150: The reputation of "masters" and the "soft power" of the empire

October in Hartlepool still retained the unique gloom of the northeast of England.

The drizzling rain had been falling incessantly since last night, enveloping the entire town in a moist, thin mist.

The turf at Victoria Park Stadium appeared exceptionally green, nourished by the rain, and the distant sea breeze carried a salty scent.

Lin Feng stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee.

Steam condensed into fine droplets on the glass, blurring the view outside.

But his thoughts were remarkably clear.

Since returning from St George's Park yesterday, his phone hadn't stopped vibrating.

Call after call, text message after text message, all conveyed the same information—Lin Feng's position in the football world had undergone a subtle yet profound change.

"Boss, the report you asked for."

Richard Arnold pushed open the door, holding a thick folder.

Arnold's eyes were gleaming; he clutched the folder tightly, as if it wasn't just a stack of papers, but a ticket to the Premier League.

"Have a seat," Lin Feng said as he turned around and returned to the leather swivel chair behind his desk.

Arnold opened the folder and took out the first page of material.

"The situation is even better than we imagined."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his excited emotions, but the tremor in his voice still betrayed him.

"Since your performance at St George's Park became known, the number of inquiries we've received has tripled."

"It's not just media interviews; more often, it's direct contact from agents and players."

Lin Feng put down his coffee cup, listening attentively.

"Tell me more specifically."

Arnold turned to the next page.

"First, there's Adam Lallana from Southampton."

"His agent called me last night, asking about our transfer plans for the winter window."

"The tone was completely different, Boss."

"In the summer, they were quite cold towards us, thinking League One wasn't worthy of Lallana's talent."

"Now, they've proactively indicated that if the price is right, Lallana is very willing to join us."

Lin Feng nodded slightly.

The system had long marked Lallana as a target player; this 19-year-old attacking midfielder, with an A-grade potential rating, was a key target on his winter transfer list.

"Who else?"

"Nathaniel Clyne from Crystal Palace."

Arnold continued to flip the page.

"A 16-year-old right-back, extremely fast."

"His parents drove all the way to Hartlepool yesterday, wanting to visit our youth training facilities."

"Clyne himself said that if he could train under your guidance, he would be willing to give up invitations from other top club academies."

This news made Lin Feng's eyes light up.

Clyne was also an A-grade potential player marked by the system, destined to become the starting right-back for the England national team in the future.

To gain his attention early on was of great significance for the future development of Hartlepool United.

"Besides players, have there been any other changes?"

Arnold's expression became even more excited.

"Media attention has surged."

"The sports editor of The Times personally called me, hoping to arrange an exclusive interview."

"Sky Sports also expressed willingness to produce a special program about you."

"The theme is 'The Tactical Revolutionary of Football'."

Lin Feng waved his hand.

"The media can wait."

"The focus now is to prepare for the next match."

"Are the materials for Colchester United ready?"

Arnold took out another set of materials from the folder.

"They're ready, Boss."

"This is a tough nut to crack."

"They were just relegated from the Championship last season but retained most of their core squad."

"Their head coach is Paul Lambert, and his tactical style leans towards physical confrontation combined with quick counter-attacks."

Lin Feng took the materials and quickly scanned the data on them.

Colchester United's performance in League One this season had been decent, currently ranking in the middle of the league table.

However, their home record was impressive, having remained unbeaten in three consecutive home matches.

More importantly, this team had rich Championship experience and knew how to deal with strong opponents.

"What are their weaknesses?"

"Their physical conditioning is not scientific enough."

Arnold pointed to a set of numbers on the data sheet.

"In the last twenty minutes of the second half, their running distance significantly decreases."

"And they habitually drop deep when leading, giving opponents opportunities to counter-attack."

Lin Feng quickly calculated in his mind.

This information largely matched the data provided by the World-Class Club Development Platform.

On the tactical board in his mind, when Colchester United's formation was simulated under high-speed confrontation, a clear red alert zone appeared on their defensive line—a rhythm break point.

They couldn't adapt to rapid transitions between attack and defense, especially when the opponent suddenly accelerated, making their defense prone to gaps.

"Notify Old John to arrange technical and tactical training this afternoon."

"Focus on practicing rhythm changes and the decisive blow."

Lin Feng closed the folder.

"Also, contact the players and tell them I want to have a short meeting."

Arnold stood up to leave, but suddenly remembered something as he reached the door.

"Oh, Boss, there's also good news."

"Samsung has confirmed that the signing ceremony will be arranged before the next home match."

"Their Asia-Pacific president will fly in person to attend the ceremony."

Lin Feng nodded.

This sky-high naming rights contract would bring substantial funds to the club and further enhance Hartlepool United's international visibility.

After Arnold left, the office fell silent again.

Lin Feng walked back to the window, gazing at the players training in the distance.

The rain had stopped, and sunlight pierced through gaps in the clouds, casting dappled light and shadow on the wet turf.

Vardy was doing sprint drills, every step full of explosive power.

Walker was practicing crosses, the ball accurately finding its target in the penalty area time and again.

Sigurdsson, meanwhile, was repeatedly practicing long-range shots from thirty meters out, each strike powerful and accurate.

The talent and effort of these players were shining brightly under his tactical system.

And their success, in turn, proved his ability and vision.

This was a virtuous cycle.

His phone rang again; the caller ID showed Sophie Green.

"Lin, I just saw The Times report."

Sophie's voice came through the receiver, with a hint of excitement.

"They said you're 'the Nikola Tesla of football,' a solitary genius whose ideas are ahead of his time."

"That's an interesting analogy."

Lin Feng smiled faintly.

"The media always likes to exaggerate."

"No, I think that analogy is very accurate."

Sophie's tone became serious.

"Tesla was also misunderstood and questioned in his time."

"But history eventually proved that his ideas far surpassed those of his contemporaries."

"You are the same."

"Your performance at St George's Park has made everyone look at you with new eyes."

Lin Feng didn't respond, just listened quietly.

These words were not flattery; Lin Feng could tell that Sophie truly understood the logic and solitude behind his actions.

As a seasoned sports journalist, Sophie knew better than anyone what the change in Lin Feng's standing in the football world meant.

"Do you have confidence in tomorrow's match?"

Sophie changed the subject.

"Colchester United are not an easy opponent."

"They are very tough at home."

"Confidence?"

Lin Feng sat back down at his desk.

"Confidence is a luxury; preparation is a necessity."

"I never rely on confidence to win matches; I rely on thorough preparation and correct judgment."

Sophie's soft laughter came from the other end of the phone.

"That's what makes you different from everyone else."

"Other coaches always talk about confidence, morale, and luck before a match."

"But you always talk about data, tactics, and preparation."

"That makes you very special, and very charming."

The last sentence was spoken very softly, but Lin Feng still caught the implication within it.

Their relationship was quietly changing, evolving from initial interview subject and journalist into something more subtle.

"Sophie."

Lin Feng's voice softened.

"If you have time, come to the stadium to watch the match tomorrow."

"I'll save a ticket for you."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds.

"I'll be there."

Sophie's answer was simple, but Lin Feng heard the joy in it.

After hanging up the phone, Lin Feng stood up to go to the training ground.

The players had already assembled and were waiting for his arrival.

Today's training focused on tactical drills, especially how to control rhythm changes during a match.

Although Colchester United were a strong team, they had a fatal weakness—poor adaptability.

Once the pace of the game suddenly changed, they needed a relatively long time to adjust.

And this time lag in adjustment was Hartlepool United's opportunity.

Stepping out of the office building, Lin Feng took a deep breath of fresh air.

The post-rain air was mixed with the scent of grass and earth, invigorating him.

On the distant training ground, the players were warming up.

Their movements were coordinated, full of power and grace.

This team, under his guidance, had become a precise machine.

Every component was performing its maximum function in its place.

And now, this machine was about to face new tests.

The pressure of a winning streak, external expectations, the challenge of opponents.

But Lin Feng was not worried.

He believed in his tactics and, even more so, in the abilities of these players.

Ten consecutive wins were already within reach.