What the F***

"Team Leader Du, I want to know why I wasn't allowed to play in yesterday's match." Chen Anno stood in the office, his eyes fixed stubbornly on the pot-bellied man before him.

"Eh... is that you, Xiao Nuo?" Du Ziteng looked up, his face wearing a formulaic smile. "Look at you, always so impatient. Young man, why can't you learn to be a bit more steady?"

"Team Leader Du!" Chen Anno's voice rose. He was finished listening to this guy's gaslighting; he had heard enough of these words in the nearly two months since arriving at the U17 National Team.

He stared into Du Ziteng's eyes and said, word for word, "I just want to know, in yesterday's match against the Myanmar Team, we were clearly struggling, so why still not let me play?"

Seeing Chen Anno's reddening eyes, Du Ziteng's expression collapsed instantly. "Chen Anno, which players get to play is the head coach's decision. What does that have to do with me?"

"Du, don't you dare pull that crap on me! I've already been to see the head coach!" At this point, Chen Anno had truly had enough.

Du Ziteng slammed a file onto the desk and glared at the boy, but the stubborn Chen Anno didn't show the slightest intention of backing down, continuing to stare at him without blinking.

"Tch..." Du Ziteng curled his lip in disdain. "Chen Anno, I advise you to be a bit more polite when you talk to me. Don't think that just because I'm only a U17 team leader, you can shout at me like that..."

Du Ziteng leaned his left hand on the desk, his body tilting forward with an insufferable arrogance as he held up one finger with his right hand.

"One word! I only need one word! I can absolutely make it so you can't survive in the football circle, and you won't even be able to return to your current club. Do you... believe me?"

Sure enough, the boy who had been so stubborn just a moment ago saw his pupils contract, a flash of retreat crossing his eyes, though he quickly lifted his head again.

"Team Leader Du, you've already taken my money! You can't just go back on your word!"

"Money?" A look of contempt remained on Du Ziteng's face. "Aren't you already a player for the National Youth Team? If it weren't for your second uncle begging me, do you think you could have gotten in here for a mere hundred thousand? Don't be so damn naive!"

Du Ziteng sat back in his chair and leaned back, looking at the red-eyed Chen Anno. "Still want to play?"

"Heh... don't think I don't know. You want to join the National Youth Team just to show off at next year's AFC U-16 Championship, then use public opinion to pressure your club into giving you a spot on the first team to play in the Chinese Super League.

I suggest you give up that pipe dream. If I actually let you play, how would I answer to the other players who paid three hundred thousand or five hundred thousand?"

"Haa... haa..."

The boy's chest heaved. Having grown up in Brazil, he didn't understand why it was always so complicated when he just wanted to play football based on his own ability.

It was like this at his club, and it was the same—if not worse—here at the National Youth Team.

"Xiao Nuo..." Du Ziteng's voice came again.

"If you ask me..., you just can't let go of your former idol baggage. Still thinking about being one of the Twin Stars of Sao Paulo State?" Du Ziteng shook his head.

"Look at Neymar. He transferred to Barcelona for 88 million euros in the winter window this year. And you? One of the former Twin Stars, and you can't even get a game in the Chinese Super League. (Note: Neymar went to Barcelona in the summer of 2013; for the sake of the plot, he has been moved up.)

Xiao Nuo..., you grew up in Brazil and don't understand the rules here, so I won't hold today against you.

Around here, whether it's a national-level team or a club, everything is based on seniority. You're only 17; all those U23 seniors are still waiting in line. What are you in such a rush for?

It's not that I, Team Leader Du, am criticizing you, but wouldn't it be better to just take things one steady step at a time? As long as you are 'sensible,' you'll eventually get to be a starter, won't you?" Du Ziteng emphasized the word "sensible" heavily.

Knock, knock, knock...

At that moment, a knock sounded at the office door.

"Come in..." Du Ziteng called out, waving his hand at Chen Anno to signal him to leave first.

Chen Anno took a deep breath. He understood that continuing to argue wouldn't lead anywhere, so he simply turned and walked out.

As he left, he brushed shoulders with the person entering: Ma Ping, Du Ziteng's number one lackey.

Clack...

After Chen Anno left, Ma Ping slammed the door shut. As he turned around, his face immediately shifted into a sycophantic expression.

"Heh heh... Team Leader Du, taking time out of your busy schedule to mentor a young player—it's truly a blessing for our National Youth Team. No wonder that kid likes to stay behind for extra training alone; it seems he's been well-taught by you, Team Leader Du..."

Du Ziteng rolled his eyes, reached for a pack of Nanjing 95s on the desk, and tossed one to Ma Ping. "If you have something to say, spit it out. I'm busy!"

"Yes, yes..." Ma Ping caught the cigarette with both hands, took two quick steps forward, and pulled out his lighter to light it for his leader.

Du Ziteng was quite satisfied with Ma Ping's performance and gestured for him to speak.

"It's like this, Leader. The Guangzhou Team says they want to send someone in. What do you think..." Ma Ping asked cautiously.

Du Ziteng frowned upon hearing this. "Didn't you tell them the roster is full?"

"I did, Leader, but... but they insisted I ask you to consider it..." Lowering his head, Ma Ping leaned in close to Du Ziteng's ear. "They said..., they can offer eighty."

Hearing this, Du Ziteng raised an eyebrow. "They're quite generous, then..."

"So... Leader, should we take someone out from the current roster?"

"Eh..." Du Ziteng immediately raised his hand to cut Ma Ping off. "You know the current players all paid their entry fees. How can we be so unprofessional in our work?"

Ma Ping was stunned, wondering to himself: Is this gluttonous man actually starting to talk about integrity today?

However, before he could speak, Du Ziteng continued.

"However..., playing football is a high-contact sport. If someone were to suddenly get injured during training and have to withdraw, that would be a perfectly normal occurrence, wouldn't it?"

With that, Du Ziteng glanced at Ma Ping. "Xiao Ma, what do you think?"

Ma Ping's eyes lit up. Good guy, that's ruthless. No wonder he's the leader.

"Yes, yes... the leader is absolutely right! Then... who should we have get injured?"

Du Ziteng immediately glared at him. "What kind of talk is that? How would I know who's going to get injured? I'm not a fortune teller!"

Thud!

"Smack..." Ma Ping realized he had misspoken and immediately slapped himself across the face. "You're right, sir. How could anyone have predicted such an accident? Well... sir, I'll go get back to work then?"

Du Ziteng waved his hand in disgust. Just as Ma Ping turned to leave, he spoke up again, slow and languid.

"Ahem... I get the feeling that Chen Anno's health hasn't been great lately. Look, he's been with the team for so long and hasn't played a single match. When you have a moment, help me check in with the head coach. No matter how busy we are... we still have to look after the players' well-being, right, Little Ma?"

Ma Ping, who had been busy contemplating who to injure, suddenly understood. He turned back, head bowed, and said, "I understand, sir. I'll go find the head coach right away..."

Suddenly, a thunderous crash echoed through the room as the office door was kicked open with brute force.

"Du Ziteng! You son of a bitch!"

Following the roar, a figure lunged into the room. He first kicked the stunned Ma Ping aside, then charged toward Du Ziteng behind the desk.

"Chen Anno!! How dare you! Ouch... Chen Anno, you're finished... Ouch... I'm not done with you, you little bastard! Don't even think about staying in the football world... Ouch..."

Less than a minute later, two pig-headed men lay in the office. Amidst the astonished gazes of the onlookers, Chen Anno fished an old-fashioned burner phone from beneath the desk, shoved it into his pocket, and strode away.

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