Not Inferior to Messi

"Sir, is there anything I can do for you?" Chen Anno looked at the graying head coach.

"Relax, Anno." Ramalho wore a gentle smile. "I just wanted to tell you that since you joined the team late, the State Championship and Copa Libertadores have already begun, so you can no longer be registered for them. But you still need to integrate into the team as quickly as possible. The national league starts next month, and only then will you have a chance to play. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I understand, sir." Chen Anno nodded. "I'll work hard to fit into the team and stay in form. I definitely won't let you or the club down."

"Very good! Go warm up with Milton first." Ramalho was quite satisfied with Chen Anno's attitude. He had also learned that Chen Anno had arrived at the training ground at eight that morning to practice set pieces. Every head coach loved young players who were both talented and hardworking.

"Short! Short!"

"Tempo! Short!"

"Move! Move!"

"Open up!"

Ramalho's voice rang constantly across the training ground, reminding the players what they needed to do.

Chen Anno braced himself against the defender behind him as the ball rolled toward his feet. He suddenly stepped forward, lightly flicked it with his heel, and spun around in one swift motion. The ball instantly slipped between the legs of the player behind him.

As Chen Anno completed his turn, he collected the ball that had rolled through. Just as he was about to pass it into the open space, Lucio came up.

Chen Anno reacted quickly. He stepped on the ball with his right foot and dragged it backward, then played a rabona pass to a teammate overlapping on the flank.

"Mm...!"

Chen Anno let out a muffled grunt and fell onto the grass.

Grimacing, he looked up at Lucio, who was pretending to be innocent. "You messing with me?"

Lucio curled his lip. "Kid, this is nothing. In a real match, the referee wouldn't even give this kind of physical contact a second glance."

If there had been a replay at the training ground, it would have clearly shown that after Chen Anno made his pass and was about to push forward to offer support, Lucio, beside him, subtly raised an elbow and drove it solidly into his ribs.

"Ptooey..."

Chen Anno spat out a blade of grass stuck to his lip, shot a glare at the old-timer who had no respect for his age, and threw himself back into training.

The stubborn look on his face nearly made Lucio laugh, but he quickly pulled a stern expression again.

"Pass it around, move the ball..."

"Yes, great! That's it..."

"Anno, watch your teammates' positions. Good..."

Ramalho was like a chatterbox, his mouth going nonstop.

Chen Anno had already been knocked down several times by Lucio, yet the teammates and coaches around them acted as if they had seen nothing.

Although most of Lucio's moves were well concealed, one or two had been obvious fouls, yet no one intervened.

"Anno looks like he already hates Lucio. Is this really okay?" Assistant coach Milton looked at Ramalho with some concern.

"If he can't even take this much, then he'll always be a flower raised in a greenhouse. The moment he's taken outside, he'll wilt." Ramalho was not worried in the slightest.

"That's not what I'm worried about. Young people have trouble controlling their tempers. I'm afraid Lucio might get a sack thrown over his head while walking home at night." Milton could not help laughing as he spoke.

"Uh..." Ramalho glanced at Chen Anno, who had just been tripped by Lucio again. "Anno should be a good kid, right? Mm... I trust he wouldn't do something like that."

It turned out that this five-on-five scrimmage had been specially arranged by the coaching staff for Chen Anno. The goal was to help him integrate into the team quickly while allowing him to experience the brutality of professional football in advance.

After all, real football was not simply a contest of tactics and individual ability. There were also all sorts of unspoken little tricks on the pitch.

Under the tutelage of Lucio, this veteran big brother, Chen Anno's progress was visible to the naked eye.

Not only had he learned to use his body and technique to avoid Lucio's little tricks as much as possible, he had also learned how to strike back.

Just moments ago, while turning during a dribble, Chen Anno had landed one on his big brother's stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of Lucio.

Still, young Chen Anno was no match for a seasoned operator like Lucio when it came to dirty tricks.

The ball came to Chen Anno's feet once again.

This time, he faced Lucio head-on. He first pushed the ball forward a step, hoping to test his opponent's reaction.

Then Chen Anno rapidly swept both feet over the ball, but Lucio remained unmoved.

Suddenly, Chen Anno nudged the ball outward with his right foot while shifting his center of gravity to the right. This time, Lucio finally moved...

Now!

A trace of mischief flashed in Chen Anno's eyes as his right ankle suddenly changed direction, snapping the ball back again.

An elastico?

Lucio inwardly cursed his mistake, but was the former Brazil captain really so easy to fool?

Though he was already thirty-five, years of experience allowed him to forcibly drag his balance back. But at that moment, he saw the faint upward curl at the corner of Chen Anno's lips.

Sure enough, Chen Anno pivoted on his right foot and suddenly spun one hundred and eighty degrees, dragging the returning ball backward with his left foot and leaving Lucio behind him in an instant.

Chen Anno executed the sequence with incredible fluidity.

Lucio's mind had already reacted, but his body could not keep up. He dropped straight onto the ground on his backside.

"Whoa...!!"

On the pitch, the teammates and coaches couldn't help applauding Chen Anno's performance.

That was Lucio—no one could easily send the former Brazil captain sprawling to the ground.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, Lucio's old face reddened as well.

"Hey...! Lucio, are you okay? Didn't twist that old back of yours, did you?" Chen Anno stepped forward and asked with feigned concern.

But there wasn't a trace of worry on the kid's face. Instead, it was full of teasing. Clearly, Chen Anno had remembered Lucio's various "evil deeds" against him and held a grudge.

How could Lucio fail to understand what he meant? Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine. You think you can hurt me? Train for another two or three years first."

"So, what do you think?"

In the head coach's office, Ramalho smiled at Lucio, who sat across from him.

"The kid is really good!" Lucio now looked nothing like the man on the pitch who had said Chen Anno needed a few more years of training.

"With his current ability, he'd have no major problem starting in the Top Five Leagues. Of course, if he improves his core strength, then I think... no defender would dare claim he could mark him one-on-one."

"Oh...?"

Ramalho was somewhat surprised. He knew perfectly well just how proud this Brazilian veteran was.

Back when they were at Inter Milan, they had beaten Messi's Barcelona to win the UEFA Champions League. For Lucio to rate Chen Anno so highly—how could that not surprise him?

"Then compared to Messi, who do you think is stronger?"

Lucio frowned and thought carefully for a while before shaking his head. "If we're talking about right now, Anno is still a little behind. He has far too little match experience. Of course, in another two years, as long as his mentality doesn't change, I think Anno might not necessarily be inferior to Messi."

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