Barcelona.
The dim conference room was silent.
More than a dozen pairs of eyes were fixed on the flat animated display on the LED screen.
Enrique kept dragging the progress bar, his brow slightly furrowed.
On the animated display.
The black dot marked with the number 10 suddenly severed the connections formed by several red dots.
The footage immediately switched to the Champions League match between Bayer Leverkusen and Roma.
A moment later.
Someone suddenly let out a gasp of amazement.
Breaking the silence of the tactical meeting.
"Bayer Leverkusen has shown us a way to break Roma's chain system."
"Perhaps the simplest and easiest way."
"The number 10 in the footage looks so much like you back then. Look at his three gestures—this was where Bayer Leverkusen gradually found a way to defeat Roma."
"La Masia's number 4!"
The staff turned on the lights.
A burly old man shifted in his seat and demanded loudly:
"Coach Enrique, Director Robert, I hope the two of you can give the supervisory board an explanation. Why was such a genius sold to Bayer Leverkusen for one million euros? In La Masia's thirty-six years, only two number 4s have ever emerged!"
Robert looked utterly embarrassed, as if he wanted to speak but could not.
The old man rose to his feet and strode out of the conference room.
The remaining staff exchanged looks.
Enrique waved a hand.
A moment later.
Only two people remained in the vast conference room.
Robert loosened his tie and said angrily, "Who does he think he is? I have to explain myself to the supervisory board? Bojan was far better than Leo Kang when he was seventeen! And where is he now?"
Enrique lightly tapped the table. "Bring Leo Kang back to Barcelona in the winter transfer window.