vilarinho had come to power, and after taking office, he had no choice but to begin sweeping reforms. He wanted to build a young, energetic, and competitive team, and last season's sixth-place finish in the league was the price paid for that reform.

After the reforms, Benfica had developed an inexplicable craving for young players, especially after seeing talent emerge one after another from the youth academy of their city rivals, Sporting Lisbon—Quaresma, Marcelino, and Cristiano Ronaldo...

Especially that Ronaldo.

It was said that Sporting Lisbon's Technical Director had recently recommended him to Freitas, a senior figure in the national team setup, hoping to get him into the National Youth Team. "Although Quaresma is red-hot right now, please believe me, Rony is the hope of Portuguese football for the next decade or so."

Not many people knew about those words. Vieira was one of them.

As one side rose and the other fell, with their rival overflowing with talent, Benfica felt deeply worried.

Bringing in high-level talent had thus become Vieira's top priority.

"Abel, contact Sporting Portugal right away. We're going to watch their next match in person."

After saying that, Vieira thought for a moment and reminded him, "Be quick. Don't give our rivals time to react."

Abel Silva nodded.

He knew very well that the rivals mentioned here were not only Belenenses, but other teams as well.

Su Dong did not know that he had successfully attracted Benfica's attention. He still went on as usual.

The team returned to Lisbon from the Madeira Islands overnight. At dawn the next day, Su Dong got up on time to train, then headed to Edward VII Park Stadium.

Rony had also long guessed that Su Dong would do this, and the two trained like mad on the park's indoor football court.

Only when they were worn out did they rest at the side of the pitch.

Su Dong casually handed over a bottle of Bull, then twisted open the cap of the one in his hand and gulped it down.

The drinks exchanged from the System Store really were good stuff. After drinking them, his stamina recovered noticeably faster while resting.

Rony, however, looked weighed down with worries.

"What's wrong? Run into trouble?" Su Dong asked with concern.

Rony sighed and nodded. "A little trouble."

Su Dong thought it was something at home and immediately remembered his addict brother. He felt somewhat helpless.

There was nothing he could do about something like that, and it was not his place to comment, so he could only keep silent.

Rony did not take the initiative to talk about it either, and Su Dong did not ask, so a silence fell between them.

Only when he had almost finished a bottle of water did Rony suddenly let out a sigh and say in a tone full of grief and indignation, "I want to change my agent!"

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