14: Chapter 14: Vision 80! Overall Rating 71!

August 10, 2015, afternoon.

Tottenham Training Centre, U21 dressing room. The air was filled with a mixture of disinfectant, sweat, and fresh grass, laced with a hint of that suppressed excitement unique to young people.

Yu Bai sat on the bench against the wall, his back straight, fingers unconsciously picking at the stitching of his training pants. In his ears was the clear, steady voice of head coach Ugo Ehiogu reading the squad list.

"Goalkeeper: Hugo Lloris."

"Defenders: Kyle Walker-Peters, Dominic Ball, Cameron Carter-Vickers, Connor Ogilvie."

"Midfielders: Filip Lesniak, Alex Pritchard, Nathan Oduwa."

"Forwards: Ismail Azzaoui, Shayon Harrison, Shaquille Coulthirst."

As the names were read one by one, there was no "Yu Bai".

Yu Bai's fingertips stopped moving, his body tensing almost imperceptibly for a split second. But his face remained expressionless, his gaze merely following the coach's voice. It wasn't until Ugo Ehiogu closed his clipboard, scanned the group, and finally let his eyes land on him, signaling the assistant coach, that things changed.

A neatly folded number 21 jersey was handed to Yu Bai. It was the home kit, entirely snow-white, with only two deep navy blue borders on the cuffs and shoulders, like ink marks on the edge of rice paper. Most striking was the blood-red letters on the chest, AIA, without any transition, like wet paint on a white wall, or a private seal stamped over his heart. On the back were the dark blue "21" and "YU". The fabric felt cool to the touch, with the slightly stiff texture unique to new clothes.

The substitute list. He saw his own name, listed first. In front was Shayon Harrison's name, followed by a conspicuous number 10.

Dylan Duncan, sitting next to him, hadn't heard Yu Bai's name, and a flash of disappointment crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by a smile.

He tapped Yu Bai's shoulder with his fist, lowered his voice, and said in a volume only the two of them could hear: "Bro, that's great! You made the squad! Don't be nervous, I'll be your cheerleader on the sidelines, definitely louder than those dancing girls!"

Yu Bai took the jersey, the fabric feeling strange and heavy in his hands. He asked Dylan in a low, dry voice: "Why is the starting goalkeeper Hugo Lloris? And... what about Harry Winks? He didn't make the squad?"

Dylan leaned closer, his voice dropping even lower, with the pride of sharing a secret: "Lloris is back from injury and is coming down to get a feel for the game; he'll probably go back after this match. As for Harry Winks?"

He raised his eyebrows, his tone full of envy, "Mate, he doesn't have to play U21 anymore! For the opening match against Manchester United, Christian Eriksen is injured, and the check-up results aren't good. Mauricio Pochettino specifically named him to train with the first team, ready to step up at any time! Envious, right? That's what you call a meteoric rise."

Yu Bai's throat moved, but he didn't speak, just nodded forcefully. Envious? Of course he was. That feeling of being needed, of being dragged directly to the edge of the highest stage, was like a ball of fire, searing his chest.

"Yu." Shayon Harrison walked over at this moment, his face unable to hide his happiness. He tugged at the hem of his brand-new number 10 jersey, "Look, because you're always feeding me the ball, I actually got to wear the number 10."

He looked at Yu Bai with sincere eyes, "All you lack is time, really. I believe that before long, you'll be wearing the first-team jersey, standing in the tunnel at White Hart Lane."

Dylan nodded vigorously from the side: "Exactly! All those balls Shayon gets were fed by you!"

The dressing room was filled with the unique pre-match atmosphere, a mix of jokes and tension. But the excitement that had been in Yu Bai's heart since yesterday hadn't faded; instead, under the influence of this collective atmosphere, it burned even brighter, like a little sun tucked inside his chest, constantly radiating heat, making his fingertips slightly numb.

Last night, Linda finally delivered those mountains of football textbooks, stacked almost half a person high. Her attitude was so respectful it was almost fearful, and she carefully reported the progress on finding a professional agent, swearing she would get it done as quickly as possible.

Yu Bai looked at those brick-like books and printed materials and didn't give her a hard time. He disliked trouble; since she knew to be afraid and her efficiency had improved, using her for now was fine. As for a professional agent, that matter was urgent.

If he really reached the point of a loan, he would need to sign a professional contract with Tottenham and needed professional negotiation and planning; Linda's connections and insight were far from enough. He gave her clear instructions: find the best.

After Linda left, Yu Bai looked at the pile of materials, originally intending to read them slowly in his spare time. But deep in his consciousness, the [Memory Bread] icon seemed to be faintly glowing, carrying an irresistible temptation. He hesitated for a while, but ultimately "used" it.

What happened next was like a dream of high-speed infusion. Massive amounts of text, charts, tactical diagrams, position analyses, formation evolutions... It wasn't rote memorization, but an understanding, a clear, imprinted connection. By the time he finally broke free from that immersive state, the sky outside the window was already turning pale. He had unknowingly pulled an all-nighter.

The effect was stunning.

[Name: Yu Bai]

[Age: 32]

[Speed 65, Acceleration 53, Strength 38, Ball Control 73→74, Passing 82→83, Shooting 56→57]

[Dribbling 90, Tackling 24→29, Heading 28, Vision 70→80, Composure 65, Stamina 61]

[Overall Rating 68→71]

Ball Control, Passing, and Shooting each increased by 1 point, which was a steady improvement.

Tackling surged by 5 points, perhaps because he understood the principles of defensive positioning and timing.

And the most astonishing was Vision, which jumped directly by 10 points, reaching 80!

This wasn't an improvement in dynamic visual acuity or observation range, but a qualitative change in "understanding" of pitch space, player movement, and tactical loopholes.

Those complex 4-3-3, 4-2-3-1, and 3-5-2 formations, the pros, cons, and responsibilities of every position, and the key areas for attacking-defensive transitions were now as clear as a 3D map in his mind. He could even instantly simulate several Passing routes in his mind to break down the opponent's defensive system.

It is no exaggeration to say that the current Yu Bai had been forcibly elevated to a tactical theoretical level far beyond the U21 average. All that remained was to translate theory into muscle memory and match instinct.

In just a few short days, his overall rating had soared from 53 to 71. He felt that his understanding and execution of the attack might really allow him to start in an EFL Championship level match. Of course, that was provided his teammates could keep up with his thinking, and his still-fragile body could withstand the physical duels of adult League matches.

After pulling a big all-nighter, his steps were a bit unsteady when he went downstairs. Mrs. Susan was startled when she saw his pale face and heavy dark circles.

Yu Bai only said he got too absorbed in watching game tapes last night, hurriedly ate some breakfast, then went back to his room and fell asleep, not even waking up for lunch. It wasn't until before Heading out in the afternoon that he hastily stuffed a few bites of bread, downed a cup of espresso, and arrived at the training centre to prepare for the 7:00 PM match. His brain was still a bit foggy, as if separated by a layer of frosted glass, but deep in his thoughts, it was unusually clear and sharp.

The Thompson Family would all be present tonight. David, Susan, Grandma Margaret, and even Michael and Chloe said they would come.

He sat in the dressing room, listening to his somewhat rapid heartbeat mixing with the sounds of his teammates checking their gear and whispering, his head still buzzing, but deep in his consciousness, there was a small patch that was terrifyingly calm.