“The data from the Milan Lab tells us that there’s something wrong with your body… it’s not a big problem, it won’t affect your health, as long as you don’t keep playing football—playing is fine, just not professional football—I hope you can understand the club’s decision. After all, every young talent is a valuable asset to us. If we truly had any other choice, we wouldn’t make this decision… There’s still half a year left on your contract. During this time, the club will enroll you in a coaching course. Not being able to continue as a professional footballer doesn’t mean leaving football entirely. Personally, I still hope you can keep chasing your football dreams in another career…”

As he spoke, he saw Brian Clark shake his head.

“No need, let’s terminate the contract. End it early,” Brian Clark said in a hoarse voice.

Gary hadn’t expected Brian Clark to ask for early termination: “Actually, you don’t have to…”

Brian Clark pointed at Tony Atkins: “Didn’t he just say it? If I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, or rely on crutches forever, I’d better end my professional football career. I really don’t want to sit in a wheelchair for life, nor do I want to walk with crutches. Since there’s only half a year left on the contract, what’s the point of staying? To increase my chances of becoming disabled?”

Gary was left speechless. He turned his gaze to Tony Atkins, who just shrugged and spread his hands.

So he sighed and nodded, “Alright, after negotiation, both parties agree to end the contract six months early…”

……

Standing in front of Daniel Young, Brian Clark said dejectedly, “But the Milan Lab said…”

“Bullshit Milan Lab!” Daniel Young suddenly cursed.

Brian Clark couldn’t understand Coach Young’s attitude: “Old man, but they’re the authority…”

“Bullshit authority!” Coach Young interrupted Brian Clark again with a shout. “Just because they’re the authority, they must be right? Authorities never make mistakes? What if the authority is wrong this time? You’ve been with me for a year—has your left foot injury ever recurred? You’ve played so many unofficial matches outside, have you ever felt any discomfort in your left foot? Don’t you have any sense of your own condition?”

Faced with Coach Young’s barrage of scolding, Brian Clark remained silent.

David Young looked at him and snorted heavily, “You’re so wishy-washy about playing football, is this all you’ve got?”

After scolding, he got up from the ground and patted the dust off his pants.

“Pick up the broom yourself.”

The old man turned and walked away.

Brian Clark stood where he was, not picking up the broom, but staring blankly at Coach Young’s somewhat unsteady steps.

Suddenly, he remembered something: the Milan Lab’s verdict wasn’t the first time he’d been given a “death sentence” in his football career.

When he was ten, he had a sudden growth spurt, but his muscles and nerves hadn’t caught up, making his body uncoordinated. He was taller than his peers, but his movements were slow and clumsy. His teammates gave him the nickname “Big Dummy” to mock him. Upset, he got into a fight with the ringleader.

When his parents brought him to apologize to the boy he’d beaten up, the coach told his parents, “Take him home, don’t waste your money, he’s not cut out for football…”

In Brian Clark’s young mind, the coach was the authority. And when the authority said that, his world collapsed.

The one who helped him hold up the sky again was the old man, Coach Young.

He was the one who came to persuade Brian Clark’s parents to let him keep playing football, patting his chest and assuring them that this child was a genius with talent far beyond the ordinary.

Coach Young wasn’t a professional coach, nor was he famous in Chinese football. He was just a coach at an ordinary football school.

The reason he knew about Brian Clark was because two years earlier, Brian Clark’s football school had played a match against his own school. In that match, he witnessed the young Brian Clark’s talent firsthand. So when he heard that Brian Clark had been advised to leave his previous school, he came looking for him and took the despairing Brian Clark under his wing.

Brian Clark remembered that the first thing Coach Young asked him back then was almost exactly the same as today: “Do you still want to play football?”

How did he answer at the time?

Firmly, without hesitation, chest out, almost shouting: “I want to play football!”

So why is it that today, he just can’t say those words?

Was it because he was young and ignorant back then, and hadn’t yet seen the cruelty and coldness of the world?

“Bullshit cruelty! Bullshit coldness! You little brat, not even twenty, what the hell are you pretending to be so deep for! What have you seen of the world to act all high and mighty?!”

Suddenly, the old man’s angry roar exploded in his ears, startling Brian Clark—had the old man come back?

Brian Clark snapped back to reality and found himself still on the pitch. Night had already fallen, and it was pitch black all around. There was no old man returning.

There really was a sound in his ear, but it wasn’t the old man’s roar—it was the ringtone from his phone in his pants pocket.

It was Director Harris calling.

As soon as he answered, he heard Director Harris’s excited voice:

“Zheng ge, Zheng ge! There’s a big deal coming our way!”