Chapter 1: My Uncle, the Head Coach

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Chapter 1: My Uncle, the Head Coach

June 29, 2012.

Italy.

The city of Milan.

Medical Department, Vismara Sports Center.

“Doctor, how is my son’s condition?”

A middle-aged man of Eastern descent asked with a worried expression.

Casapa Marino, the chief medical officer of Vismara Sports Center in a white coat, frowned deeply. That look alone made the two middle-aged men present, as well as the young Eastern-faced boy, tense up.

“Dr. Casapa, I won’t keep growing taller, will I?” Li Mo’s voice trembled a little.

To be honest—

Born on May 30, 1995, Li Mo was now seventeen, already standing at 191 centimeters tall.

At his age, that height was certainly impressive.

But it wasn’t unheard of. After all, Mr. Zhao Riyue was nearly two meters tall at just fourteen.

Seventeen and 191 centimeters tall wasn’t enough to worry most parents.

But what if, just six months ago, he had been only 171 centimeters?

A twenty-centimeter growth spurt in half a year.

Any halfway attentive parent would be worried.

So now, Li Shengli, whose family hailed from Jiayingzhou, Guangdong Province in the Long Kingdom, was most anxious that Li Mo would keep growing—if diagnosed with gigantism, not only would Li Mo’s football career be over, but he might not even live past thirty.

You see—

Six months ago,

Li Mo was still the star of AC Milan’s youth academy at Vismara—quick, sharp on the break.

Most importantly, the head coach of the AC Milan youth team, Filippo Inzaghi—yes, the very dashing Italian man with a worried face standing beside Li Shengli—was Li Mo’s uncle.

His actual uncle!

With a good uncle and a well-off family, Li Mo’s life had been quite smooth these past years.

At sixteen, he was already playing for the U19 team.

He was quite the talent—though perhaps not at the level of those prodigies who started in top leagues at sixteen.

But playing U19 at sixteen was certainly gifted.

Then, six months ago, a sudden change threw his career into crisis: he started growing, rapidly!

From a modest 171 centimeters, his body shot up as if on livestock feed.

And it wouldn’t stop.

Now,

He had reached 191 centimeters!

A twenty-centimeter leap in height, just like that.

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His balance changed, his stride changed, his rhythm changed.

He lost his greatest gift in an instant: speed!

His sprinting speed dropped to the bottom of the team. The changes in his footwork and balance made him lose almost all his previous ball sense—getting it back would be a monumental challenge.

Some of the coaches at Vismara had already written him off.

With such a sudden change, it was unlikely he could stay in AC Milan’s youth system—after all, youth training is built on early skills, and given Li Mo’s situation, with his lost speed, stride, and dribbling rhythm, he would have to switch positions.

But that’s easier said than done.

Especially at seventeen—seventeen to twenty-one is when most players’ technical traits are cemented.

“No, no, that shouldn’t happen anymore. Based on your physical exam, your height will probably stay fixed around 191,” the doctor finally said.

Li Mo let out a huge sigh of relief.

“One hundred ninety-one centimeters,”

Leaving the medical department, Li Shengli muttered under his breath.

“No one in our family has ever been this tall.”

Knowing he wouldn’t keep growing, Li Mo shed a heavy burden and joked, “Dad, aren’t you going to get a paternity test or something?”

Li Shengli looked at Li Mo’s face, devoid of any mixed-race features, and, while proud of his strong Han genes, retorted, “If anyone needs a test, it’s me and Martina together—I suspect they swapped babies at the hospital!”

“So one day, the real prince will come knocking to kick out this imposter?”

Relieved, father and son laughed.

Whether or not he could play professional football was one thing—at least his life was safe.

At that moment,

A mechanical voice echoed in Li Mo’s mind.

“[Filippo Inzaghi’s Scoring Instinct Module] fusion progress: 100%!”

Li Mo’s attention snapped inward.

He couldn’t help but suspect

that this whole height issue was the fault of that damn system.

Six months ago,

he acquired a [Football Bond System].

He’d thought his golden cheat as a transmigrator had finally arrived!

But unexpectedly,

the system’s arrival marked the start of a nightmare.

He’d gained his uncle’s [Scoring Instinct Module] right away.

But its fusion was painfully slow.

Before he’d finished integrating it,

his height had started shooting up—maybe this was some kind of retroactive timeline effect from his previous life.

After all, in a parallel world, Li Mo’s height was also 191 centimeters.

“A hundred percent fusion… does that mean I’ve fully inherited my uncle’s ability?”

Li Mo opened the system to check.

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Family Bond: Filippo Inzaghi’s beloved nephew.

Bond Module Acquired: Scoring Instinct.

Fusion Progress: 100% (His uncle and his other uncle are both his uncles)

In fact,

For the past six months,

Li Mo had worked hard to integrate the module as the system instructed.

He also took Inzaghi’s advice: to adapt to his growing body and to retrain as a center forward.

The effects were steadily improving.

So Filippo Inzaghi was actually quite confident that Li Mo could pull off the transformation.

He saw a bit of himself in Li Mo.

Even though Li Mo’s face was nothing like his aunt, Martina Inzaghi—he didn’t look remotely half Italian, in fact.

It made Inzaghi sometimes suspect a hospital mix-up.

But two months ago,

when Li Mo began to retrain as a center forward,

the instincts he showed—his movement, his sense for scoring—

put Inzaghi’s mind at ease.

This was his nephew.

His own flesh and blood!

This kid

was a little Inzaghi—well, more like a tiny Inzaghi.

The title “Little Inzaghi” belonged to his brother, Simone Inzaghi, now coaching in Lazio’s youth academy.

Li Mo’s performance as a center forward made this man, who once lived on the offside line, wonder if perhaps Li Mo’s speed had previously overshadowed his genius for this position.

“So long as you stop growing, that’s all that matters.”

Inzaghi patted Li Mo’s shoulder. “Watch more of your uncle’s old games. If you can transform into a poacher, you’ll still have a place in professional football.”

“What’s more, you’re over 1.9 meters. Keep working on your physique and heading—you can move, you can duel, it’s not impossible for you to surpass me one day.”

“Never mind surpassing you, just staying alive is enough,” Li Shengli said.

He had already stopped hoping Li Mo would play professional football.

If Li Mo was dropped from Vismara,

Li Shengli planned to send him to university,

and then come back to inherit the family’s leather shoe company, which had dozens of branches and its own brand in Italy, Spain, and Germany.

If Comrade Li Mo couldn’t make it in football, he’d have to come home and inherit a multimillion-dollar business.

Heaven have mercy.

(End of chapter)