That awkward feeling lingered until his father brought him to Europe, where, for more than half a month, he spent every day and night with his father. This was the longest period he had ever spent alone with his father. During this time, his father accompanied him everywhere, carrying a large travel backpack, one hand clutching an electronic dictionary, the other holding a map, following the directions to seek out clubs. They exhausted themselves talking, pleading earnestly, hoping those lofty clubs would give his son a trial, a chance to become a professional player.

What about the language barrier? They would translate what needed to be said the next day using the electronic dictionary, memorize it, and then recite it in heavily accented, halting English. Over this half month, his father's English improved by leaps and bounds, a testament to how much effort he put in...

The scorn he endured, his father endured as well; the cold shoulders he faced, his father faced too; when he was humiliated, his father surely felt just as bad inside.

On top of that, his father had to comfort him after each failed trial and take care of his daily needs. Most of the money for coming to Europe was secretly borrowed behind his mother's back. If he failed, the burden of repaying the debt would fall on his father—that was over a hundred thousand yuan!

He respected his father more than ever before.

He would not allow anyone to speak to his father in a disrespectful tone, even if that person was older than his father!

But his father gripped his hand tightly, and he knew what that meant. In truth, his father's strength could not stop him, but his father wanted him to calm down, to stay calm, to not act impulsively.

Three months ago, it was because of his impulsiveness that he beat up a teammate who had set him up, landing the teammate in the hospital and ending his own professional career before it had even begun.

This time, at the critical moment, his father was determined not to let him make the same mistake again. If he beat up that old man, he might vent his anger, but all hope would be lost, and everything he and his father had endured over the past half month—all the scorn and ridicule—would become meaningless. So at this moment, Ethan Brooks had to endure, even if he couldn't, he still had to!

He watched as his father bowed his head, bending over and pleading with the other party, hoping they would give his son a trial, while the coach kept his chin raised, glancing sideways with a mocking, sneering smile. His fists clenched tighter and tighter, until his knuckles turned white.

"My son is a genius... really, he has talent, he can do it, just give him a chance... he's good at headers, really good at headers..."

Every plea from his father was like a heavy hammer pounding on Ethan Brooks's heart.

If only he hadn't been impulsive back then, if he had endured, maybe his father wouldn't have to humble himself like this today—but Ethan Brooks later realized, that was impossible. Because if you stayed in China, there would be even more times you'd have to humble yourself: after signing a professional contract, you'd have to grovel and pay money just to get playing time; once you got to play, you'd have to grovel and pay money to become a starter; even as a starter, you'd have to grovel and pay money to get into the national team... There would always be times when you'd have to swallow your pride.

In the end, the coach, with a meaningful smile, suddenly agreed to his father's request.

"You said it yourself, you said your son is good at headers, so I'll give your son a chance to prove just how good his headers really are!"

※※※

And so, Ethan Brooks was now up against the entire back line of the CSKA Moscow youth team.

Someone was stationed on the wing to cross the ball to him; all he had to do was jump in front of the goal and compete with those defenders for headers.

This was by no means a fair contest.

At first, his father was quite happy, thinking his sincerity had finally moved the other side. But now, he too watched the field with a heavy, anxious expression.

Four defenders against one Ethan Brooks—how was this a trial? This was humiliation!

Such deliberate humiliation was something they had never encountered before!

Most people, faced with such obvious trouble, would have walked away long ago—if Ethan Brooks and his father really wanted to leave, the people at CSKA Moscow couldn't have stopped them.

But Ethan Brooks gritted his teeth and battled those semi-professional defenders, who had received far better training than he had, never once thinking of giving up. At the very least, not until he scored a goal—he absolutely could not give up!

Owen Brooks stood on the sidelines, biting his lip, watching his son fight on the field. He didn't know if what he was doing was right—bringing his son all the way to Europe, only to receive nothing but contempt and scorn instead of the hoped-for outcome.

Just like now, he had hoped to give his son a chance, but never expected the other side was just toying with him.

Would his son end up hating him for this?

※※※

On the sidelines, some of the CSKA Moscow coaches shook their heads.

This kid's physical condition was indeed pretty good, but his skills were mediocre. Wanting to join CSKA Moscow? That was pure daydreaming. But he might be able to play in a lower-level league.

They really couldn't understand why he was so obsessed with CSKA Moscow.