In the office at the Paris Saint-Germain training base, Sports Director Henrique was reviewing the scout report his assistant had just brought. Outside the window, the first team's training was underway, with Neymar and Mbappé practicing new combination plays, their laughter occasionally drifting through the glass window.
"Director, did you see that 6-0 from Hoffenheim?" Assistant Coach Lucas handed over a tablet, on which a highlight reel of Oliver's four goals was playing on a loop.
"It's that kid who used to be in our youth academy."
Henrique took the tablet and quickly skimmed through the match highlights. In the video, Oliver calmly slotted the ball home after continuously breaking through two defenders, and then scored a world-class goal from 25 meters out that flew straight into the top corner. Henrique's expression gradually changed from nonchalant to serious, but soon returned to calm.
"It's just a Cup match," he handed the tablet back to Lucas, "The opponent was just a 3rd division German team; the defensive intensity is completely different from Ligue 1."
He took a sip of coffee, not too concerned about the news.
"But the four goals were indeed beautiful," Lucas said, flipping through the statistics, "Especially that one from 25 meters out…"
"Lucas, look outside the window," Henrique interrupted him, pointing out the window.
On the training ground, Mbappé had just completed a brilliant backheel pass, and Neymar, after receiving the ball, deftly chipped it into the net, drawing applause from the coaching staff and personnel on the sidelines.
"See that? That's what you call football artistry," Henrique said with a satisfied smile.
"The superstars we spent so much money on are precisely for this kind of dominant performance." He turned and pulled an old file from the cabinet.
"As for Oliver? I remember him. The youth academy coach said he had good football IQ, but his physical confrontation was too poor, and…" He flipped to the last page of the evaluation report, "His technical skill evaluation was 'B-', with insufficient potential for improvement."
Lucas shrugged after hearing this: "But now it seems his progress is not small."
"Just a flash in the pan; there are too many such examples in football," Henrique closed the file and continued.
"Dozens of kids leave the youth academy every year. It's normal for one or two to shine briefly in other Leagues, but those who can sustain it at the top level are one in ten thousand. Don't forget, our youth academy now has many other talents who are far more excellent than Oliver."
On the training ground, Neymar and Mbappé finished a set of combination drills, chatting and walking arm-in-arm. Henrique watched this scene, his smile deepening: "Look at those two; that's world-class quality. Oliver? Let's talk when he can perform like that for ten consecutive matches in the Bundesliga. Remember, Lucas, the German Cup and the Champions League are two different things. Besides, we have a world-class attack; we don't need to gamble on such youth academy discards."
Henrique's evaluation of Oliver remained just four words: youth academy discard. At this moment, Mbappé on the training ground seemed to notice the gaze from the office and waved towards it. Henrique immediately smiled and waved back. Henrique suddenly remembered something and said, "By the way, for next week's match against Lyon, has the media department prepared the press release? Emphasize the chemistry of the Neymar and Mbappé duo."
"It's already being arranged." Lucas quickly took notes, "Should we also pay attention to Oliver's subsequent performance?"
Henrique waved his hand: "Just routine tracking is fine; no need to invest too much energy."
His gaze returned to the training ground, where Mbappé was demonstrating a dazzling string of step-overs.
"Our attention should be on more important things."
Oliver's file was casually shoved back into the bottom drawer of the cabinet, piled with other discarded youth player profiles. Outside the window, Neymar and Mbappé began a new round of combination training; every touch of theirs carried the weight of hundreds of millions of Euros in value. Meanwhile, hundreds of kilometers away in Germany, a young man they had once discarded was quietly putting in extra training. When Henrique left the office, that scout report about Oliver was already buried under a stack of transfer budget documents. Paris Saint-Germain's starlight remained brilliant; no one would care about a star that had once faded here and then briefly shone elsewhere, at least not for now.
...
In Hoffenheim, the atmosphere had been particularly tense these past two days. The training ground was shrouded in the early morning mist. Nagelsmann stood on the sidelines, hands in his sports jacket pockets, watching the players warm up. The first leg of the Champions League qualifier against Liverpool was just two days away, and everyone at Hoffenheim was preparing diligently.
"See? This is the benefit of the rotation strategy," Assistant Coach Schroeder whispered, flipping through a data board.
"Playing with all reserves in the German Cup means the starters are now like fully charged beasts." He pointed to Kramarić, who was doing shuttle runs, "Look at his explosiveness; it's even stronger than during preseason training."
Nagelsmann nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping across the training ground. Vogt and Gnabry were doing passing and moving drills on the other side, their rhythm as fluid as a mirror image; Goalkeeper Baumann made three consecutive diving saves from tricky shots in goalkeeping training, drawing cheers from the goalkeeping coach. This situation of a fully healthy and in-form squad was the direct reward for Nagelsmann's bold use of rotation in the German Cup. Oliver stood at the edge of the team practice, diligently conducting his wing training.
Although his name wasn't on the Champions League roster, Nagelsmann specifically arranged for him to participate in all tactical drills. He was still very attentive to Oliver. When he passed Oliver, he said, "Oliver, pay attention to Kramarić's defensive positioning. See how he anticipates the opponent's passing routes. You can learn a lot of useful things from him."
"Understood, Coach." Oliver nodded, quietly wiping the sweat from his forehead.
He gradually understood Nagelsmann's intention; rather than making a rushed Champions League debut, it was better to first absorb tactical nourishment from top-level matches through team practice. Even if it was just as a sparring partner, this was Champions League-level sparring. When other players began split-squad drills, he was arranged to observe from the sidelines, noting defensive vulnerabilities in the simulated Liverpool lineup. Everyone entered the tactics room. Nagelsmann used a laser pointer to indicate the Liverpool formation on the projection screen. The red dot of the laser pointer rested precisely on Arnold and Robertson's positions.
"When they press high, their full-backs will push far forward, so we need to use a three-center-back system to create a local numerical advantage. This is a relatively important point."
Next, Nagelsmann drew several arrows on his tablet.
"Gnabry, you need to remember that after dropping back to receive the ball, immediately look for Uth's run into that space."
Gnabry was sitting in the first row, diligently taking notes. During this tactical lesson, Oliver voluntarily sat in the back row, leaving the front seats for his first-team teammates. Although he was in the back, his notebook was still densely filled with tactical details. Despite not being assigned specific tasks, he found that every tactical design by Nagelsmann was interconnected like a puzzle. When the coach mentioned "exploiting the slow turning speed of the opponent's center-backs," he subconsciously drew an asterisk in his notebook. What the coach said was precisely the key to his brace in the German Cup. After the tactical meeting, Nagelsmann called him over and handed him an invitation.
"Oliver, for Saturday's match, you'll sit in the family section on the right side of the main stand. Bring your notebook and focus on observing Liverpool's full-backs' defensive habits. Although you can't play, I still have a task for you: watch carefully and learn well."
Oliver took the invitation. The gilded Champions League logo felt slightly warm in his palm.
"I will watch very carefully, Coach."
"Not finished yet," Nagelsmann's voice suddenly became stern.
"I've left you separate homework. After the match, you need to analyze three points: First, their recovery speed when counter-attacked; second, their communication methods in wide defensive areas; third, Klopp's substitution strategy and reasons throughout the match. Show me your notes afterward."
Nagelsmann still cared about Oliver; at this moment, he was more serious and responsible than a school teacher with a student. In the dormitory that evening, after Oliver returned. The lights on the training ground outside the window had already been extinguished. After washing up, he lay on his bed and brought up the virtual training ground in the system space. A light blue, translucent interface unfolded before him.
"Remaining training time today: 8 hours"
He selected the "High-Pressure Pressing Situation Passing" module, and holographic projections of Liverpool players immediately appeared before him.
A virtual Arnold pressed towards him. Oliver deftly flicked the ball with his right foot, drawing an arc along the system-indicated passing route.
"Success rate 87%; please increase the power of your ground pass."
In the system space, the sweat on his forehead hadn't dried yet, and he immediately initiated the "Edge of the Box Cold Shot" training.
A virtual Matip loomed like an iron tower. Oliver suddenly changed direction, flicking the ball horizontally, and unleashed a dipping shot at the optimal shooting point marked by the system.
"Shot speed 94km/h, angle deviation 1.2 degrees."
During training breaks, he also pulled up the tactical notes he had taken during the day, constantly simulating the counter-attacking routines Nagelsmann had designed on the training ground today within the system.When a virtual Gnabry ran according to the tactical board, Oliver suddenly realized that if he took one more half-step before passing, he could better exploit the opponent center-back's blind spot.
"New tactical insight detected, automatically saved."...
Training time flew by. The clock once again pointed to around 6 AM, and the system displayed a "Daily training time exhausted" prompt.
After exiting the space, Oliver got out of bed and stretched comfortably. Training within the system only consumed mental energy and didn't deplete his physical body in reality, but the eight-hour limit always left him wanting more. As he lay in bed, the afterimages of the virtual training ground seemed to linger in his mind. The night had not been wasted. Nagelsmann's complete tactical plan for facing Liverpool was now thoroughly understood by him. At the same time, he gained new insights into Liverpool's common routines.
After getting up, he felt invigorated. Two days later, on Champions League night, he would sit in that stadium for the first time as both a professional player and a spectator. Although he couldn't personally step onto the green pitch, Oliver understood that what Nagelsmann gave him was never just an ordinary ticket, but a key to unlocking a higher level of football understanding. He could feel the coach's trust in him, and he also hoped to repay the coach with his excellent performance.