He didn’t finish his sentence, because he was knocked to the ground again by William Clark’s punch... The nosebleed that had just stopped started gushing uncontrollably once more. This time, it probably wouldn’t be so easy to stop; his nasal bone was likely fractured, because just now, everyone seemed to hear the sound of something breaking.

He rolled on the ground, wailing, spraying nosebleed everywhere.

A round of cheers erupted from the boys around, but those cheering boys were quickly silenced by their parents covering their mouths—the parents could tell that there was no way that Chinese man would be allowed to stay at Chamartín, but their own children still had to play football here, and offending a board member was not a wise move. The kids might not realize this, but as parents, they couldn’t afford to be careless.

Garcia’s cold face showed a look of surprise.

“I’ll lick your mother’s c*nt! You fat pig!” William Clark withdrew his fist, glaring viciously at the wailing Miguel Hernandez on the ground, then turned to look at Garcia.

“Is a Real Madrid coach judged by how soft his knees are, or by his team’s results?” he asked.

Garcia put on a stern face again. “It’s not your place to criticize Real Madrid, Chinese.”

Such arrogance truly matched the temperament of a powerhouse club like Real Madrid. But this attitude made William Clark feel sick.

Of course, he could have punched this Spaniard’s long face. After all, he’d already hit a board member twice; hitting an employee once wouldn’t be a big deal.

But he wasn’t interested in doing that anymore.

He looked around.

He couldn’t miss the look of admiration in those boys’ eyes, but at the same time, he also saw the parents shielding their children.

Earlier, he’d been full of confidence about his future—being able to coach a team at a giant club like Real Madrid, even if it was just the Under-13 Junior B team, would be a brilliant highlight on his résumé. No matter where he went in the future, it would be a credential that couldn’t be ignored.

When he first crossed over, he even thought his starting point was pretty high.

But now, he’d been thrown up high, and when he fell, he realized everyone below had disappeared, so he crashed hard onto the cold, unyielding ground.

His butt was shattered, and his beautiful dream was shattered too.

※※※

In fact, after Jesus Garcia made his harsh remark, he was actually quite scared. He worried that the damned Chinese lunatic would punch him too—since he dared to hit a club board member right in front of him, wouldn’t hitting a mere employee like himself be even easier?

But in front of this Chinese coach, his pride as the deputy director of Real Madrid’s Youth Affairs Department wouldn’t allow him to show even a hint of fear.

So he could only tough it out.

The Chinese man remained silent, and he remained anxious.

He was terrified the other would suddenly throw a punch, and he’d end up like poor Miguel Hernandez, rolling on the ground wailing... Speaking of which, how many times had Miguel Hernandez rolled by now?

He actually found it strange. When this Chinese coach first applied for the Real Madrid youth team, he’d known about him, since he was the first Chinese at Chamartín. In his impression, William Clark was a gentle person, always smiling, diligent and quiet—nothing like the savage madman before him now...

What had happened to him? What could have made him so furious?

Garcia was completely baffled.

While he was distracted for a moment, William Clark had already lifted his head again.

Garcia tensed up as if facing a formidable enemy, every muscle in his body taut.

But William Clark didn’t hit him.

Instead, he spat at his feet.

“F*ck! You’ll regret this, you bastards!” William Clark gave Garcia the finger, and also flipped off the Real Madrid crest on the deputy director’s suit.

With that, he turned and strode out of the crowd.

Chapter 4: Brothers

William Clark had a dream. In the dream, he was William Clark, but not himself—he was the William Clark from before he’d possessed this body.

He wasn’t just an observer; he experienced that William Clark’s past firsthand.

He even saw William Clark’s childhood.

But unfortunately, his parents’ faces were still blank, like whiteboards—nothing on them, so he couldn’t recognize their features.

But through the dream, he could still learn a lot about this William Clark’s story.

For example, he once aspired to be a professional football player.

But because his talent was mediocre, he was ultimately eliminated at the age of twenty.

Yet, still passionate about football, William Clark was unwilling to say goodbye to the sport he’d loved for ten years.

So at that time, he made a choice that surprised everyone—he switched to coaching!

If he couldn’t be a player, he’d be a coach. Either way, he’d stay connected to football, and in a very close way!

To become a qualified coach, he first attended coaching courses in his home country. Because he’d played professional football before, he had connections in the field and was able to get introduced to such training programs.