Chapter 25: Don

【You have obtained Cristiano Ronaldo’s broccoli. For the next 12 hours, your training effect doubles.】

【De Bruyne curved through-pass, Lv2: Similar】

【Proficiency: 5/50】

At Utrecht’s training ground, the first-team players were engaged in their scrimmage.

Ten Hag had urged Tang Ye to boldly attempt long passes, and Tang Ye had indeed done so.

Unfortunately, his De Bruyne curved pass technique was still only at Lv2 Similar, far from reaching Lv3 Simulation.

Of 12 long-pass attempts, only four successfully reached the front line, and Aale received one of them.

According to the system’s calculation, as long as the pass landed near the front line, regardless of whether the forward received it, it counted toward proficiency.

But since this was training, each successful pass granted only one point of proficiency.

Tang Ye’s four successful passes, boosted by the broccoli, earned him four proficiency points.

The Lv2 progress bar surged by one-fifth!

“Hmm, I’m getting the feel for it!”

Tang Ye shook his shoulders.

Let’s be honest—Cristiano Ronaldo’s broccoli really works!

“Beep!”

Fan Dejiahe blew the whistle to stop the scrimmage, and Ten Hag walked over to systematically relay the issues he’d observed to the Utrecht players on the pitch.

“Great pass!”

Aale and Tang Ye slapped hands in celebration.

Four out of twelve passes found suitable positions.

It may seem like only a one-third success rate, but you must remember: Tang Ye was passing from the backline.

He was at least 30 meters, even 40 meters, away from Aale and Barazite!

Aale placed his hand on Tang Ye’s shoulder: “I told you—if you’re willing to train hard, you’ll become incredibly strong!”

“Quiet down!”

Ten Hag ordered the players to fall silent, then announced that afternoon’s training was over.

“Over already? Why?”

Someone panicked, but Ten Hag never expected the one panicking was Tang Ye: “Come on, lazy pig, why the rush? Isn’t resting your favorite thing?”

“Of course I’m in a rush—I’ve always been the most serious trainer! I don’t like resting!”

“Wow~~~”

The moment Tang Ye finished speaking, a chorus of teasing erupted from the crowd; Amrabat kept winking at him.

“Oh~~ I’ve always been the most serious trainer, wow~”

Tang Ye turned his head and ignored Amrabat.

That guy was his hater.

His biggest hater!

Today he spent a full 10 comeback points to buy the broccoli.

And now training ended an hour early.

This was a total rip-off!

His gaze turned to Ten Hag, who was watching him with amused interest: “We have a Dutch Cup match tomorrow. The schedule is tight—you need rest.”

As Ten Hag said, it was true.

The Dutch Cup season was about to begin.

With a packed schedule, coaches must reduce training volume to ensure players perform well in matches.

Ten Hag wanted these Utrecht players to train longer.

But conditions didn’t allow it!

Ten Hag gave a brief summary of today’s training, then ordered the players to the physio room for muscle massage.

After giving these instructions, Ten Hag and Fan Dejiahe went upstairs to the base’s second floor.

That was where Utrecht’s coaching office was located; they needed to finalize tomorrow’s squad list.

First, which players to take was uncontroversial: Utrecht’s first team had only 24 players; selecting 18 for the squad was easy.

Moreover, due to the severe polarization among Utrecht’s players, Ten Hag quickly finalized his starting lineup.

“Goalkeeper: Ruit”

“Defenders: Nganioni, Strieder, Timo Lechelt, Van der Maarel, Klebe”

“Forwards: Aale, Barazite”

Goalkeeper, defenders, and forwards were all clear.

As for midfield…

Ten Hag’s pencil hovered midair; he had already written down Ramselaar and Jansen’s names.

Now he needed to choose between Ayoub and Amrabat.

Both had strengths and weaknesses.

Ayoub was a veteran of the Eredivisie, experienced but with poor form over the last two seasons.

Amrabat was the opposite: as a second-team player, this was his first season in the Eredivisie.

Amrabat had delivered performances good enough to impress Ten Hag.

But due to lack of experience, sufficient trust had not yet formed between Ten Hag and Amrabat.

“Forget it—let’s try him!”

Ten Hag gritted his teeth and wrote Amrabat’s number on the paper.

“Really starting Sofyan?”

Fan Dejiahe was surprised by Ten Hag’s decision.

“Whatever—Sofyan’s form has been good. Let’s give him a shot.”

“Besides…”

Ten Hag suddenly paused mid-sentence.

“Besides what?”

“In the Dutch Cup, unless you win the trophy, it’s useless. Do you think we can win it this season?”

“No,” Fan Dejiahe shook his head firmly.

“Then there you go.”

Ten Hag spread his hands: “Our league campaign is already brutal. I’m treating the Dutch Cup as practice—let Sofyan play. His form is truly excellent.”

Ten Hag’s attitude made it clear: he had no intention of going far in this season’s Dutch Cup.

Win if you can.

What if you lose?

Then lose.

After confirming the starting lineup, as Ten Hag prepared to discuss tomorrow’s match strategy with Fan Dejiahe, someone knocked on the office door.

In walked Aale.

Utrecht’s top scorer!

“Eric, Michel!”

Aale entered and immediately spotted Ten Hag’s notebook on the desk.

For a core player like Aale, Ten Hag didn’t hide anything—he openly laid out the starting lineup.

“We made a small change: Sofyan will replace Ayoub. I know you’re close to Ayoub, but I believe Sofyan is the better choice.”

Ten Hag expected Aale to defend Ayoub.

But he didn’t.

His attention remained fixed on the starting lineup—he was looking for someone.

But he didn’t find the person he was looking for.

Aale looked up and asked a question Ten Hag never imagined he’d ask: “Eric, have you considered starting Tang?”

“No, Sebastian—that’s impossible.”

Ten Hag lightly kicked his feet; the office chair rolled backward: “He has zero experience. Have you ever seen a 16-year-old start in the Eredivisie—the top league in the Netherlands?”

“Besides, he’s a lazy pig. If you and Michel don’t push him to train, he’ll just sleep in his dorm!”

Aale said nothing. He pulled back the curtain and gestured for Ten Hag to look outside.

Huh?

Ten Hag and Fan Dejiahe exchanged glances, then walked to the window and looked down.

Tang Ye was on the pitch, wearing his training gear.

He was…

Simulating backline passing drills!

“What’s this?”

Ten Hag looked at Fan Dejiahe, pointing at Tang Ye below: “Did you point a gun at him?”

“No, how could that be!”

Fan Dejiahe stepped back; Aale spread his hands to Ten Hag: “No 16-year-old has ever started in the Eredivisie—that’s a fact.”

"But have you ever seen a 16-year-old player deliver a pass like that?"

"I'm a striker; I know who the right midfielder is, Eric, you must believe me—I can tell!"

……

(End of Chapter)