freeallnovels Chapter 310: Youth Academy
Chapter 310: Youth Academy
[Inventory: 1x ’Golden Era’ Youth Academy Upgrade][Description: Instantly maximizes the potential of the current youth scouting network. Increases the growth rate of all U18 players by 300%. Guarantees the discovery of at least one ’Generational Wonderkid’ in the local or international scouting pool within 24 hours.]
[Do you wish to activate? Y/N]
"Yes," Michael whispered to himself.
[Ding!]
[Upgrade Activated. System integrating with Barnsley U18 Academy...]
[Scouting Network expanded to Italy, Brazil, and Japan!]
[New Talent detected!]
Michael felt a profound sense of satisfaction. He knew that buying superstars like Arda Güler was essential for immediate Champions League success, but true football empires were built on their academies. Manchester United had the Class of ’92. Barcelona had La Masia. Barnsley was going to have the ’Golden Era’.
"Boss! You’re out here early!"
Arthur Milton came jogging across the grass, carrying two steaming cups of coffee and a clipboard. He looked exhausted because he had spent the entire night arguing with ticket vendors over the new stadium expansion.
"The future doesn’t sleep, Arthur," Michael told him, taking the coffee. "And neither does our youth scouting. What are we looking at today?"
Arthur flipped through the papers on his clipboard. "It’s an international friendly, Boss. We invited the AC Milan U18 and Napoli U18 squads over for a mini-tournament. Good exposure for our boys. We are playing the Milan kids right now. They are tough... tactically very sound."
Michael nodded. He liked the Italian youth academies. They produced disciplined, hardworking players. But he wanted flair. He wanted a player who could break the rules of the game and win the crowd.
The referee blew his whistle, and the U18 match began.
Michael activated his [Manager’s Eye], a system skill that allowed him to see the hidden statistics of any player on the pitch. The numbers floated above the teenagers’ heads in neat little boxes. Most of the Barnsley kids had ratings around the 60s, which was decent for their age.
But then, Michael saw him.
Playing as the central attacking midfielder for Barnsley was a boy who looked like he belonged on a fashion runway, not a football pitch in Yorkshire. He had natural wavy long hair that flowed past his ears, catching the wind every time he moved. He was wearing the number 10 shirt, and he moved with a languid, almost lazy elegance.
Above his head, a bright golden box hovered.
[Name: Leonardo ’Leo’ Rossi]
[Age: 16]
[Origin: Napoli / Barnsley (Dual Nationality)]
[Current Ability: 71]
[Potential: 94 (S-Rank Wonderkid!)]
[Trait: The Wavy Maestro (Increases pass accuracy by 20% when under pressure)]
Michael’s eyes widened. A potential of 94. That was higher than Enzo Moretti. That was in the same league as Kaito Tanaka. The System had delivered its promise instantly.
"Who is the number 10?" Michael asked, his voice sharp.
Arthur looked at the pitch and sighed. "Ah. Leo Rossi. Our scouts poached him from the Napoli U18 setup two days ago. His mother is from Yorkshire, so he moved here. He is brilliant, Boss. Incredible feet. But..."
"But what?"
"He is incredibly lazy," Arthur stated simply. "He doesn’t track back on defense. He just walks around until he gets the ball. Coach Bastion came down here yesterday and threatened to shave his head if he didn’t run sprints."
Michael watched the game. Arthur was completely right. Milan’s U18 midfield was dominating possession, pressing aggressively. Leo Rossi was just standing in the center circle, hands on his hips, tossing his long wavy hair out of his eyes while his teammates desperately chased the ball.
"He’s got the flair of a young Pirlo..." Arthur muttered, chewing nervously on a jelly baby. "But he thinks he is already a king."
"He’s not a king yet," Michael said. "Watch this."
On the pitch, a Barnsley defender managed to intercept a pass. He looked up, panicked by the red and black Milan jerseys closing in on him. Desperate, he booted the ball up the pitch toward the center circle.
The pass was terrible. It was dropping too fast, right between two tall Italian center-backs.
But Leo Rossi didn’t panic. He moved for the first time in five minutes. He darted forward, placing himself perfectly between the two defenders. As the ball dropped out of the sky, Leo didn’t even look at it. He simply raised his right foot and cushioned the ball with the outside of his boot.
The ball stuck to his foot like it was magnetized.
"Oh, my word..." Arthur breathed out.
The two Milan defenders lunged at Leo. With a casual flick of his ankle, Leo rolled the ball backward, spinning 180 degrees and leaving both defenders crashing into each other. He was suddenly in miles of open space.
"Go!" Michael commanded from the touchline.
Leo heard him. The 16-year-old sprinted toward the penalty box. The Milan goalkeeper rushed out, trying to close the angle. Leo didn’t shoot. Instead, he slipped his foot under the ball and executed a perfect, impudent Panenka chip.
The ball floated softly over the diving goalkeeper and dropped gracefully into the back of the net.
1-0 Barnsley U18.
The small crowd of parents and academy staff erupted into cheers. Leo Rossi didn’t celebrate wildly. He just jogged back to the center circle, running a hand through his natural wavy long hair, looking bored.
[Ding!]
[System Alert: S-Rank Wonderkid has demonstrated elite technical ability. Warning: Player’s ’Mental Work Rate’ is extremely low. Intervention required to reach full potential.]
"He’s incredible," Arthur laughed, shaking his head. "If we put him in the first team, the fans would love him. He plays like it’s a video game!"
"He is arrogant," Michael replied, though a smile played on his lips. "He is relying purely on natural talent. He has never had to fight for a win. If he plays like that in the Premier League, Roy Keane will talk about him on television for an hour, and a defensive midfielder will break his legs."
The halftime whistle blew. The teenagers jogged toward the touchline for their water break.
Michael stepped forward, intercepting Leo Rossi before he could reach the bench. The young Italian-English boy looked up, surprised to see the first-team manager blocking his path.
"Mr. Sterling," Leo said, his accent a strange, charming mix of Italian smooth and Yorkshire rough. "Did you like the goal~? It was very easy..."
Michael looked down at the boy. He knew he had to be harsh. He had to set the standard right now, or this kid would waste his 94 potential.
"It was a decent finish," Michael told him coldly. "But you walked for forty-four minutes, Leo. You left your right-back exposed three times. If Kaito Tanaka was playing against you today, he would have scored a hat-trick while you were busy adjusting your hair."
Leo’s confident smile faltered. His cheeks flushed slightly red. "But... I scored the winning goal, Boss. I control the game."
"You control nothing," Michael stepped closer, his presence commanding. He didn’t need a system to intimidate a teenager; he just needed absolute authority. "At Barnsley, we are a dynasty. We work harder than Manchester City. We run faster than Arsenal. You have a gift, Leo. A massive gift. But talent without sweat is just an insult to everyone else on this pitch who is bleeding for the badge."
Leo looked down at his expensive boots, the arrogance draining from his posture. "I understand..."
"I want to see you sprint in the second half," Michael ordered him. "I want to see you tackle. I want to see you suffer for the team. If you do that, you will train with the first team on Monday. If you don’t... you can enjoy the U18 bench for the rest of the season. Am I clear?"
Leo looked up, his eyes suddenly burning with a new, intense fire. He wasn’t bored anymore. He was challenged. "Yes, Boss. I will show you. I am not just a luxury player."
"Good," Michael nodded. "Now get some water."
As Leo jogged back to his teammates, Arthur handed Michael another coffee. "You were hard on him, Boss. He’s only sixteen."
"He needs it, Arthur," Michael said, feeling deeply satisfied as he watched Leo actively encouraging his teammates on the bench. "I am not looking for gods. I am looking for humans who are willing to push themselves beyond their limits. That’s how we beat the system. That’s how we win."
[Ding!]
[Player ’Leo Rossi’ Mentality Upgrade! Work Rate increased by 15%. Potential Unlocked.]
Michael smiled at the prompt. The academy was secure. He had his future playmaker, someone who could learn from Enzo Moretti and eventually take the throne. The Golden Era upgrade had done its job perfectly.
Suddenly, Michael’s phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Kenji Sato.
"Michael!" the billionaire shouted through the speaker, the sound of jet engines roaring in the background. "I am on the runway! The purple plane is fueled! I bought extra Spanish dictionaries and three boxes of premium sushi for the flight! Are we going to Madrid or what?!"
"We are going, Kenji," Michael said, turning his back on the pitch and walking toward his parked car. "The youth team is set. The foundation is strong. Now, it’s time to build the roof."
"Excellent!" Kenji cheered. "I have prepared a PowerPoint presentation for Arda Güler! It features many explosions and graphs showing how rich we are! It is flawless!"
Michael chuckled, opening his car door. "Keep the PowerPoint to yourself, Kenji. I’ll do the talking."
"What is that?" Arthur asked, leaning into the car window.