This kind of questioning made him very uncomfortable, because the other party was sizing him up as if he were a fraud, with an obvious look of suspicion in their eyes.

He was here to apply for a coaching position at Atlético Madrid’s youth academy—was it really necessary to dig up everything from seven years ago and interrogate him about it?

After the official finished laughing, he lowered his head again to look at the résumé, then said without even looking up, “Yugoslavia, Italy, France, England... and then Spain. In seven years, you’ve been to so many countries. How long did you stay in each one?”

“Not long.”

“Why?”

“There was always some reason or another that forced me to leave.” In fact, William Clark didn’t know why his brother had changed so many places in seven years... As for himself, he was fired because he punched a Real Madrid board member. He believed his brother wouldn’t do such a thing, so maybe the reason for constantly changing teams was to keep climbing higher? Or maybe to experience more football styles? But these weren’t things he wanted to explain in detail to the other party.

At this point, the official pushed aside William Clark’s résumé. “Next time, make your résumé look a bit prettier before you come, Chinese.”

William Clark pointed at himself and said, “You think I’m a fraud?”

“Aren’t you?” The official looked up, staring at William Clark down his nose. Westerners really do have big nostrils—maybe they’re made for this.

“Show me the evidence!” William Clark stretched out his hand, palm open.

“I just called our youth B team coach. When he took the team to play at the Chamartín training ground a month ago, the coach of the junior B team was definitely not a yellow-skinned, black-haired Chinese.”

“I was only promoted to head coach of the junior B team two weeks ago.”

“Ha!” The official laughed with contempt. What a blatant lie—does he think I’m a child?

Seeing this smile, William Clark became anxious and started pulling out his phone book from his pocket. “I can give you someone’s number. If you don’t believe me, just call and you’ll get the answer!”

He was going to give his colleague Gonzalez’s number. After all, they were colleagues, and he believed Gonzalez would help vouch for him in this matter.

But the Atlético Madrid HR official directly refused him.

“No need, Chinese. Even if you really are a coach, so what? Atlético Madrid doesn’t need a Chinese coach.”

William Clark stopped what he was doing and looked up at the other party. “Why?”

“With the level of Chinese football, I doubt your level is any better.”

“That’s discrimination!”

“It’s a fact, Chinese. Do ignorant, clueless Chinese even know what football is? You’d better worry about filling your stomachs first!” This HR official had deep prejudices against Chinese people—perhaps it had something to do with being robbed of his wallet a week ago while trying to visit a prostitute in Madrid’s Chinatown...

Hearing this, William Clark knew there was no way he’d ever coach at Atlético Madrid.

He hadn’t expected that both of Madrid’s top clubs would have this kind of attitude.

In the 2012 he came from, the West was already gradually getting to know China, and many Chinese football professionals had come to Europe, where football was more developed, to study and play. As far as he knew, Beijing Guoan’s coach Brian Sullivan had gone to Real Madrid for training.

Back then, he’d never heard of such discrimination.

No matter what those Westerners were thinking—maybe they really understood China, or maybe they just wanted to use this to open up the Chinese market and seek benefits for themselves—at least there was cooperation.

But in 1999, before the 21st century, these arrogant Westerners still had so many prejudices against Chinese people!

This really caught William Clark off guard.

William Clark really wanted to go up and use his fists to show that high-and-mighty HR official just how much Chinese people understood football...

But he held back.

He stood up and looked at the arrogant Atlético official behind the desk.

“You’ll regret this too, you bastard!”

With that, he turned and walked out of the office without looking back.

For a moment, the Atlético official didn’t react. There had been plenty of failed applicants, but this was the first time someone had threatened him with such bold words after being rejected.

Regret? Why would we regret it? Atlético Madrid, a proud La Liga giant—why would we ever regret turning down a Chinese? Who does he think he is? He’s got way too high an opinion of himself.

But why did he say “too”?

He thought about it, and decided to double-check whether this Chinese guy had really coached at Real Madrid.

So he made another phone call.

A few minutes later, laughter rang out from the official’s office.

“Ahahaha! That Chinese idiot!! Serves him right that nobody wants him! Hahahahaha!”

Chapter Six Old Beggar

Today was Sunday, and the Plaza de España was packed with tourists—much more crowded than usual.

From time to time, you could see tour groups from all over the world appearing in the square, all drawn here by the statue of Cervantes.