Lately, Tang Long had been keeping up with AI Cloud Training to improve his passing.
He was even spending less time watching match footage.
The problem, really, was one of balance.
The more match footage he fed into the AI System, the more its capabilities improved.
But one thing came at the expense of the other: Tang Long had less time for Cloud Training.
Sometimes he couldn't help lamenting, "If only I could do Cloud Training in my dreams!"
Aside from the issue of balancing the two,
Tang Long had also discovered a tricky problem.
He had been training with the practice dummy Iniesta at the Cloud Training facility for some time.
He had thought his passing stat would keep rising until it reached the max level of 99!
But ever since it had reached 70, it had improved at an extremely slow pace.
It had even stopped increasing altogether.
And so he was back to the same dilemma as before.
Should he use all the time outside of training, meals, and sleep to watch matches and improve the Cloud Training facility;
or make use of every spare moment to raise all his stats to their current thresholds?
Wednesday morning, Inter Milan's training ground.
Chivu stood on the top floor of the office building, holding a framed dossier and watching Inter Milan's players sweat it out on the pitch.
"Do you smoke cigars?" Mancini waved the cigar box in his hand. "Ausilio brought these back for me when he went on a paid trip to South America. They're right up my alley. Apparently, you can't get them in Italy."
Chivu smiled and declined.
"Mr. Mancini, even though I've retired, I've never smoked or drunk. I barely even touch carbonated drinks."
Mancini narrowed his eyes. The cigar smoke swirling around him made his expression difficult to read.
"I retired in 2001. The last stop of my playing career was Leicester City in the Premier League. Players in the Premier League liked to smoke in private, but I never touched a cigarette. The smell of smoke always made me want to throw up."
"But after I became a head coach—my first job was at Fiorentina—I picked up the habit."
"People say there are sixty million head coaches in Italy, and everyone has their own opinions about football. Being in charge of a Serie A team in this country comes with enormous pressure. Apart from smoking, I can't think of anything else that would relieve it. Chivu, can you?"
"I wouldn't know, Mr. Mancini. I've never managed a first team. Maybe I've never faced the difficulties you have." Chivu answered honestly.
Mancini nodded.
Then he stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray.
He stood with Chivu in front of the broad windows, looking down at the training ground from the seventh floor.
"You've watched training from this office for a few days. You saw the clashes between the factions the other day, too. What do you think?"
"I saw the whole thing. It was obviously because of Tang."
"And?"
"Clearly, Tang has a good relationship with both the Argentina Faction and the Italian Local Faction. Icardi and Ranocchia both stood up for him. I didn't expect that."
"Exactly. Tang has the locker room's support, which matters a lot to me." Mancini paused. "Of course, it's good for him, too."
Chivu raised the dossier in his hand.
[Special Training Plan for First-Team Player Tang]
"The training load is a bit heavy, and it'll take up his entire winter break. I have no problem with it, but I don't know if Tang will be willing."
"He'll have to be willing. You can rest assured about that, Chivu. There's a hunger for fame in his eyes. It'll bring out his fighting spirit and make him hunt down his prey like a hyena, never stopping."
"Mr. Mancini, I have to say, I'm glad we agree on how to develop Tang. I'm the only one in the entire youth team who believes in him."
"You don't need to thank me. Helping Tang is also helping myself. We both get what we need. When you're the head coach of a team someday, you'll understand."
Mancini ran a hand through his half-gray hair.
A few loose strands caught between his fingers.
He shook his head and let them fall.
"When I started my professional career at Bologna at seventeen, I was very young. I was still growing, even."
"We had a fullback named Cabralia who was still playing at thirty-eight."
"Back then, I thought thirty-eight was so far away. It was out of reach, as distant as the stars deep in the universe."
"But in the blink of an eye, I'm fifty. I once read a book of Eastern philosophy. A philosopher said that fifty was the age when you knew Heaven's decree. But what is my destiny?"
Chivu shrugged, looking puzzled.
"Mr. Mancini, that's too profound for me. I don't understand. If there's nothing else, training's almost over, so I'll head downstairs and find Tang."
Assistant coach Herrera blew the whistle to end training.
After the previous clash, everyone had been very restrained during this session.
There had been no major challenges.
The players were especially careful not to overdo it when tackling Tang.
As the players dispersed, a few of them noticed Chivu walking over.
"Huh, isn't that Mr. Chivu, the youth team's assistant coach? What's he doing here?"
"No idea. Training's already over."
"You guys don't know? Mancini promoted Chivu to the first team."
"What? Then old man Herrera's position is in danger."
"Yeah, with Chivu's standing at this club, there's no problem with him being Mancini's assistant."
Assistant coach Herrera noticed Chivu, too.
He knew what the players were expecting.
Herrera greeted Chivu with some awkwardness.
"Hey, you're here, Mr. Chivu!"
Chivu only nodded, saying nothing, and went straight over to Tang. The two began talking.
Herrera felt snubbed, a pang of bitterness rising in his heart.
"Wasn't I supposed to retire at the end of the season? Why does it feel like things are going differently than expected..."
"Mr. Chivu, we meet again!"
"We do, Tang!"
When the two reunited, they greeted each other with a tight embrace.
"How does it feel to play in Serie A? It's completely different from the youth league, right?"
"It's a completely different pace. Compared to the youth league, everyone moves one and a half times faster. The pace of attack and defense is incredibly quick. Even though I've only come on as a substitute each time, I still feel exhausted."
"How's your ankle?"
"It's so-so. Those two Genoa defenders had already clattered into me pretty hard, and then that Medel guy got me again a few days ago. I can move and run on it, but it still doesn't feel quite right."
Chivu nodded, then looked Tang up and down.
"Tang, take off your clothes."
Tang froze, then took them off.
"Not enough. Take off your pants, too. And your shoes, socks—everything! Take it all off!" Chivu said.
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