Vallecano's training space was older and noisier than Leganés'.
The barbed wire at the edge of the training field was rusty.
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Head Coach Paco Jémez stood on the sidelines, arms crossed, like a cold, rigid statue.
His sharp eyes swept over every player, as if he could see through their hearts.
"You're thinner than in the videos," he said, scrutinizing Lu Chuan from head to toe.
"segunda división defenders won't go easy on you just because you're young."
Lu Chuan nodded, remaining silent.
He could feel the directness and unshakeable authority in Paco's words.
Paco Jémez led him into the locker room, which was bustling with noise, a mix of sweat and grass stains.
The captain, Óscar Trejo, a bearded Argentine, enthusiastically gave Lu Chuan a hug, so forceful that Lu Chuan nearly stumbled.
"Welcome, kid! I hear you're a big scorer?"
"I'll do my best."
In the corner, a strong, fast winger glanced at Lu Chuan with an indifferent look.
He was Álvaro García, the team's main left winger.
Lu Chuan's arrival directly threatened his position.
The next day, Lu Chuan participated in his first joint training session.
The moment the whistle blew, he immediately felt a huge impact.
The pace here was more than one level faster than in Segunda División B.
Every pass was like a bullet, every tackle like hitting a wall.
Although Lu Chuan's physical fitness had been enhanced by the system, he still needed time to adapt to this intensity of confrontation.
He found that his usual rhythm was half a beat too slow here; every time he received the ball, he was quickly marked, and opponents were already in position before he could even turn.
Paco Jémez assigned Lu Chuan to the left wing position.
"No slacking off! If you can't get the ball, run back for me!
If their right-back dares to push forward, you have to chase him down!"
The coach's roar echoed across the training ground, every word loaded with gunpowder.
Lu Chuan was very unaccustomed.
At Leganés, he was the offensive core and hardly had to undertake defensive tasks.
But here, he had to sprint back and forth like a full-back, even running more than a full-back.
During one attack, he tried to execute a one-two pass with Trejo, but the pass was half a beat too weak and was easily intercepted by the opposing midfielder.
"Hey! Pass!" Trejo shouted back at him, his face full of impatience, his tone tinged with disappointment.
Lu Chuan gritted his teeth and immediately chased back.
But his defensive positioning was poor, and he was easily beaten by a simple change of direction from the opponent.
In that moment, he felt a hint of frustration.
Álvaro García watched from the sidelines, shaking his head.
He stood with his arms crossed, his face bearing an expression that said, "I knew this would happen."
After training, Assistant Coach Carlos Zaragoza pulled Lu Chuan aside.
"Don't worry, that's just Paco's temper," Zaragoza said, handing him a bottle of water, wet and cold to the touch.
"Our 4-2-3-1 tactic places high demands on wingers.
You need time to adapt."
"I understand," Lu Chuan panted, sweat dripping from his forehead.
"Paco is a perfectionist," Zaragoza added, "He won't give you many chances to make mistakes."
Back at the apartment, Lu Chuan threw himself onto the sofa.
The physical exhaustion and mental pressure almost made him collapse.
He closed his eyes and opened the system interface in his mind.
The training space opened, and the scenes from the daytime training replayed over and over.
He analyzed every positioning error, every passing error.
He saw the complex arrowed runs Coach Paco drew on the tactics board, and he saw Trejo's helplessness when complaining.
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A warm current surged into his brain, and the complex tactical movement routes instantly became clear.
He seemed to be able to anticipate his teammates' next moves and understand every tactical intention of the coach.
His legs also felt more stable, his core strength seemed to be twisted into a rope, ready to meet more intense collisions.
This was the capital he needed to establish himself in the segunda división.
The next afternoon was an intra-squad scrimmage.
Lu Chuan was assigned to the substitute team.
His opponents were the main lineup, led by Trejo and Álvaro García.
After the match began, Lu Chuan was still suppressed.
The main team's coordination was seamless, and the substitute team hardly got the ball.
Lu Chuan tried to find teammates on the field, but his passes were always half a beat too slow, or intercepted by opponents in advance.
In the 20th minute of the first half, Lu Chuan received the ball on the wing and tried to force a breakthrough.
But Álvaro's defensive speed was extremely fast; a clean tackle dispossessed him, and a quick counterattack was launched.
The substitute team's defense was breached, and the main team scored easily.
Paco Jémez shook his head on the sidelines, saying nothing.
He just stood with his arms crossed, his gaze heavy.
During halftime, Lu Chuan ignored his teammates' complaints.
He simply sat in the corner, drinking water in big gulps, rapidly analyzing the first half's situation in his mind.
He saw the small gaps in the main team's defense and Trejo's habits in offensive organization.
"Their left-back likes to push forward, leaving space in the middle."
"Trejo's passes are deadly, but his defensive coverage is limited."
As the second half began, Lu Chuan's positioning became smarter.
He no longer stuck rigidly to the wing but moved more towards the center, looking for that fleeting opportunity.
He started trying quicker releases and more direct breakthroughs.
In the sixtieth minute, the opportunity came.
The substitute team's midfielder won the ball in the backfield and sent a long pass to Lu Chuan in the front.
He had his back to the goal, flanked by two main team defenders.
He didn't trap the ball but used his body to lean on one defender, gently flicking it with his right heel.
The ball passed through the gap between the two defenders, and he turned with the momentum, completing the evasion.
The entire sequence was fluid and seamless.
Facing the charging goalkeeper, Lu Chuan didn't hesitate for a moment, firing a powerful shot with his right foot.
The ball, like a cannonball, flew straight into the top corner of the net, whistling through the air as it fiercely struck the netting.
After scoring, Lu Chuan didn't celebrate; he merely picked up the ball and ran back to the center circle.
This calm, professional attitude made a hint of approval flash in Paco Jémez's eyes on the sidelines.
He nodded slightly, seemingly contemplating something.
In the final stages of the match, the substitute team's morale soared.
In the eightieth minute, Lu Chuan received a pass on the left wing.
He didn't choose to break through himself but looked up to survey the penalty area.
The substitute team's center-forward was making a high-speed run.
Lu Chuan delivered a precise cross with his right foot, the ball curving around the defenders and accurately finding the center-forward's head.
Header goal.
2-1, the substitute team came from behind to defeat the main team.
At the final whistle, Álvaro García walked over and high-fived Lu Chuan.
Although he didn't speak, the hostility in his eyes had vanished.
It was replaced by a complex emotion.
Trejo also walked over and patted Lu Chuan on the shoulder.
"Good game.
Come to my room, and we'll watch the Girona match footage together."
In the locker room, Paco Jémez announced the 18-man squad for the next match against Girona.
Lu Chuan's name was prominently listed, first on the substitute list.
That evening, Carlos's call came through.
"Espanyol scouts will be at your match against Girona.
Remember, this is your first official match in the segunda división, and your first window to showcase yourself to La Liga."
Lu Chuan held his phone, his heart pounding.
He knew that the real test had only just begun.