Chapter 1: Rebirth and a New Beginning

June 2002

Inside a café not far from the entrance of the German Sport University Cologne...

A handsome Latin man, dressed in a sharp Armani suit, smiled as he looked at the man in front of him. His slightly wavy short hair was neatly pressed against his head, and his broad shoulders filled out his clothes perfectly. Not far away, the female waitresses kept glancing over, wondering if this man might be a model.

At the same time, the female waitresses would also split their attention to the other man. His long black hair was smoothly parted to both sides. His face was not as chiseled as a European's, but rather softer, yet it didn't give off any sense of effeminacy.

"His ocean-blue eyes are simply mesmerizing!" The waitress whispered secretly to another server behind the bar.

"Oh? Really?"

"Of course! When he looked at me just now, I felt like his gaze sucked me right in!"

"Maybe I should go ask for his number?"

"Forget it! Men like them can't possibly lack women. If we throw ourselves at them, we probably don't stand a chance."

"I just hope for a wonderful night!"

"You..."

While the two waitresses were still debating whether to go ask for a number, the short-haired Latin man was visibly excited: "Henry Grant, that bastard, can't hold on any longer. I'm preparing to buy Fiorentina! Come on, brother, just like I said back then—let's join forces and build a dynasty!"

The black-haired man looked at the outstretched hand across from him, but his thoughts gradually drifted back to ten years ago...

Lying on a patch of lush grass, a boy chewed on a freshly plucked tender blade, gazing at the cloudless sky. His beautiful eyes flickered from time to time, and it was impossible to tell where his gaze was truly fixed.

"I've been reborn for twelve years, and I haven't accomplished anything. Who said that just being reborn guarantees greatness? I'd beat the crap out of him." He muttered bitterly, spitting out the now-bitter grass from his mouth, and casually plucked a new tender blade with his right hand.

Just as he was about to brush off the dirt, a shadow fell over his upper body, and a big face appeared in front of him.

"Hey! Leon Thompson, you're actually slacking off here. If Fletcher madam finds out you're not lying in the infirmary bed but sneaked out here, she definitely won't let you off." The owner of the big face teased, but the smile at the corner of his mouth betrayed his act.

"Alright, Anthony Carter sir! If you don't want to get scolded by Fletcher madam along with me, I believe you won't snitch!" The boy called Leon Thompson didn't care at all about the big-faced guy's words. "Also, don't you think your face is a bit too close to mine? I'm not GAY!"

Pushed away, the owner of the big face... oh, now at a distance, he seemed normal again. "I was going to tell you some great news, but it looks like you're not interested at all." Anthony Carter... such a long name probably should be shortened.

"You can call me Saul, that's my nickname!" The long-named Mr. Carter struck a pose and introduced himself.

"Who are you introducing yourself to? Are you talking to me, your companion of two years? The descendant of the Carter family, the second son who unfortunately lost the right of inheritance by being born a few years too late!" Leon Thompson stood up and brushed the grass off his pants.

Turning to face his best friend, Carter smiled: "Don't you really want to know what good news there is? Maybe I should go back to class and only tell you when you come and ask me."

Leon Thompson tilted his head, sizing up his friend, then curled his lip: "What else could it be? It's just that Yugoslavia got banned, Denmark replaced them, and now they're in the European Championship finals!" His tone was as if he was stating something the whole world already knew.