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"It's great to meet you, Lance. You played brilliantly in Germany, I've been watching your games."
"Thank you."
"By the way, have you studied Spanish? You're very fluent."
"Yes, I studied a little before."
"My God."
"…"
It was evident.
Using the more popular MBTI 16 personality types from later generations, Torres would likely be a typical ISFJ, a Guardian.
And Lance, who seemed very bright in the Bayer Leverkusen changing room and got along well with his teammates, only gradually opened up after becoming familiar with them.
For strangers, Lance was also an 'I' person in principle, so when the two 'I' people met for the first time, standing together felt a bit awkward, especially with Torres appearing noticeably more reserved.
The assistant coach stepped out to take a call, and the changing room fell silent.
It was Lance who broke the silence:
"By the way, I heard the coach say there are others here."
"Yes, there's still some time until the pre-season training camp, so most people haven't returned from their holidays yet. Those who stayed in Madrid often come to the club to maintain their physical condition and use the gym for a quick workout. I was planning to train today too. Antoine Griezmann, Koke, and a few others are already in the gym. How about we train and chat together? I can introduce you to them as well."
"Sounds good."
Lance was quite surprised.
In his impression, professional players on holiday would have flown off long ago.
There were no major tournaments in 2015.
They would either be on the beach admiring beauties, chartering yachts for parties, or frequenting nightclubs, completely forgetting to return.
Coming to the gym early in the morning during a holiday?
What else could it be but madness?
Lance initially thought he was the only one who was 'mad,' but he didn't expect Torres and other Atlético Madrid players to be 'mad' too.
No wonder Atlético Madrid, with a lineup that wasn't particularly star-studded, has always been able to compete with Real Madrid and Barcelona over the years.
The players' effort and discipline were several leagues ahead of other teams.
Especially a certain red team in the Manchester area of the Premier League—their discipline was the most lax!
Besides watching Lance's games, Torres didn't know Lance particularly well, but Lance knew a lot about him.
He was a senior who became famous at a young age and had dominated the football world for many years, one of Lance's idols during his student days.
Under Lance's guidance, he and Torres gradually became more familiar along the way, chatting casually…
Meanwhile, in the Atlético Madrid gym, the new generation French midfielder, Antoine Griezmann; Atlético Madrid youth academy prospect and versatile attacking midfielder, Saúl Ñíguez; Atlético Madrid youth academy ace and midfield core, Koke; and Atlético Madrid youth academy product, new attacking player on loan from Porto, Oliver Torres, were all quietly discussing the new Chinese superstar.
"If you ask me, the club just has too much money to burn."
Saúl Ñíguez grumbled whilst lifting weights.
"What does 150 million mean? We could probably sign Cristiano Ronaldo with that. With so much money, why not give us a raise instead?"
"You, trying to collude with the enemy? Cristiano Ronaldo is a Real Madrid player, what would he be doing at Atlético Madrid?"
Koke frowned, scoffing disdainfully.
As fierce city rivals, Atlético Madrid and Real Madrid have always been at odds.
Especially Cristiano Ronaldo, who was deeply etched with the Real Madrid brand, a bitter enemy for many years.
How could Atlético Madrid players possibly be convinced by Cristiano Ronaldo?
"I'm just saying, 150 million is enough to sign the best player in the world."
"Isn't Lance considered one?"
"Is he… is he?"
Saúl's tone inevitably weakened a bit.
Logically, a rookie who debuted two years ago, only 18 this year, younger than everyone present, would still be making his way through the youth academy, holding a low status in the football world.
Everyone subconsciously didn't consider him a "Messi and Ronaldo"-level superstar.
At most, he was a rising star like Lewandowski, Götze, or Mkhitaryan in the Bundesliga.
But Lance's phenomenal performance last season had stunned all professional players.
Especially in the crucial match against Barcelona, where the MSN trio couldn't outperform one Lance, he subtly gained the influence of a "third best in the world," "on par with Messi and Ronaldo."
It was just that his rise to fame was too quick, and he hadn't yet solidified his reputation.
Therefore, there was controversy not only amongst fans but also amongst players.
"I think Lance is already on the same level as Messi and Ronaldo. He is a true genius."
Koke, who was always humble and low-key, spoke highly of Lance.
"Koke, why boost someone else's morale and diminish our own? I think old Fernando is better than him. Coming in and wearing number 10? Why?"
Oliver Torres, standing nearby, looked indignant and unconvinced.
He was originally supposed to be number 10.
The club had promised him the symbolic core number to reward his excellent performance.
But Lance signed at lightning speed and was officially announced with great fanfare, and the number 10 was snatched by Lance.
Oliver Torres could only get a marginal number 28.
He was not very convinced.
Whilst the Spanish players were discussing, the Frenchman Antoine Griezmann diligently lifted weights, remaining silent.
Suddenly, he quickly looked towards the gym entrance, and his gaze also drew the attention of the others.
Oliver Torres's expression immediately became awkward.
The two people he had just been discussing, Fernando Torres and Lance, appeared at the door.
From their expressions, it was clear they had heard his words.
"Oliver, you said I was old, didn't you?"
Fernando Torres looked at his younger teammate with a half-smile.
Both were named Torres, but in terms of both team status and football status, Fernando Torres was the elder brother, so Oliver quickly caved in.
"I was wrong, Fernando, you're in your prime, not old at all, you can still play for another 10 years."
"Get lost, you scoundrel."
Torres chuckled and cursed good-naturedly, then turned to Lance.
"Lance, I'm sorry, this guy just has a loose tongue, but he's not a bad person. I hope he didn't offend you."
"I don't mind."
Lance simply shook his head faintly and looked at Oliver Torres.
"Oliver, right? You seem to be unconvinced by me?"
"The whole world knows you, King Lance, the Magician. How dare I be unconvinced?"
Oliver pouted.
"How about this, we play a 1v1?"
"Lance?"
Torres looked at Lance in surprise, worried that his new teammate would get into a conflict on his first day, and the coach would blame him later.
"Don't worry, it's just a friendly match. What do you say, Oliver?"
"Afraid of you? Bring it on!"
Oliver was also a hothead.
Without even changing his jersey, he wore his gym clothes and took the lead, heading towards the nearby training pitch.
???
What's going on?
The others were stunned.
Koke still wanted Torres to help persuade them, asking why they needed to do this. They were all teammates.
Saúl and Griezmann, however, remained silent.
They also wanted to see Lance's skill for themselves.
In this world, too many players are hyped up by the media; they perform well in one or two games and are immediately hailed as football gods, only to be exposed and see their value plummet when they switch teams.
Whether he was strong or weak, only live performance would tell.
As the group followed, Lance had already casually picked up a football from a nearby bin and, with Oliver, went to the 5-a-side training pitch.
The 1v1 unofficial rules were no goalkeeper, pure dribbling past the opponent to score into a small goal, first to score 5 goals wins.
"Can Oliver do it?"
"He's at least an excellent youth academy player, he should be able to score one or two goals, right?"
Torres, Griezmann, Saúl, Koke, they all agreed that Lance's strength was definitely superior, but Oliver had solid fundamentals, a certain talent, and defensive ability.
In a 1v1, he theoretically wouldn't lose by too much.
However, three minutes later, Oliver stood in the middle of the pitch with a bewildered expression, and Lance had already walked to the sidelines, holding the football.
When he handed the ball to Torres, Torres didn't even see any signs of him sweating!
5-0, effortlessly!
It was a complete crush!
Five attacks, five different dribbling moves to toy with him!
Oliver didn't even touch the ball once!
Conversely, when Oliver attacked, Lance's first interception was always a precise tackle, giving him no chance at all!
This felt like a professional player bullying a primary school student in a 1v1; they were simply not on the same level!
Torres and Griezmann, two world-class forwards, exchanged glances, seeing the shock in each other's eyes.
Before this, the 150 million transfer fee seemed like a severe overvaluation to them, purely an investment to capture the Chinese market.
Now, it seemed every penny of the 150 million euros was worth the price!
Lance's number 10 back, on a bright summer day, sent a chilling sensation through the Atlético Madrid players present, yet at the same time, a surge of passionate hope welled up in their hearts, a mix of ice and fire.