Chapter 121: In a Summer Window of an Arms Race, Madrid's Selling Strategy Feels Out of Place
Real Madrid hosted a grand celebration.
With the Copa del Rey secured, the team paraded all three major trophies through the streets of Madrid in spectacular fashion—the treble had been completed, and the summer belonged to them.
They didn't even bring the Spanish Super Cup won at the start of the season—after all, that was before the campaign officially began.
But rest assured: come the second half of this year, Real Madrid were coming for all of them—the European Super Cup, the Spanish Super Cup, and the Club World Cup.
Madridistas were very clear about this: any joy Barcelona fans once had, Madrid fans would experience tenfold.
The treble was only the beginning. A victorious close to the season, yes—but not the end of the calendar year.
A sextuple? Real Madrid would have it.
Anything less? Unacceptable.
During the celebrations, Mourinho himself drove the team bus—causing quite a stir in the press.
Of course, the real stars were the first-team players perched atop the bus, dressed in their commemorative "Decima" shirts.
Clad in sunglasses and puffing cigars, the players' swaggering images made the front page of every sports paper across Europe.
Any criticism was quickly drowned out by the sheer euphoria of it all.
Florentino Pérez took his moment as well.
Seated in Real Madrid's Hall of Honors during an interview, he basked in the spotlight.
Fans across social media joked that they couldn't care less about the business plans he discussed.
All they saw was the ten Champions League trophies and thirty-two La Liga titles behind him.
"This," they said, "is what it means to be the number one football club in the world."
It's not about wealth anymore—Real Madrid's honor roll is in a league of its own.
Even Kroos would later say, after joining the club, that "Madrid are a tier above."
To be fair, in terms of pure squad quality, Bayern were on par with Madrid in those years.
Their matches were always close and could go either way.
But in terms of history and pedigree, Madrid stood alone.
At the summit.
One tier below them sat all other "elite clubs."
At this historic peak—treble winners, glory restored—Madrid fans had every reason to puff their chests and look down on their rivals.
Of course, every offseason has its share of fan arguments.
When your club is dominating the world, humility becomes hard to maintain.
Not just Madrid fans—this phenomenon exists in every fanbase.
But for the players, things were much simpler.
They didn't have time to care about debates or forum wars.
Vacation came first.
Leon was no exception.
After the parade, he took his parents and uncle's family to Valencia.
They indulged in local cuisine, enjoyed sun-soaked drives along the coast, and made the most of their week together.
Occasionally, fans recognized Leon.
But he never went out alone, and his security team and assistants made sure things stayed calm.
A week might not be long, but for Leon's parents, two weeks in Spain was plenty.
They were simply more comfortable back home in China.
Leon didn't force them to stay.
He arranged for an assistant to escort them to the airport and booked their return flights.
After seeing off his family, Leon returned to Madrid, fully rested—and ready to focus on training again.
This was a harvest season, no doubt.
Three trophies.
Leon played nearly every match of the season.
And on the night of the Copa del Rey final, once the system's season settlement kicked in, he couldn't help but get excited by the massive surge in points.
Even though he'd done the math beforehand, seeing it with his own eyes hit differently.
2,852 points.
A massive haul.
Winning the three major competitions alone netted him 1,700 points.
The rest came from wins, goals, assists—over 1,100 points.
Of course, Leon hadn't racked up goals or assists like a forward would.
But clearly, the system rewarded team success.
Helping the squad win trophies was far more valuable than individual stats.
With this point total, Leon could afford two diamond-level talent shard pulls, and one gold-level.
That had always been his plan.
But now, after some reflection, he decided he didn't need to prioritize diamond shards every time.
They cost too much.
And more importantly, his growth had slowed.
After breaking through the 90-rating threshold in key attributes, every upgrade required significantly more effort.
Diamond shards were great—but if he couldn't level them up quickly, they'd just sit there unused.
Wasted potential. Wasted points.
So Leon chose a more efficient path:
One diamond-level talent shard, locked to long-range shooting.Two gold-level shards, locked to heading and shot power.
He would spend extra points to lock the ability type each time.
The diamond shards would always be saved for core stats that he knew he'd grind to the limit.
Gold-level shards? Those were for covering weaknesses and broadening his skillset.
Once he unlocked these three, he'd still have over 400 points left.
Not enough for another gold shard—unless he used his reward packs.
That's right.
He had two special first-time championship reward packs: one for La Liga, one for the Champions League.
No Copa del Rey reward pack—just like his Italian Cup win the season before.
Apparently, only league titles and major continental trophies counted for reward packs.
Leon didn't dwell on it.
The rewards from these two were already bulging with content.
He grinned—and opened both together.
A flash of golden light!
Two gold-level talent shardsTwo gold-level item cardsOne silver-level item card
"System bro, you spoil me."
With five talent shards in total now, Leon made his decision.
"Lock all ability types by category."
"Confirmed. Please select your attribute targets."
Diamond shard → Long-Range ShootingGold shard 1 → HeadingGold shard 2 → Shot PowerGold shard 3 → AccelerationGold shard 4 → Dribbling
All locked. All precise.
Let the grind begin.
"Confirmed. The ability-locking fee totals 1000 points. Proceed?"
"Proceed."
Leon responded in his mind, and the five talent shard cards in front of him instantly lit up with glowing energy.
His point balance? Nearly emptied again.
When the light faded, five player silhouettes emerged—each in a different pose, from a different era, and a different age.
Leon blinked—it was almost too much to take in at once.
"Steven Gerrard, 2004–05 Long-Range Shot Shard, Talent Rating: 97 (out of 100, host current: 74).
Bonus Insight: Proper power mechanics and aiming technique for long shots."
"Tim Cahill, 2004–05 Heading Shard, Talent Rating: 92 (host current: 83).
Bonus Insight: Best timing for late-arriving headers."
"Sulley Muntari, 2008–09 Shot Power Shard, Talent Rating: 93 (host current: 82).
Bonus Insight: Explosive leg training and full-body recovery optimization."
"Kaká, 2007–08 Acceleration Shard, Talent Rating: 93 (host current: 80).
Bonus Insight: Maximizing stride frequency."
"Xavi Hernández, 2000–01 Dribbling Shard, Talent Rating: 93 (host current: 72).
Bonus Insight: Enhancing feel and intimacy with the ball."
Leon couldn't hold it in.
He grinned.
Then he started laughing—louder and louder, more and more wildly.
If he trained any one of these abilities exclusively for a season, he might push it to elite levels.
But trying to raise all five to 85–90 in one or two seasons?
Impossible.
Still, that wasn't the point.
With his upper limits unlocked, Leon now saw nothing but infinite potential in his stat line.
The fact that he only laughed a bit and didn't dance around his apartment was already a testament to his self-control.
With the cards selected and locked, all that was left was the next step.
Training.
Right now.
Immediately.
He needed a pitch, and he needed to start summer training mode.
No time to waste.
Leon picked up his phone and called Mendes.
The agent, currently vacationing, nearly dropped his wine glass.
"The season just ended. You're sure you want to start training tomorrow?
Shouldn't you at least talk to José first?"
As an insider, Mendes knew better than most how important recovery was for a professional player.
Last summer, Leon trained like a man possessed—but only after resting two full weeks.
This year, it had barely been a little over one.
Mendes almost tried to talk him out of it.
"It's not like last year," Leon assured him.
"No crazy endurance runs. Just basic, well-rounded routines.
Low intensity, long duration. That's why I need to push back all commercial events by a month."
Leon knew what Mendes was worried about.
So he made things clear: this wasn't some death camp.
It was about details, not grind.
And shifting the business appearances was no problem for Mendes.
With Leon's reassurance, the super-agent didn't delay.
He quickly cleared things with Mourinho, then arranged for a Madrid-based training venue and a professional coaching team.
Leon could afford it now.
With endorsements pouring in, hiring a personalized, elite training group was financially painless.
Mourinho had only one condition:
Leon had to get checked weekly at Valdebebas by the club medical team.
Leon agreed without hesitation.
So, while other players were soaking up the sun on the Mediterranean or East Coast USA, Leon dove headfirst into his tailored summer grind.
This year, the intensity wasn't as brutal.
Mendes had insisted the coaches hold back.
Even if Leon wanted to ramp things up, they simply wouldn't allow it.
The emphasis was on detail and correction.
Take dribbling and long shots, for example—Leon did hundreds of basic reps every day.
Make a mistake?
Review the footage, analyze the flaw, and try again.
Over and over.
Was it tiring?
Not really.
Compared to last summer's hell with Pintus? This was nothing.
Even compared to Madrid's tactical sessions during the season, this felt light.
What it was, though, was boring.
The coaches were bored out of their minds.
But Leon?
He loved it.
Because while they only saw tiny, gradual improvements, Leon could see his actual stats slowly ticking upward.
The only part that hurt was the acceleration and leg explosiveness training.
To raise stats like that, now that his caps were unlocked, he had to sprint at his limit—again and again.
It was painful.
But still nothing like last summer, when Pintus had him puking on the grass.
After a few days, fans in the area spotted Leon at a team dinner.
Soon after, news of Leon's early June training schedule blew up across Spain—and then Europe.
Last summer's grind had flown under the radar.
But now? With Leon's fame skyrocketing and reporters eager to hype, his training center was soon swarmed by curious fans and media.
In the end, Leon had to apply to train at Real Madrid's Valdebebas base.
He even offered to pay rental and equipment fees out of pocket.
Of course, Florentino Pérez wasn't going to be that stingy.
"Train however you want," he said.
"As long as the medical team clears you each week, the facility is yours."
So Leon moved his whole team into Valdebebas overnight.
Perfect timing.
Because on June 8th, the 2012 European Championship kicked off in Warsaw.
Fans who'd been obsessing over Leon's summer workouts now had something else to distract them.
Leon was finally able to train in peace.
But of course, he didn't miss a minute of the Euros.
In his memory, this edition was a classic.
Cristiano's magic.
Shevchenko's swan song.
Balotelli's chaos.
Germany vs. Italy's tactical war.
And Spain's continued domination.
Everything unfolded just as Leon remembered.
Greece fell to Germany in the quarters.
Cristiano led Portugal past the Czechs.
Italy battled England for 120 minutes before Pirlo's Panenka stole the show—and Buffon sealed it in the shootout.
Spain calmly dispatched France.
Then, on June 27th, in the semifinals—Spain defeated Portugal in extra time.
And once again, Torres—super sub, late hero—scored the decisive goal in the Iberian duel.
The celebrations in Madrid were nothing short of spectacular.
With the Copa del Rey in the bag, Real Madrid capped off their season by hoisting all three major trophies—La Liga, the Champions League, and now the domestic cup.
The treble was complete, and the summer belonged to Los Blancos.
They didn't bother bringing along the Supercopa won before the season began—after all, it was a pre-season title.
But the second leg of the Supercopa later in the year? The UEFA Super Cup? The Club World Cup?
They wanted it all.
Barça fans had their glory days.
Now it was Madrid's turn.
The treble was just the beginning.
Six trophies in a calendar year?
Real Madrid were coming.
Even José Mourinho got in on the act, taking the wheel of the team bus during the title parade—earning himself a few headlines.
But the real stars were the first-team players standing atop the double-decker, rocking "La Décima" T-shirts, sunglasses, and cigars in mouth.
Their swagger became the front-page photo of every sports paper in Europe.
Any minor criticisms were immediately buried beneath a tidal wave of praise.
In one high-profile interview, club president Florentino Pérez took center stage.
Sitting in the Real Madrid Hall of Trophies, he basked in the limelight.
Fans joked online:
"No one's even listening to what he's saying about business deals.
All we see is the wall of trophies behind him."
Ten Champions League trophies.
Thirty-two La Liga titles.
This wasn't about wealth anymore.
This was about legacy.
Kroos would later say that Real Madrid were "a class above."
In terms of pure squad strength, maybe Bayern were on par.
But in pedigree, in honor?
Madrid stood alone.
And after completing the treble, Madridistas had every reason to look down on the rest of Europe.
Of course, with the offseason underway, fanbase wars were inevitable.
When your club rules the world, humility is hard to maintain.
It wasn't just Madrid fans.
Any club would react the same.
But for the players?
They didn't care.
They weren't browsing forums.
They had one priority:
Vacation.
That included Leon.
After the final celebrations, he took his parents and uncle's family on a trip to Valencia.
Good food, warm beaches, and a short coastal road trip to top it off.
A few fans spotted him during the trip.
But he always traveled with security and assistants, so nothing got out of hand.
After a week, Leon's parents—who had already spent over two weeks in Spain—wanted to go home.
Leon didn't argue.
He arranged for his assistant to fly with them back to China.
Once his uncle's family left too, Leon returned to Madrid.
Rested.
Recharged.
And ready to train again.
This had been a harvest season.
Three titles.
Nearly every game played.
And now—the season tally was in.
The system tabulated his performance.
Even though Leon had mentally prepared for it, seeing the number still took his breath away.
2,852 points.
A massive windfall.
1,700 points came just from the three titles.
The rest came from wins, goals, assists—well over 1,100 points.
Leon didn't score often.
But the system clearly rewarded team achievements over personal glory.
With this haul, he could buy:
Two diamond-grade talent shardsOne gold-grade talent shard
That had been his original plan.
But now, after further thought, he decided not to always prioritize diamonds.
They cost too much.
And since breaking the 90-cap threshold, his stat growth had slowed dramatically.
Diamond shards were great, but if he couldn't grind them up quickly, they'd just sit there unused.
So he adjusted his approach.
He would:
Buy one diamond shard, locking long-range shootingBuy two gold shards, locking heading and shot power
He still had over 400 points left—not quite enough for another gold shard.
But wait.
He still had two first-time title reward packs: La Liga and Champions League.
The Copa del Rey? No pack. Just points—like last year's Coppa Italia.
Apparently, only major league and continental titles earned reward packs.
Leon didn't care.
The reward packs looked stuffed.
He opened both together.
A flash of golden light.
Boom—
Two gold talent shardsTwo gold item cardsOne silver item card
Leon grinned.
"System bro, you're the best."
With five total shards now, he reallocated the leftover 400 points to lock ability types.
The final setup:
Diamond Shard → Long-Range ShootingGold 1 → HeadingGold 2 → Shot PowerGold 3 → AccelerationGold 4 → Dribbling
Perfect.
With his stat caps raised, it was time to start summer training.
Not full-blown bootcamp like last year.
Just technique sharpening and precision tuning.
He called Mendes.
The super agent nearly choked on his espresso.
"You're training? Already?
Season just ended, shouldn't you rest another week or two?"
Last summer, Leon had rested at least two weeks before beginning his program.
This year?
Barely over a week.
Leon reassured him:
"It's not intense. Just basic drills.
I want to stretch it out over a month.
Can you delay the commercial stuff until then?"
Mendes agreed.
He contacted Mourinho.
Secured a local Madrid training facility and a custom coaching team.
Leon could easily afford it now—with endorsements flowing in.
Mourinho had one rule:
"Weekly medical checkups at Valdebebas."
Leon signed off.
So while his teammates sipped cocktails on beaches, Leon dove into painstaking, detail-focused training.
No cardio torture.
Just endless drills.
DribblingLong shotsPassing techniqueAcceleration bursts
Each day, slow gains.
The coaches? Bored out of their minds.
Leon? Obsessed.
He could see his stats improving.
Especially after unlocking his talent caps, he had to push every sprint to the max to make gains.
It hurt.
But it worked.
A few days in, fans spotted Leon eating with his coaches.
Photos leaked.
Within 48 hours, his summer training was Europe's hottest headline.
Last year's grind was low-key.
This year? Everyone noticed.
Too much media attention forced Leon to request permission from Madrid to relocate his team to Valdebebas.
Florentino waived all fees and told him:
"As long as the doctors approve, train as you like."
So he moved in—overnight.
Perfect timing.
The 2012 Euros had just kicked off in Warsaw.
Fans who had been stalking Leon's every movement now had something else to watch.
Leon?
Still training.
But he followed the tournament closely.
Cristiano's heroics.
Shevchenko's swan song.
Balotelli's chaos.
Spain's dominance.
Just as he remembered.
And when Spain beat Portugal in extra time?
It was Torres, of all people, who scored the winner.
Leon smiled.
"The timeline… is still mostly intact."
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