Nordic Giant

Sure enough, more fans showed up at De Toekomst in the afternoon.

Each training pitch was packed with spectators crowding around the perimeter, standing in a dark mass. Despite the numbers, they all followed the on-site rules conscientiously, staying behind the wire fence to avoid disturbing the players inside.

There weren't too many players left in the final selection. They were divided by age group into different areas. Yang Yang's group, the sixteen-to-eighteen age bracket, had only about fifty people, split into four teams for two matches, each lasting thirty minutes. Every team also got three Ajax first-team players to bolster their ranks.

Henk Dimer was a bit listless after the morning's events, especially when he saw Vincent Weijl. But the latter kept shooting provocative glances at Yang Yang.

The coach organizing the group matches tried to assign players to their familiar positions so they could perform at their best. One was a left-back, the other a right winger—they were directly matched up.

Yang Yang didn't take Vincent Weijl's provocation seriously at all. He followed the coach's instructions methodically during warm-ups.

Suddenly, a burst of enthusiastic cheers erupted from the sidelines.

Yang Yang looked over and saw Ajax players filing into the training ground one after another.

They had clearly divided their duties beforehand. Over a dozen players, including Van der Vaart, Litmanen, and Pienaar, didn't linger and headed straight to the younger and middle age-group assessment areas. The remaining twelve players went to the older age group.

Yang Yang saw Van der Vaart, wearing the captain armband and leading the group, walk past the wire fence. He couldn't help but admire inwardly—handsome and a great footballer to boot. Really...

"I heard his relationship with that Sylvie is confirmed," Nick said, always one for gossip.

"They really are a perfect match," even the proud Henk Dimer had to concede.

As the most talented young prospect in the Netherlands right now, Van der Vaart was universally recognized as a genius and the hottest young player in Europe. It was said that many top clubs had their eyes on him, convinced he'd become a top-tier superstar in the future.

Yang Yang watched him pass by, feeling a twinge of envy. He quickly remembered his cousin's request and couldn't help but smile bitterly.

Before leaving this morning, his cousin Shen Yuzhu had specifically told him to get Van der Vaart's autograph no matter what. But now, it seemed he'd have to wait until after the assessment to see if there was a chance.

Once the first-team players arrived, the group assignments were officially announced.

Unfortunately, Yang Yang was placed in Group A, playing right winger, while Vincent Weijl ended up in Group B, playing left-back. They were actually going to face each other directly.

Seeing the list, Yang Yang couldn't help but shake his head. What lousy luck.

Vincent Weijl saw Yang Yang shaking his head and assumed he was scared by the matchup. He sneered behind him, "It's too late to regret now. I'm not that idiot Emanuelson."

Clearly, he had always attributed Yang Yang's standout performance in the Ajax versus Almere match to Emanuelson's poor defending. He and his teammates had never thought much of Almere's youth training players.

"Regret?" Yang Yang turned around, looking at the disdainful Vincent Weijl, a slight smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "I'm just feeling sorry for you. You're unlucky to have drawn me."

Vincent Weijl hadn't expected Yang Yang to talk back to him like that. His tone immediately turned threatening. "Just you wait. I won't go easy on you."

After all, he was a player who had spent five years in Ajax's youth training camp, known for his defensive skills. Handling a rookie from a third-tier amateur league should be a piece of cake, right?

"That's perfect. I was worried this match wouldn't have any fresh challenges," Yang Yang said flatly.

Henk Dimer and Nick were assigned to the other two groups, but since they weren't matched up, it didn't affect them much.

The three first-team players in Yang Yang's Group A were Ibrahimovic up front, Sneijder in midfield, and Trabelsi at right-back on the defensive line.

Seeing the list, Yang Yang couldn't help but glance over at the towering but lean Nordic Giant warming up on the pitch. Word had it he was quite controversial at Ajax.

Despite his massive frame, nearly two meters tall, he was actually known for his footwork and looked relatively thin. Outsiders always felt he wasn't the type of penalty-area killer Ajax favored.

In fact, since Ibrahimovic joined Ajax two seasons ago, his goal-scoring efficiency had never been high. Many believed that if Sonck could quickly step up as the main scorer after joining, Ronald Koeman, who wasn't satisfied with Ibrahimovic, might abandon the Nordic Giant.

Clearly, Ibrahimovic was under a lot of pressure heading into the new season.

Midfielder Sneijder was arguably Ajax's biggest discovery last season. After joining the first team, he quickly secured a starting midfield spot, becoming another homegrown youth benchmark after Van der Vaart. He had delicate footwork and a well-rounded skill set, capable of playing multiple positions in the midfield and attack.

Tunisian right-back Trabelsi was the oldest at twenty-six, now a renowned top-tier right-back in Europe. Many even compared him to Cafu. Big-name managers like Manchester United's Ferguson and Arsenal's Wenger had all called for him, but Ajax had no intention of letting him go.

They had already lost Van der Meide; losing Trabelsi too would cripple their entire right flank.

As Yang Yang was pondering this, the Group A coach blew his whistle and called the players to gather.

From a distance, it hadn't seemed like much, but up close, Yang Yang truly felt the pressure from Ibrahimovic.

Too tall!

At one meter ninety-five, he towered over Yang Yang by a huge margin.

Standing nearby, Yang Yang had to look up at him most of the time.

Luckily, the Nordic Giant's body was indeed quite lean, like a bamboo pole. If he were any more muscular, the pressure and intimidation he'd give off would be even more terrifying.

This was also a major point of dissatisfaction with Ibrahimovic among Ajax's staff. The Swede didn't seem keen on building up his physical strength, instead taking pride in his footwork.

"Hey, kid, if you keep staring at me like that, I'll punch you," Ibrahimovic finally said, turning his head with a displeased look and fixing Yang Yang with a menacing glare after a long moment.

"Sorry about that," Yang Yang said with an apologetic smile.

"No problem, I'm just kidding, haha!" Ibrahimovic cracked a wide grin and laughed heartily.

Seeing him laugh so cheerfully, Yang Yang shrugged helplessly. Bullying the new guy with your height—was that fun?

"You're playing right winger?" Ibrahimovic asked casually after his laughter subsided.

"Yeah," Yang Yang nodded.

"Can you cross?"

"Uh... kind of, but not very accurately," Yang Yang admitted honestly.

He had indeed been practicing [Beckham's Cross] recently, but the time was short—there was some effect, but he was far from mastering it.

Do everything with full effort, but never speak in absolutes—that was Yang Yang's nature.

"Mm, as long as you can cross, that's fine. Once the match starts, don't listen to that coach's nonsense. Just run to receive the ball, and when you have a chance, send it in—send it toward me, got it?" Ibrahimovic said seriously, giving instructions.

"Well..."

"Trust me, I'll definitely get to the ball. Their defender is Heitinga—that guy gets crushed by me in training every time. No one can take the ball from me."

The words were spoken with such overbearing confidence that Yang Yang almost believed him.

Where did this Nordic Giant get such self-assurance?

"Then at least tell me—which foot do you want it to? What kind of ball do you like?"

"Simple. Just don't send it to my head. Anywhere in front of the goal inside the penalty area is fine—left, middle, right, it all works. Low balls, half-height balls, even behind my ass if you feel like it—no problem. I'll catch it all."

Yang Yang gave a wry smile, thinking to himself, Dude, are you putting on a circus act?

"Alright, Zlatan, stop messing with him. How's he supposed to play like this?" Trabelsi, his dark skin glistening, came over and gently patted Yang Yang on the shoulder, then pointed at his own head. "Don't listen to him. He's under a lot of pressure lately—something's off up here."

"Say that again if you dare?" The Nordic Giant's face darkened.

Trabelsi shrugged innocently, his round eyes set in his dark face seeming to say, I didn't say anything—don't pin it on me.

Ibrahimovic didn't press it. He flicked a ball up from the grass and started juggling it with all kinds of flashy tricks.

Despite his towering frame, there wasn't a hint of clumsiness in his footwork—his legs looked incredibly agile, pulling off one dazzling move after another with effortless ease, leaving Yang Yang, seeing it for the first time, quite amazed.

Damn, someone this tall and still this flexible—first time I've ever seen it.

The Swedish striker seemed pleased with Yang Yang's impressed expression, laughed heartily, and threw himself even more into the show.

This was Yang Yang's first encounter with a star from Ajax's First Team, and it felt a bit strange. Glancing over at Sneijder, who was juggling a ball by himself in the distance, seemingly finding his rhythm, he noticed that Sneijder hadn't exchanged a single word with Ibrahimovic or Trabelsi the entire time.

That reminded Yang Yang of what Nick had said at noon—was there really friction between Ajax's local players and the foreign imports?

But whether it was true or not, it had nothing to do with Yang Yang.

His only goal for the near future was to get into Ajax's Second Team and play under Van Basten.

Thinking of that, Yang Yang suddenly realized he hadn't seen Van Basten yet today.

Scanning the spectators along the sideline, he quickly spotted a familiar figure in the crowd.

Van Gaal had arrived.

The Van Basten Yang Yang was looking for stood right next to him, and on the other side was a man noticeably shorter than both of them—a slightly plump Dutch Middle-aged Man. If he wasn't mistaken, that should be Ajax's Head Coach, Ronald Koeman.

Suddenly, a hint of nervousness crept into Yang Yang's heart.