Right after the match, Ho-young finished the press conference and immediately headed into a reception room located underground.
"Come in."
Half-bald head and neatly combed white hair.
Thick eyelids and drooping eyes that gave off a stubborn impression.
Alfredo Di Stéfano, who had been sipping wine, raised his hand in greeting.
He was eighty three years old, an advanced age, yet rumors said he was dating a secretary in her forties. It showed that his spirit was still full of vigor.
He often enjoyed wine, and lately the amount had been increasing.
The reason was simple.
"I'm in a very good mood."
Stéfano lifted his wine glass with wrinkles forming around his eyes.
A calm atmosphere filled the room.
"Young, do you know what wine I'm drinking right now?"
"I'm still underage, so I don't know much about wine."
"Then take this chance to learn. Bodega Iniesta. That's the name of the winery that opened this year."
"Coincidentally, that's the same name as a player I know."
"Yes, it's the same Iniesta you thoroughly outplayed on the pitch today."
"Ah!"
Only then did he remember.
Iniesta's family operated a wine business.
Before returning in time, there had been many rumors circulating on the internet.
Some claimed that Iniesta's wine company was number one in Spain and the second most successful in Europe.
But those were exaggerated stories. In reality the company was not that large.
It had only recently begun expanding seriously and was still in the stage of growing into a global brand.
Even so, the fact that he ran a wine business as a side venture was impressive.
"Stéfano, this is surprising. I didn't expect you to enjoy Iniesta's wine."
"Hmm. I normally never touch this wine. It feels like I'm making a charity donation to Barcelona."
"Then there must be a special reason today?"
"Since Mourinho took charge, good news keeps coming."
There were rumors spreading.
Some said several players had grown resentful toward Mourinho.
Others said certain players were deliberately slacking during training because they disliked his tactics.
Ho-young recalled an article he had read online not long ago.
[Don Balón: Lionel Messi is keeping Mourinho and Ho-young in check.
Lionel Messi reportedly plans to nominate his father as the next Barcelona president in order to remove Mourinho. Messi, dissatisfied with Mourinho's defensive tactics, has revealed this hidden strategy.
If his father runs for the Barcelona presidency, tens of thousands of socios who support Messi will likely rally behind him.
Meanwhile, Messi is also said to be keeping Ho-young in check for the Ballon d'Or. Recently Busquets and Piqué allegedly obtained photos of Ho-young having sex with a mysterious woman on a public street and are spreading them online under Messi's direction. At this rate, Ho-young might be too embarrassed to attend the Ballon d'Or ceremony.]
It read like pure fiction.
Don Balón truly lived up to its reputation as a questionable media outlet.
However, after hearing Stéfano's words, part of the story seemed to be true.
"I heard there was conflict between Messi and Mourinho during the process of Mourinho asserting control over the squad. Was that true?"
"Not only Messi. Even Iniesta, who is usually calm and gentle, is said to be shaken. That tells you everything. Barcelona will have a difficult year."
"So that's why you're drinking Bodega Iniesta wine today."
"I felt a bit sorry for them. A player with that level of skill still cannot win the league. At times like this, someone should help him out. Haha."
Di Stéfano chuckled as his shoulders shook.
Like Pelé or Maradona, he was such a legendary figure that people forgot what he was really like.
In reality, he was quite mischievous.
"Suddenly I'm curious. Have you ever thought about starting a side business?"
"Well, what made you ask that?"
"Please understand. When something comes to mind, I have to ask right away before I forget."
"No, that's fine."
Hearing that made Ho-young feel a little bitter.
He knew Stéfano did not have many years left.
That was why he valued this time spent together.
"Well, launching a brand using my name is one of my dreams. Like Nike Jordan. Something like Adidas Young."
"That's typical for footballers."
"What do you mean?"
"Haha. Strangely, once footballers leave the pitch, they lose all creativity. Beckham, Figo, Zidane. They were all the same as you."
"Then do you have a better idea?"
"I suddenly thought of Woodidas."
"…Hmm. Creativity…"
An awkward silence followed.
Stéfano scratched his eyebrow, and Ho-young spoke again.
"Hoike might be better."
"Let's pretend we didn't hear that."
"Hahaha."
"Hahaha."
Stéfano put on his glasses and laughed cheerfully.
"Maybe it's because I'm getting old. I find joy in small things now. Of course, I had a great moment recently. La Décima. Seeing Real Madrid win the tenth Champions League before I die made me very happy. Whenever I visit the trophy room, I see your face reflected in the trophy. When that happens, I always pray for your well being."
"That must be why everything keeps going well for me."
"Hehe. Thank you for understanding the feelings of an old man like me. Now let's end the small talk here."
Most of their conversation had been light jokes, but it had helped pass twenty minutes.
Next came the topic of Ho-young's transfer.
"I feel sorry about how things turned out."
"It's alright."
Stéfano had nothing to do with the club's management.
He was simply expressing regret as the honorary president.
"Thank you for saying that. And thank you for today's wonderful performance. Because of you, I feel younger every day. Scolari even said his hair is growing back thanks to you."
"Haha. That's good news."
"Anyway, don't worry about anything else. You don't need to care about the opinions of the socios. I will calm them down."
It was not empty bragging.
He truly had the influence to do that.
That was why Ho-young was curious.
Why was he treating someone who had only been at Real Madrid for six years so kindly?
When he carefully asked about it, Stéfano answered immediately.
"Before you met me, you had never even seen me in person. Why did you like me?"
"Because I love football, and I knew how great the footballer Di Stéfano was."
"You understand well. That is the reason we live."
Football.
That was all.
Stéfano liked Ho-young's football. There was no intention of using him politically.
And just as Ho-young finished expressing his gratitude.
[The talent vessel is currently full. Ultimate Footwork (13 days) is pending.]
[In 13 days, you will acquire All-Rounder's Versatility (L).]
'Finally.'
An emotional moment had arrived.
He was already curious whether it would merge with the existing Versatility (SU), and what kind of result that would produce.
Just two weeks.
He would find out after that time passed.
"Then I'll be looking forward to this season as well."
"Of course. I will do my best until the new year."
Ho-young steeled his determination.
The sense of achievement soared and his passion felt ready to explode.
And that energy carried into Valdebebas.
One week later.
The morning before the La Liga opening match.
The atmosphere at Valdebebas Training Ground No.1 was excellent.
Among them, Ho-young trained with overflowing energy.
To celebrate David Mateos being promoted from Castilla, a Boxex game was underway, and Ho-young showed no mercy.
Mateos, who was the chaser, tried desperately to steal the ball, but instead of taking it he was toyed with for several minutes.
Seeing this, the surrounding teammates clicked their tongues.
"He's full of energy today."
"Anyone watching would think Young is the rookie here."
"Even so, aside from Casillas and Ramos, he's been at the club longer than most."
"He might break the kid at this rate."
"Mateos might pack his bags tomorrow morning and leave. 'I don't want to play football anymore! I want to go home!'"
"Hahahaha!"
Ramos's teasing made everyone burst into laughter.
But Mateos grew more stubborn and kept charging forward.
The training session had already turned into a duel between the two.
Finally Marcos Alonso spoke like a senior.
"Hey Mateos. Just give up. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Either the ball will burst or you will."
Marcelo nodded in agreement.
"That's right. Carlos and I tried it once for a whole day before. It was useless. That guy has no mercy. The only thing that can stop him is Pepe's fist."
"Yeah, that's enough. Stop before you tear your hamstring."
Even Casillas stepped in to stop him, but Ramos spoke again.
"You shouldn't challenge Young recklessly. When it comes to football, that guy wouldn't even recognize his own ancestors."
"He should carry a football instead of a bouquet at his wedding."
"Now I understand why Monica went back to Brazil."
"That's terrifying. He hasn't lost the ball even once."
"That evil guy. There must be a devil attached to him."
"It's like the ball is glued to his feet."
"Call Adidas. That guy must be putting glue on his boots."
"Wow. He could win a freestyle football competition."
They joked, but they were also genuinely impressed.
Ultimate Footwork.
With that talent, Ho-young had been completely toying with Mateos for five minutes.
Flamboyant yet controlled movements flowed naturally.
Higuaín even licked his lips with envy.
"If those weren't feet but fingers, he would command every woman in the world. I guarantee it."
His footwork was dazzling, almost like tap dancing.
Watching it felt hypnotic.
And Mateos felt that most strongly.
He had played as a centre-back in Castilla and had played with Ho-young three years earlier, so he knew how talented he was.
Back then, Ho-young's dribbling had already been impressive.
But the Ho-young he met again three years later was on a completely different level.
He had never seen anything like it.
It felt as if the ball was being controlled with every joint of his fingers.
"Ha… I can't do this anymore."
After about ten minutes of desperate struggle, Mateos finally gave up.
Applause erupted from all directions.
"Smart decision. Your passion was clear."
"You didn't win the ball, but that was enough to pass the initiation."
"Exactly. You endured well. If it had been Pepe, fists would already be flying."
Yet Ho-young showed no sign of fatigue and continued dribbling.
He wanted to fully adapt to Ultimate Footwork as quickly as possible.
"What passion. That's youth for you."
"Ramos, you're only twenty four. You can't say that. Look at Ronaldo over there."
"Where?"
"Siu! Siu!!"
Ronaldo was shouting while training intensely on the other side.
Seeing that, the players shook their heads again.
"There's another crazy one over there."
"He's the original though. That guy eats chicken breast even on his birthday."
"Maybe a chicken factory sponsors him."
"Anyway, those two are insane."
"Watching them makes it impossible to sit still."
"Alright! I won't lose either."
In the end, Ho-young's positive energy inspired the other players as well.
Under the blazing sun, Valdebebas grew even hotter.
Time passed.
And the 2010–2011 La Liga opening match finally arrived.
Real Madrid's first opponent was Málaga.
A team usually placed in the lower half of the table, making them a relatively easy opponent.
An away match for the opener was slightly burdensome, but Real Madrid raised their morale while preparing a slightly different tactic.
The formation remained 4-2-3-1.
However, Ho-young's position in the starting lineup was not attacking midfielder.
He was the lone striker.
Today's role was the front line forward.
A goal hunter.
(To be continued.)
◇◇◇
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on Pat if you're interested: p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves (Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)