Chapter 13: You Might Have No Choice but to Go In
Many people around the world believe that Brazilians are natural-born party lovers whose lives revolve around football, samba, and carnival.
Robert, a football enthusiast and well-known travel blogger, came to South America partly to see whether that stereotype was true.
From Rio de Janeiro beneath Corcovado Mountain to the vast metropolis of São Paulo, Robert had already spent nearly half a month traveling across Brazil.
In his blog the previous night, he wrote:
Football and carnival are indeed central to Brazilian life, but they are more than entertainment—they are a form of spiritual support. In a society filled with traffic congestion, bureaucratic pressure, and economic uncertainty, people need passion to release their stress and hold on to hope.
Today was his final day in São Paulo.
---
Arriving in the Morumbi district, Robert immediately noticed the sharp contrast of the city. On one side of the road stood luxurious villas surrounded by gardens, swimming pools, and tennis courts. On the other side, separated only by a wall and a narrow street, stretched rows of densely packed red-brick houses.
This was Paraisópolis, one of the largest favelas in South America.
"Pass! Pass!"
At the end of a small alley, a group of teenagers were playing football barefoot on a rough concrete surface, using worn bags as goalposts.
Robert had seen many street matches during his trip, yet he always stopped to watch. There was something pure about football played in its simplest form.
"Carlos, why didn't you pass? What, do you think you're Ken?" one boy shouted.
Carlos blushed slightly but replied stubbornly,
"Maybe I'm not Ken yet… but one day I'll play at Morumbi Stadium just like him."
The surrounding adults laughed and applauded his ambition.
"Ken?" Robert murmured to himself. "He must be a São Paulo player."
After politely asking permission, he took a few photos before continuing his walk.
---
Passing a small roadside shop, he again heard the same name.
"Ken's performance yesterday was incredible. It's been a long time since São Paulo produced someone like him."
"That's right—cheers to our Ken!"
Robert's curiosity deepened. Clearly, this young player had already made a strong impression on the local community.
He stepped forward politely.
"Excuse me, I'm a football blogger visiting from abroad. Could you tell me more about the player you're talking about?"
The men studied him briefly, then relaxed once they realized he was simply a traveler.
"Ken is one of our academy talents," one of them explained. "He disappeared for two years after family issues and trained elsewhere in South America. Now he's back—and stronger than ever."
Another added,
"If he had stayed continuously, he might already be playing in Europe. But maybe those two years helped him grow."
---
Back at his hotel later that afternoon, Robert searched online for Ken's name. Match highlights from the previous night quickly appeared. Watching the clips again—the calm assist, the controlled movement in tight spaces—he felt increasingly impressed.
"This trip was worth it," he muttered.
Soon he began writing a new blog post titled:
"The Streets Still Produce Kings: The Return of São Paulo's Rising Star."
With his large follower base, the article quickly attracted attention, being shared widely across football communities.
---
Far away, inside a quiet seaside villa in another country, a tense conversation was unfolding.
A middle-aged man sat calmly on a sofa, while another man stood before him, visibly uneasy.
"I told you to stay quiet for a while," the older man said coldly. "You've already caused enough trouble."
"I didn't expect things to escalate like this…" the younger man muttered.
Before he could continue, the older man's phone rang. He answered, listened silently for several seconds, then ended the call.
His gaze slowly lifted toward the man standing in front of him.
After a long pause, he spoke in a calm but heavy voice:
"This time… you might have no choice but to go in."