Porto, Portugal.
Boavista F.C. Training Base.
The November Atlantic sea breeze carried a cold, damp drizzle, whipping across the dilapidated turf of the B-team training ground like a lash.
"Hey! You, yellow-skinned kid! Are you here to play football, or to perform a slapstick comedy?"
A burst of harsh laughter erupted from the sidelines.
On the pitch, Lin Yuan, wearing a grey training vest, scrambled up from a mud pit and wiped a handful of sludge from his face. Just moments ago, a teammate's simple lateral pass had bounced three meters away when it hit his foot—sending it straight to the opposing striker's feet.
If he hadn't reacted quickly and used his body to block the shooting lane, that goal would have been a certainty.
"Damn it, that first touch is a disaster-class." On the sidelines, the B-team head coach, Pacheco, frowned and closed his notebook. "His physical attributes are top-tier, but this technique... it's worse than our U15s. That agent is wasting my time."
Pacheco turned to his assistant coach and said, "Tell him the trial is over. Boavista might not be a giant like Porto, but we're not a shelter either."
On the pitch, the game continued.
The opponent had clearly identified Lin Yuan as a "soft target." The blond Portuguese winger on the other side intentionally slowed down after receiving the ball, performing a step-over in front of Lin Yuan with a contemptuous look in his eyes.
His name was Ricardo, a talent demoted from the first team to find his form, possessing extremely flashy technique.
"Hi, Chinese Kung Fu?" Ricardo flicked the ball quickly between his feet, taunting in broken English, "I heard that players over there have to give money to the coach to get into the national team? Then you must be very poor, since you haven't even learned how to trap a ball."
Lin Yuan's pupils constricted sharply.
Those words were like a red-hot needle, stabbing ruthlessly into the most painful memory deep in his mind.
Three months ago, China, a certain provincial youth team base.
"Little Lin, your physical condition is indeed good, you're a good prospect." The beer-bellied national youth team coach blew smoke rings while playing with a roster in his hand. "But you know, the spots for this European training tour are very tight... See, shouldn't you show a little 'appreciation'?"
At that moment, the 18-year-old Lin Yuan looked at the empty envelope on the table with its heavy implications, thought of his parents washing dishes in a Portuguese restaurant to support his football dreams, and felt the blood rush to his head.
"I'll show your mother appreciation!"
An upper-cut shattered the coach's nose bridge, and with it, all of his future prospects in the country.
A permanent ban. An industry-wide notice of criticism... Reality returned to the present.
Seeing Lin Yuan "dazed," Ricardo curled his lip and flicked his ankle, preparing to use a humiliating knock-and-run to bypass this wooden post.
"I'm through!" Ricardo accelerated, moving extremely fast.
The ball rolled past Lin Yuan's side.
Ricardo's body was about to follow suit.
Just when everyone thought Lin Yuan would be beaten cleanly, the silent Eastern youth finally moved.
He didn't turn to chase the ball, because he knew his turning speed was slow.
He made a move that made everyone's scalp tingle—
Lin Yuan turned sideways, dropped his shoulder, and his core muscles tensed instantly. Like a preying black panther, he lunged laterally with full force, slamming ruthlessly into the sprinting Ricardo!
This wasn't a tackle.
This was murder.
"Bang!!!"
The tooth-aching sound of muscle collision echoed across the entire training ground.
It even drowned out the sound of the rain.
Ricardo, who was known for his physicality in the first team, was hit from the side as if by a speeding truck. He flew two meters horizontally, slamming heavily onto the waterlogged turf, kicking up a massive splash.
The ball rolled out of bounds.
The whistle blew shrilly.
The entire field fell silent.
Head coach Pacheco, who was already prepared to leave, stopped abruptly and turned back in shock.
Ricardo lay on the ground clutching his chest, groaning in pain, unable to get up for a long time. Meanwhile, the perpetrator, Lin Yuan, stood where he was, expressionlessly adjusting a slightly crooked shin guard.
He looked down at the genius on the ground, his gaze as cold as a Siberian wind.
"That is my zone."
Lin Yuan spoke in standard Portuguese, enunciating every word. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling scent of blood.
"Want to get past? Only if you leave your leg behind."
The Portuguese players who rushed up to shove Lin Yuan saw those blood-red eyes like a wild beast's, and their movements froze in unison, subconsciously taking half a step back.
A ruthless man.
This was a truly ruthless man.
This ruthlessness wasn't an act of hooliganism, but a determination to perish together if necessary.
In the distance, Pacheco's eyes gradually lit up.
He pushed away the umbrella the assistant coach offered, letting the rain soak his hair as he muttered to himself, "His technique is like shit... but, my God, this kid's physical confrontation and aggression are exactly like a young Roy Keane."
Boavista, known as the 'Checkered Team' in the Primeira Liga, had always been famous for its fierce and rough style of play. They didn't need embroidery artists; what they lacked was exactly this kind of mad dog who could crush an opponent's bones!
"Give him a contract," Pacheco said suddenly.
"What? But Coach, he can't even make a five-meter short pass..." The assistant coach was incredulous.
"I don't need him to pass," Pacheco stared at the solitary, proud figure in the rain, a savage smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. "I only need him in the midfield to wreck everyone who wants to play beautiful football."
...Inside the locker room.
Lin Yuan sat in a corner, unlacing his mud-caked boots. The surrounding teammates intentionally or unintentionally avoided him; the impact from earlier had cast too large a psychological shadow on them.
Lin Yuan didn't care.
He was even prepared to pack his bags and go back to help out at the Chinese restaurant.
Right then, a cold, mechanical voice exploded in his mind without warning.
[Detected host's strong desire for destruction and emotional volatility.]
[Conditions met.]
["Football Bully Milestone System" activated.]
[Detected a "Devastating Collision" that just occurred. Target: Primeira Liga rotation-level player. Caused psychological fear (slight).]
[Gained notoriety points: 200.]
[Newbie Gift Pack distributed: Obtained S-rank passive skill—"Savage Physique"]
(Description: Your physical durability is increased by 30%, and injury recovery speed is increased by 50%. You can run and engage in physical confrontation tirelessly like a wild beast.)
[Current Main Quest started: Establish yourself at Boavista.]
(Quest Reward: Unlock access to "Novice Legendary Training Ground".)
Lin Yuan's fingers tying his shoelaces suddenly froze.
He looked up at his muddy, fierce-eyed reflection in the mirror, and a slow curve formed at the corner of his mouth.
"Bully System?"
"Heh... perfect."
"If I can't be a good person, then I'll be the demon that makes the entire European football world tremble."