18: Sigurdsson

The joy of advancing in the EFL Trophy quietly spread through the small town of Hartlepool.

The singing from the away fans' stands even drowned out the sound of rain hitting the canopy above.

This victory brought the Club extra bonuses and sustained, albeit limited, media attention.

The team maintained a reassuring upward trend in all competitions.

The players' faces were beaming with the confidence that came from victory, a heartfelt smile that stood in stark contrast to the despair at the beginning of the season.

In the locker room, they shed their soaked jerseys, discussing the next match, their eyes full of anticipation.

But in the Club President's office, the rain outside tapped against the window, isolating the hustle and bustle of the outside world.

Lin Feng's battlefield had already shifted.

Before him was no football field, only a cold LCD screen.

On the screen, red and green K-line charts pulsed silently like an electrocardiogram, recording the most subtle beats of the global capital market.

The trend chart of NTDOY appeared so clear in Lin Feng's eyes.

With the release date of the Nintendo Wii console approaching, market expectations for its motion-sensing interactive revolution were pushing the stock price to new highs.

Every red K-line seemed to foreshadow an impending global entertainment storm.

The NVDA curve was even sharper.

Nvidia's release of its new generation of graphics cards also sparked a fervent pursuit from tech enthusiasts and investors, with every leak of performance parameters acting like an adrenaline shot for the stock price.

The continuously rising trading volume was like the surging of countless funds, foreshadowing another change of overlord in the field of graphics processing.

And far across the ocean, Apple's AAPL values were steadily rising.

The product that would redefine mobile phones was still in Steve Jobs' top-secret lab, but the strong sales of its iPod and various rumors about the future had already caused its stock price to surge beneath the surface.

Lin Feng's gaze calmly swept over these familiar trajectories.

In his mind, the [World-Class Club Development Platform]'s [Market Analysis] module was precisely indicating every upcoming peak from an advanced perspective.

On the module's interface, a countdown, accurate to the second, reminded him of the optimal buying and selling opportunities.

He did not hesitate in the slightest; the moment the system indicated that the stock price had reached a phased high, he decisively hit the keyboard.

With a light click of the mouse, the numbers on the screen flashed at a dazzling speed.

Sell.

Clearance.

The 200,000 pounds invested had, in just a few weeks, rooted and sprouted wildly like magic seeds.

The number in the account finally settled at an astonishing amount.

One million four hundred thousand pounds.

After deducting the principal, the net profit was as high as one million two hundred thousand pounds.

This money was enough to transform any League Two Club, from struggling on the brink of survival to becoming a small local tycoon in the transfer market.

Lin Feng's face still held that calm, unruffled expression.

He closed the trading software as if he had just completed a routine task, without a ripple of emotion.

He picked up the phone on his desk and dialed Old John Stone's extension.

"Mr. Stone, please come to my office."

A few minutes later, John Stone pushed open the door, holding a registration document for new signing Robert Snodgrass.

Snodgrass, the winger from the Scotland League, had been successfully registered.

"Boss, all the paperwork for Snodgrass has been completed, and he can represent us in all upcoming matches."

Lin Feng nodded and turned the computer monitor towards Mr. Stone.

"Mr. Stone, a sum from my personal investment account can now be transferred to the Club account."

John Stone adjusted his Reading glasses and leaned closer to the screen.

When he saw the number on the screen, composed of '1' and '4' and a string of '0's, his breathing stopped instantly.

His hand trembled slightly, almost unable to hold the document.

Old John's glasses even slipped slightly to the tip of his nose due to the twitching of his face.

"This... this is..."

His voice became somewhat hoarse from extreme shock, even with a hint of disbelieving tremor.

One million four hundred thousand pounds.

This number, for a Club that was just recently meticulously budgeting for a few tens of thousands of pounds in transfer fees, was simply astronomical.

It was much higher than the Club's operating budget for an entire season.

"I mentioned it to you before, a successful international financial investment."

Lin Feng's tone was understated, as if he were commenting on the good weather today, forming a stark contrast to Mr. Stone's discomposure.

John Stone's mind went blank.

He looked at this excessively young Chinese Boss before him, and the remaining shred of rationality in his heart was completely shattered at this moment.

Fine beads of sweat even seeped from his forehead.

Genius.

This was beyond what "investment genius" could describe.

This was simply the "Midas touch," a miracle.

He began to truly believe that every word Lin Feng had said, every seemingly crazy plan, could become a reality.

"Transfer all this money into the Club account, specifically for the first phase of construction of the 'Phoenix Training Center'."

Lin Feng's voice pulled Mr. Stone back from his shock to reality.

"Contact the construction team immediately; I want the project to start right away."

Lin Feng's gaze seemed to penetrate the office walls, seeing the training ground he had envisioned.

The name "Phoenix Training Center" not only represented rebirth from the ashes.

It was also the cradle for cultivating "prodigies" in Lin Feng's football empire, the core cornerstone of the team's future strength.

In his mind, the design blueprints for the training ground had long been formed.

Not just a few pitches, but also the most advanced medical rehabilitation center, tactical analysis rooms, and player dormitories.

This money would not just be for building facilities, but an investment in the future.

"Yes... Yes! Boss! I'll get right on it!"

John Stone almost scurried out of the office; he needed to find a place to calm down and digest this sudden, enormous impact.

The office returned to quiet once more.

Lin Feng's gaze fell on the progress report regarding prodigy recruitment.

Robert Snodgrass had officially joined the team; his left-footed technique and dribbling ability would add new vitality to the team's wing attacks.

Negotiations with Manchester City and Manchester United for the loan of Kasper Schmeichel and Danny Simpson had also entered a substantive stage after Hartlepool United demonstrated strong financial capabilities.

Lin Feng knew that these two frustrated talents from elite academies yearned for first-team opportunities.

Although Schmeichel was in Manchester City's reserve team, his shot-stopping ability and reaction speed shone with an A+ rating in Lin Feng's Player Radar, far surpassing Konstantopoulos.

And Simpson, as Manchester United's youth right-back, was strong in both attack and defense, a crucial piece for full-backs to push up and assist in Lin Feng's tactical system.

Through John Stone, Lin Feng conveyed a clear message to their respective Clubs and the players themselves: Hartlepool United could offer full wages, and more importantly, stable playing time and a clear tactical role.

The only obstacle came from the Icelandic teenager at Reading, Gylfi Sigurðsson.

Just then, Lin Feng's phone rang.

It was John Stone calling.

"Boss, we just received news that Gylfi Sigurðsson's agent has contacted us."

Mr. Stone's voice was still a little excited, even somewhat rushed.

"He said that although Reading Club is unwilling to release him, Gylfi himself has a very strong desire to join us, believing there are better development opportunities here. He's even... even willing to pay a portion of the youth training compensation himself to facilitate the transfer!"

A flicker of approval flashed in Lin Feng's eyes.

This kind of ambition and courage for the future was precisely what he admired.

A sixteen-year-old boy, daring to pay out of his own pocket for the development of his professional career.

This was not just talent, but also rare determination and foresight.

"Tell his agent that if he is willing to bear a part, the Club can make up the rest."

Lin Feng's voice was firm and decisive.

"We need to sign him as soon as possible."

Hanging up the phone, Lin Feng's lips curved into a confident smile.

The funds were in place.

The prodigies were gathering.

The construction of the Phoenix Training Center was also about to commence fully.

His blueprint for a football empire was slowly transforming from an illusory concept into a tangible reality.