Super Training Ground

Yang Yang!

The voice was getting closer and closer.

He had no idea how long or how far he had run before a faint light appeared ahead, tearing through this dark world.

The sudden light was so harsh that he could not keep his eyes open and had to shut them. After finally adjusting to the brightness and opening them again, he at last saw where he was.

It was actually a football pitch!

The soft emerald turf, the goals at either end, the white lines on the field, and the empty stands...

Every bit of it was all too familiar to him.

"Where is this?" Yang Yang asked, as though speaking to the air.

Yet, unexpectedly, he truly received an answer.

"Welcome to the Super Training Ground."

Hearing that icy voice, utterly devoid of emotion, Yang Yang could not help turning to look around, but there was not a single person in sight.

"Who? Who is that?" he shouted.

"You don't need to be afraid. I'm here to help you," the cold voice sounded again.

"Help me?" Yang Yang found it utterly inconceivable. "Help me with what?"

"Don't you want to become a professional player and share the pitch with Ronaldo?"

"Yes, but..."

"I can help you," the voice said with absolute certainty.

Yang Yang could not believe his ears. He felt that he had to be dreaming—he had to be. Otherwise, how could he explain something this absurd happening to him?

"Don't doubt it. You really are dreaming. Look."

As soon as the voice fell silent, the area around the main stand suddenly blurred. Then the image shifted, revealing a scene Yang Yang knew intimately. Wasn't that his room? And the person sleeping soundly in the bed—wasn't that him?

"Th-this... what is going on?" Yang Yang was stunned.

The image shifted again, returning to the empty main stand, but the other party offered no further explanation.

"This is the Super Training Ground."

Yang Yang took several deep breaths, doing his best to calm himself. He was certain that something strange had happened to him.

The other party seemed to think that he needed time to compose himself and did not speak again.

After several minutes of silence, Yang Yang finally gathered his courage once more.

"You said just now that you could help me. How?"

It had to be said that sharing the pitch with a superstar like Ronaldo was Yang Yang's lifelong dream. It was simply too tempting.

"Within the Super Training Ground, as long as you are willing to work hard, you can become the best and greatest superstar in the world."

"How is that possible?"

"You don't believe me?"

Yang Yang nodded without hesitation.

Almere's Head Coach, John Rep, had once been a Dutch International. He had been teammates with Cruyff at Ajax, where the two had won multiple Eredivisie and Champions League titles together. After moving through several top-flight clubs, he joined Saint-Étienne, where he helped the team win the Ligue 1 title and finish as runners-up in the UEFA Cup alongside Platini.

It was precisely because of his influence in Dutch football and at Ajax that John Rep had been able to make Almere—founded less than seven years earlier—a satellite club of Ajax, helping it rise into the third tier of Dutch football, with hopes of reaching the second-tier professional league this season.

And John Rep, with his sharp eye for talent, had more than once expressed regret to Yang Yang. He believed that Yang Yang was good in every respect except for one: his fundamentals were far too poor. At sixteen, he had already missed the best age to build a solid foundation.

How was Yang Yang supposed to believe it?

"Fine. See for yourself."

As the voice faded, the scene surrounding the entire training ground shifted again. Numerous lifelike figures of football stars appeared: Pele, Maradona, Van Basten, Ronaldo, Zidane... Every one of them was immensely familiar to Yang Yang, and he could name their accomplishments like the back of his hand.

"This is..." Yang Yang was somewhat confused.

"You can choose any one of them and give it a try," the cold voice said again.

Yang Yang pondered for a moment, then pointed at one of his most admired idols, Ronaldo.

With a thought, all the other stars around the training ground immediately dimmed, leaving only Ronaldo, dressed in red and blue, still shining brightly as he quickly walked onto the pitch.

A defensive player in a white jersey suddenly appeared on the field as well, taking up a defensive stance in his own half.

Ronaldo sprinted forward with the ball. His entire dribbling run was exceptionally smooth, every touch perfectly comfortable. When he reached the defender, his right shoulder suddenly dipped, but his right foot did not pull the ball away. Instead, after planting his foot firmly, he pushed off hard with his right foot and cut to the left. With a touch from his left foot, both he and the ball went straight past the defender.

The entire sequence happened in the blink of an eye, yet it left Yang Yang utterly shaken.

Because there was not the slightest hint of flashiness in Ronaldo's dribble. The technique was incredibly simple, yet immensely practical and devastating.

This was Ronaldo's signature move: the Pendulum Dribble.

As a diehard fan of the Brazilian superstar, how could Yang Yang not recognize it? But seeing it on television and watching it up close with his own eyes were completely different experiences. The impact could not be compared at all.

Beyond the Pendulum Dribble, the demonstration on the training ground continued, covering nearly all of Ronaldo's dribbling moves during high-speed attacks. Every single movement left Yang Yang, watching from close range, dumbfounded.

The gap was simply too vast—so vast that he almost felt the urge to worship him.

Speed had always been his advantage, but once he had the ball at his feet, his pace dropped sharply. Yet the Ronaldo demonstrated on the training ground showed no distortion in his technique even at high speed, ensuring that his pace during dribbling runs barely declined.

Looking at his jersey again, it was clearly Ronaldo at his peak during his time with Barcelona.

"This is Ronaldo's Rush." Only after Yang Yang had calmed himself did the cold voice speak again.

"Let me look at the others."

With a thought, Yang Yang raised a hand and pointed at the figure of another one of his idols, Van Basten.

This time, it showed the Dutch superstar both inside and around the penalty area, using every imaginable shooting technique and every part of his feet. His legs moved with remarkable freedom, and all kinds of high-difficulty shooting motions seemed to carry a captivating beauty and rhythm when performed by him, leaving Yang Yang staring in a daze.

He had watched Van Basten's match footage and highlights more than once, but he had never been as shaken as he was now.

Only those who had truly played on a football pitch could understand how astonishing it was to pull off such difficult moves while facing tight defense.

Was this what a true superstar was like?

After digesting the shock brought by his two idols, Yang Yang quickly turned his attention to the demonstrations of other great players.

Pele's rhythm, Maradona's dribbling, Bergkamp's Control, Cruyff Turn, Zidane's ball control...

It was not just attacking players. There were players from the midfield and back line as well. From attacking and passing to defending, nearly every star whose name Yang Yang could recall had left behind their finest performances on the training ground. Every single one left him dumbfounded, unable to calm down for a long time.

This was what a true superstar was!

"Do you have anything to say?" After a long silence, the cold voice asked again.

Yang Yang took a deep breath. "Can the Super Training Ground really help me?"

"Of course," the cold voice replied without the slightest hesitation.

"But our coach says my fundamentals are too poor. That I've already missed the best age to build them up, that I simply..." Yang Yang's voice turned bitter. This was the greatest pain he had carried thus far.

Though he understood that it was not because he had failed to work hard enough in the past, but because his coaches had been limited in ability, he still could not accept it. He refused to accept it, and he was unwilling to resign himself to it.

"He is right. You have indeed missed the best age to lay a solid foundation. Following your current trajectory, barring anything unexpected, you will be eliminated this summer. After returning home, if you can join a professional team, you may still have a chance to play in matches, but it will be difficult for you to achieve much. You would be better off taking his advice and focusing on your studies. That would offer you a brighter future."

Though he had mentally prepared himself for it, hearing those words still made Yang Yang feel awful.

After a pause, the cold voice spoke again.

"But in the Super Training Ground, it is entirely possible."

"Really?" A spark of hope suddenly rose in Yang Yang.

"Of course," the cold voice replied again, leaving no room for doubt. "Although you have missed the best age, it is not completely impossible for you to improve your fundamentals. It is simply far less efficient now than it would have been before the age of twelve."

Yang Yang immediately asked anxiously, "Then what do I need to do?"

"Train. Repeat those dull, tedious basic drills over and over for a long time."

"That's it?" Yang Yang was a little surprised. Wasn't that too simple?

"Yes. As long as you train your fundamentals well and meet my requirements, you can learn these Star Skills."

Yang Yang's eyes immediately lit up. So these were called Star Skills.

Looking at the superstars around the pitch, some retired and some still in their prime, his heart surged with excitement. Learning even one move would be enough to establish himself on the professional stage, let alone so many of them.

"Learning them is easy. Using them is hard." The cold voice seemed to sense what he was thinking and promptly doused his enthusiasm.

Thinking it over, Yang Yang realized that was true.

Ronaldo's Pendulum Dribble, Zidane's Marseille Turn, the Cruyff Turn—forget professional players, even Yang Yang himself could perform those flashy moves. But he could only show them off in ordinary training; once he got onto the pitch, he could not use them at all. Especially after coming to the Netherlands, even in daily training, once defenders applied pressure, he could not even execute some of the most basic technical movements properly.

"I understand." Yang Yang nodded, having learned his lesson.

"Can you endure that hardship?" the cold voice asked again for confirmation.

"I can!" Yang Yang answered without hesitation.

"You should know how dull and tedious the most basic drills are, and how difficult the challenges ahead will be. Have you prepared yourself mentally?"

Yang Yang understood that an important reason John Rep had concluded that he could no longer improve was that, at his age, no one could endure going back to repeat those dull and tedious foundational drills.

It required not only tremendous determination, but also exceptional self-discipline.

But he had no other choice.

Either he gave up on his dream and returned home in disgrace, or he trained.

Yang Yang took a deep breath. "I can do it."

Playing in a professional league was his greatest dream, and this was his final chance. No matter how difficult or painful it became, he would persevere.

"Very well. Then the first step begins with keepie-uppies."

"Keepie-uppies?"

This was the first required lesson for everyone who played football. When he had first come into contact with football at the age of ten, he had started with keepie-uppies.

"Once you can do five hundred consecutive touches, we'll move on to the next step."

"Five hundred in a row?" Yang Yang was a little surprised. Wasn't that too easy?

When he had played football back home, his coach had considered one hundred touches a passing grade. Over the years, especially since coming to the Netherlands, he had continued to strengthen this aspect of his training. Five hundred consecutive touches would not be difficult for him.

But just as he secretly began to feel pleased with himself, the cold voice shattered his pleasant illusion again.

"The left and right insteps, the insides of the feet, the outsides of the feet, the fronts of both thighs, plus both shoulders and the head—eleven body parts in total. You must be able to do five hundred consecutive touches with every one of them before you qualify."

"What?" Yang Yang's expression changed completely.

Now he was in trouble.

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