Brian Clark looked completely unconcerned as he turned his gaze toward the field. In some places, the artificial turf had already been worn bald, exposing the asphalt underneath, like patches of black holes on the pitch.

  “Old man, from what I see, your training camp doesn’t exactly look like it’s rolling in money, does it?”

  “Feeding you isn’t a problem... Cut the crap, today you have to give me a straight answer! Are you going to play or not?”

  “Aren’t I playing now? At least one match a week, sometimes up to three...” Facing Coach Young’s anger, Brian Clark still grinned cheerfully.

  “You know exactly what I mean by ‘play’.”

  Brian Clark showed a troubled expression. “Old man, I’m hungry. Can we talk about this another day?”

  “No! Today you have to make it clear to me. You’ve been here with me for almost a year, right? If you don’t want to play football, then what are you doing training with me every morning and evening?”

  “Well... I have to play matches every week to make money, so of course I need to stay in shape...”

  “You hardly drink, you don’t smoke, and you’re this damn serious about keeping in shape just to play street football? You think you can fool me into believing I don’t know the game?”

  Brian Clark had no response.

  “You don’t go home, you don’t go to school, you don’t work, you won’t even take a salary, you just live in this crappy prefab room and train twice a day... You’re living like a monk here with me, for what?” David Young demanded.

  Brian Clark couldn’t give any answer, because deep down, he didn’t have one.

  Seeing Brian Clark lower his head in silence, David Young snapped, “If you can’t make up your mind, I’ll help you!” With that, he grabbed the broom beside him. “I’ll break your legs so you’ll finally give up on football!”

  “Come on, old man, don’t mess around!” Brian Clark quickly jumped up to dodge.

  “Who’s messing around? I’m dead serious!” As he spoke, David Young raised the broom again.

  Seeing this, Brian Clark took off running.

  David Young chased after him, waving the broom. “You brat, if you’ve got guts, don’t run!”

  “I’d be an idiot not to run!” Brian Clark ran even faster.

  And so, the old man and the young man started chasing each other around the football field.

  But after all, David Young was already sixty years old—how could he possibly catch up to a vigorous young guy? After less than two laps, he was so exhausted he collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath.

  Only then did Brian Clark cautiously approach. “Old man, was that really necessary...”

  Before he could finish, David Young suddenly hurled the broom at him. Brian Clark nimbly spun aside, dodging it.

  “Wow, you’re cheating!” He pointed at Coach Young, shouting in an exaggerated, theatrical way.

  David Young just snorted. “Aren’t you pretty agile? That spin just now was quick enough—your left foot doesn’t look like it’s had surgery at all, does it?”

  Brian Clark froze.

  “Your foot’s had enough rest, hasn’t it?” Sitting on the ground, David Young jerked his chin toward Brian Clark’s left foot.

  “My foot...” Brian Clark looked down at his own left foot.

Chapter 3 Authority

  Brian Clark looked down at his left foot, and in his ears was the voice of the head of the club’s medical laboratory strength and sports rehabilitation training group, Doctor of Medicine, Danny Toniachini.

  “Your left foot. The problem is with your left foot... To be honest, I don’t think it can handle professional-level football anymore... We analyzed all your physical data after your serious injury in 2008, and there’s a very harsh truth I feel I must tell you, because it’s the responsible thing to do... I don’t think, given your current physical condition, that you can continue to play professional football. If you don’t want to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair, or relying on crutches, the best thing you can do now is to end your professional football career...”

  Hearing this, Brian Clark looked up, eyes wide, staring at the sharply dressed head of the Milan lab in front of him.

  As someone who had played for AC Milan for three years, he knew all too well the weight the Milan Lab carried at this club. Every piece of information about a player’s health that came out of here would be taken extremely seriously by the club, and even attract attention from the entire football world.

  So many players had lost their chance to join AC Milan because of a single word from the Milan Lab.

  The Milan Lab was an authority in this field...

  But now, this authority was telling him it was best not to try to keep playing professional football. But if he didn’t play professional football, what else could he do? Wasn’t this telling him to retire? He was only eighteen...

  Standing beside him, AC Milan’s youth training director, Filippo Galli, saw Brian Clark’s expression and coughed, interrupting Toniachini. He was afraid that if this went on, the kid in front of him would just break down and cry.

  “That’s how it is, Gao. We really appreciate the talent you’ve shown, but unfortunately, you suffered a serious injury at the most critical moment... I’m very sorry, it was a tragedy. The club tried to give you time and patience, to help you recover, but...” At this point, Galli hesitated, but still continued.