Chapter 46: First Touch Module?

【Bruno Fernandes First Touch Module (Star Level)】

【First-touch accuracy increased by 10%, creativity increased by 30%】

【Passing: 74→78】

【Portugal has only one Big B, and that’s B-Fee!】

Not bro.

Who are you?

Tang Ye froze.

I thought it was Ronaldo, but it’s some Fernandes?

The problem is Tang Ye didn’t even know who this player was.

Moreover, the reward Tang Ye received today wasn’t the previous template skill, but this so-called “Special Module.”

The module doesn’t require active activation—Tang Ye only needs to touch the ball to trigger Bruno Fernandes’ first-touch module.

In short, he gained a passive skill!

“What a shame…”

Tang Ye shook his head.

I thought I’d get Ronaldo’s template and become a top striker.

Instead, I got a midfielder template—and one I’ve never even heard of.

The good news is, the percentage boost from this touch module is insane.

10% extra accuracy!

Plus 30% extra creativity—Tang Ye himself was already imagining what kind of passes he could make!

But the problem is…

I’m a ball-dominant midfielder, so why the hell did I get a first-touch passing module?!

I should be controlling the ball at my feet!

…

The next morning, Tang Ye arrived right on time at the training ground; his teammates were all juggling balls, waiting for the coach.

Wow?

Tang Ye’s eyes lit up; he found Amrabat: “Sofyan, where’s Eric?”

“No idea. I’ve been here twenty minutes already, haven’t seen Eric. Nobody else knows either.”

Alem answered while juggling, when Tang Ye’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

It was a WhatsApp message from the first-team group chat.

【Erik: I had a car accident, I’ll be half an hour late. Warm up lightly, then practice keep-away.】

“What’s the word?”

Amrabat looked at Tang Ye, who placed his phone on the bench and ran back: “We’re on our own this morning.”

“Wow, really?”

Amrabat was delighted and started practicing fancy juggling on the spot.

…

An hour and a half later, Ten Hag and Van der Gaag arrived at the training ground entrance in the same Uber.

“Ninety minutes! A full ninety minutes late!”

After stepping out, Ten Hag glanced at his watch, clearly irritated: “We should’ve just left without waiting for the cops. Ninety minutes—this morning’s training is almost over!”

“Calm down, relax,” Van der Gaag comforted him. “The plan’s already set. We’ll just do some ball-touch drills later. Won’t waste much time.”

“Besides, they’re adults. They know how to use training time.”

“No.”

Ten Hag corrected Van der Gaag: “One of them isn’t an adult.”

“Just one. Alem and Balazic will keep Tang training.”

Van der Gaag said, then walked with Ten Hag toward the field. The latter muttered as they went: “I’ll bet five euros Tang already ran off—he’s probably playing games in his dorm.”

Entering the training ground, standing outside the fence, Van der Gaag spotted Tang Ye immediately: “Oh, Eric—you just lost five euros!”

Ten Hag’s eyes widened.

Tang Ye wasn’t just on the field—he was running on it!

“Wait, wait, that’s not right!”

Ten Hag frowned, sensing something odd.

Tang Ye and Alem sprinted forward together, then slid into a kneeling slide simultaneously.

Swish-swish-swish!

Tang Ye stood up instantly and looked behind him: “Come on, three stripes! Hahaha, Sebastian, you lost!”

All the players gathered around.

On the grass where Tang Ye had slid, there were three distinct stripes.

“Damn it, how the hell did you do that?”

Tang Ye lifted his foot: “When sliding, put your right toe right in the center—use the toe to drag the middle stripe.”

Outside the fence, Van der Gaag stared: “Is he teaching someone something?”

Ten Hag covered his face with his left hand: “Jesus, he’s teaching people how to make three stripes when sliding!”

“Beep!”

Ten Hag suddenly blew his whistle, halting the sliding drill. Tang Ye, just about to sprint, stopped helplessly as Ten Hag approached.

The players formed a circle; Ten Hag stood in the center.

“There’s a lot to cover. Everyone can sit down and listen.”

Tang Ye sat down first. Ten Hag noticed and walked over, yanking him up by the arm: “Not you.”

“W-why not me?”

Tang Ye spread his hands: “Sir, please! Everyone’s the same—I should be allowed to sit too.”

“You can sit down when you’ve fully figured out how to make three stripes with your slide.”

“Hahaha!”

Tang Ye moved to the back of the line. Ten Hag glanced at him, then returned his attention to his notebook: “Let me talk about our recent matches—the Eredivisie and the KNVB Cup. Results have been decent overall—we’ve picked up plenty of points.”

The players on the grass smiled as they listened, but Ten Hag quickly cut them off: “We may have won, but we must have a clear understanding of ourselves. Stay calm for the upcoming matches.”

“Not practice sliding on the pitch and making three-stripe slides.”

Ten Hag pointed his notebook at Tang Ye, who was peeling the wrapper off a piece of gum at the very back of the line.

“…S-sorry, my bad.”

“Forget it. Let’s continue.”

Ten Hag turned his focus away from Tang Ye: “My point is, our overall form this season has been poor. If you start celebrating and cheering just because of a few recent wins, you’re going to suffer badly in the next matches!”

“Does anyone remember our league goal this season?”

Ten Hag asked suddenly.

Van der Maarel raised his hand: “Avoid relegation!”

“Exactly—avoid relegation. Relegation-threatened teams should feel tension, pressure—not like this. Don’t celebrate too early.”

Ten Hag explained.

“But don’t worry—despite the tough situation, I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

“Remember this: effort always outweighs talent. If you have even a little talent, and combine it with effort, you’ll progress extremely fast.”

Ten Hag called Tang Ye forward: “Ignoring those black sliding marks on the grass, Tang is a perfect example—his hard work in training earned him those two goals. Don’t you agree?”

Alem, Balazic, and Ramselaar exchanged glances but said nothing.

Seeing Ten Hag’s awkward silence, Ramselaar spoke up.

“Absolutely right!”

…

(End of Chapter)