Chapter Twelve: A Complete Transformation

If someone were to ask what sets the present Mo Mo apart from the Mo Mo of the past, I could illustrate it with a simple example.

The old Mo Mo was much like an amateur player, controlling a footballer with the help of automatic assists, allowing him to snatch goals against weaker teams. The Mo Mo of today, however, is more akin to a gamer who has studied professional tutorials and mastered countless strategies—much like those players who, despite choosing Real Madrid in a football simulation game, still find themselves outplayed by an expert controlling a second-division team.

In the real world, we call this talent: the physical kind, as embodied by Cristiano Ronaldo, and the kind rooted in skill, as seen in Lionel Messi. No one can deny that, relying on physicality alone, a Cristiano Ronaldo is worth ten Lionel Messis. But Messi’s mastery over himself is something Ronaldo cannot compare to; Messi knows exactly what he needs and excels by playing to his strengths.

Some may wonder why we separate talent into physical and skill-based categories. I would say this: someone who can thrive playing as the delicate Messi in a game will have no trouble playing as Ronaldo, but not everyone who plays Ronaldo well can manage Messi with the same finesse.

By the time the team faced Bremen at home in the third round, Mo Mo could already get out of bed and walk, and had resumed training—albeit with restrictions on intense activity. In his mind, Mo Mo had already scored nine goals; he needed only one more to complete his task and earn one hundred experience points.

Opposite him stood Obliev, slightly bent at the waist, his demeanor intensely focused. Anyone who had observed Mo Mo’s progress up close would marvel at such prodigious talent.

Dribbling forward, Mo Mo’s eyes locked onto Obliev, whose footwork was steady but no longer insurmountable. As the gap closed, Obliev suddenly lunged for a tackle. When an object you’re approaching abruptly surges toward you, it’s rare that anyone can react in time.

In “Heirs of the Green Pitch,” Hao Haidong would, whenever he encountered European stars, test himself in one-on-one situations. After passing the ball, he’d suddenly dart forward, catching his opponent off guard and typically succeeding.

The challenge Mo Mo faced now was even trickier than those European stars confronting Hao Haidong, but did he shrink away? Not in the least. With a deft touch of his right foot, the ball seemed glued to him as he spun, his back brushing against Obliev. The instant the turn was complete, he nudged the ball forward with the inside of his right foot, then used his left to control it, continuing toward the goal.

A sharp change of direction, a Marseille turn—such moves were far beyond the reach of university-level defenders. Philipp Lahm had already seen his goal breached nine times by Mo Mo. Not being a professional goalkeeper, his reactions only slightly exceeded the average. As Mo Mo closed in on the box, Lahm made the bold choice to abandon his post and charge forward.

But Mo Mo, coming to a sudden halt and turning sideways to the goal, used the inside of his right foot to curl the ball in an arc toward the net. It struck the post and bounced in—Lahm could not react in time.

Yet Mo Mo showed no pride in his success. A goalkeeper acting as outfield defender, a defender in goal—there was nothing to boast about in such circumstances.

“Congratulations on completing your training. Next, the final test: teamwork.”

Su Yichen’s expression remained unchanged as Bastian Schweinsteiger appeared in the training space. The upcoming challenge would be a two-versus-three: Obliev transformed into goalkeeper Su Yichen, Philipp Lahm resumed his defensive role, and Thomas Müller would partner him.

The objective was clear: complete ten assists, helping Schweinsteiger score ten goals, with a reward of two hundred training points.

It bears mentioning that many might feel these training points are excessive. But to max out a single attribute—for example, speed—you must also raise related attributes like agility and balance to certain levels, and so on down the line. A player’s speed alone is useless without explosiveness; a striker’s shooting means little without off-the-ball movement, composure, and creativity. Off-the-ball runs open up space and make defenders lose track of you; composure prevents wild shots and ensures well-timed strikes; creativity, simply put, leads to the most incredible goals.

To fully develop one attribute from scratch requires nearly 110,000 training points, not counting the related attributes. It’s like fitting a sports car engine in a tractor—overload it, and it falls apart.

But back to the matter at hand: scoring and dribbling are solitary skills, but a true striker must master passing and movement. After all, football is not a one-man game.

Teamwork is crucial; Barcelona are masters of this with their possession-based style, weaving passes together with individual brilliance to create unstoppable combinations.

Now, Mo Mo had to learn to assist his teammates, to link up in open play.

He and Schweinsteiger began a short spell of cooperation, and Mo Mo proved to be quite adept on the offensive end.

He would dribble to within two to four meters of a defender before passing—though ground passes would have been preferable, and his weight of pass still needed work. But his quick forward runs to receive the ball again demonstrated excellent timing and awareness.

The only issue was the task itself: assisting Schweinsteiger for ten goals.

This led to a somewhat comical predicament—every time Mo Mo received the ball, his instinct was always the same: shoot! Score!

What made it worse was that each position he found himself in was indeed perfect for a shot, and as the team’s striker, he had the freedom to pull the trigger. Asking Mo Mo to pass in such moments was nearly impossible… the temptation to shoot was overwhelming!

Recall what frustrated Zlatan Ibrahimović most about his time at Barcelona: he, a proud center-forward with an impressive scoring rate, was expected to sacrifice himself to serve as a foil for Lionel Messi, to create chances for Messi instead of for himself.

Perhaps Mo Mo’s personality wasn’t as extreme as Ibrahimović’s, and this was, after all, a virtual training exercise. Still, given a chance to score, Mo Mo preferred to take matters into his own hands.

In the third round of the Bundesliga, 1860 Munich hosted Bremen and led 1-0 at halftime, finishing with a resounding 3-0 victory. The coach, Pacult, found himself deep in thought.

Number 11, Laut, and number 21, Markus Schroth—Schroth had joined in 1998 but had never shone, now at twenty-seven, yet had excelled in the last two matches. Laut, who joined in the 2001-02 season, had only played once last season, scoring a single goal, but had also impressed in these recent games. The new strike partnership gave Pacult hope for new possibilities.

A side note, and no exaggeration: in the original timeline, after veterans like Martin Max and Thomas Häßler aged, Laut and Markus Schroth carried the team, combining for twenty-seven goals that season. It was a fleeting brilliance, each netting a dozen or so, but they were hailed as the Bundesliga’s new dream duo.

From this, can you appreciate how remarkable Yang Chen’s debut Bundesliga season was, scoring eight goals and becoming Eintracht Frankfurt’s top scorer?