20: Three teenagers report

Hartlepool United defeated Mansfield Town 2-1 away, bringing back valuable three points from the muddy Field Mill Stadium.

Hartlepool United continued to lead the League Two standings, and the storm from the North was sweeping across the entire League with an unstoppable momentum.

The joy of victory permeated the team bus, but Lin Feng's heart had already flown back to the office overlooking the entire training center.

On August 28, 2006, the sky over Hartlepool was covered by thick clouds, with not a single ray of sunlight breaking through.

Three young and unfamiliar faces appeared almost simultaneously at the gates of the Phoenix Training Center.

Kasper Schmeichel's figure was tall, his golden short hair still stood out against the gloomy sky, and his eyes were sharp, carrying an inherent pride, a pride that came from his prominent surname and his absolute self-confidence.

Danny Simpson, on the other hand, appeared much calmer. His steps were firm, and beneath his dark skin were solid muscle lines. This young man, who came from the Manchester United youth academy, showed no hint of the impetuousness of a rich kid, only an extreme desire for game opportunities.

The last to arrive was Gylfi Sigurðsson.

This young man from Iceland had fair skin and a hint of immaturity still on his face. He carried a simple backpack and curiously surveyed everything in front of him, his eyes clear, as if reflecting the gloomy clouds in the sky.

Three contracts were placed on Lin Feng's desk almost simultaneously.

Kasper Schmeichel joined on loan, with a non-mandatory buyout clause worth five hundred thousand pounds included in the contract.

Danny Simpson was also on loan, with a lower buyout clause price of only three hundred thousand pounds.

Gylfi Sigurðsson was a permanent transfer, with a youth training compensation fee of one hundred thousand pounds. Hartlepool United paid seventy thousand of it, and the remaining thirty thousand was borne by the sixteen-year-old and his family.

Old John Mcdonald looked at these three documents, his hands even trembling slightly.

He couldn't understand what kind of magic Lin Feng had used to gather these three talents, from Manchester City, Manchester United, and Reading youth academies respectively, to this small League Two club at such a low price.

“Boss, they...” Old John's voice carried a hint of uncertainty.

Lin Feng's gaze returned from the nascent training ground outside the window, calmly resting on Old John's face.

“Schmeichel, his reaction speed and distribution ability are something Konstantopoulos doesn't possess. He isn't a traditional goalkeeper; he will be our first starting point for transitioning from defense to attack.”

His finger tapped lightly on the desk, as if tapping on a tactics board.

“Simpson, what he learned at Manchester United is systematic defense. His ability to go up and down the flank will allow Snodgrass greater attacking freedom on the right. He isn't just a simple full-back; he is a sharp blade on the flank that can strike at the enemy's heart at any time.”

“As for Sigurðsson...” Lin Feng's lips curved into a subtle arc. “His feet are our heavy artillery for breaking through compact defenses. His vision will allow Vardy's speed advantage to be exploited to the fullest.”

Old John was mesmerized.

He felt as if he wasn't listening to an introduction of new signings, but rather a military strategist introducing his three secret weapons about to be deployed to the battlefield.

Every word of Lin Feng's precisely analyzed the characteristics of the new signings and perfectly integrated them into his unheard-of tactical system.

At this moment, Old John's last shred of doubt vanished.

He looked at the overly young Chinese boss in front of him, and a feeling of almost reverence welled up in his heart.

This wasn't “treasure hunting”; this was a miracle.

Lin Feng wasn't a scout; he was a “God of Scouts” who could foresee the future, always finding those forgotten and buried treasures from some corner of the world.

The afternoon training session took place on the usable pitch at the Phoenix Training Center.

The new signings stepped onto this brand-new ground for the first time.

Schmeichel stood in front of the goal, spreading his arms, almost covering the entire goal. In an internal scrimmage, Vardy's powerful shot was pushed out of bounds with a single-handed save by a last-ditch dive. Vardy froze in place, then gave him a thumbs-up.

Danny Simpson, playing at right-back, made a precise sliding tackle, cleanly dispossessing Adam Boyd, then immediately got up and sent a long pass that accurately found Vardy in the attacking third. The transition from defense to attack was seamless.

And Gylfi Sigurðsson displayed composure beyond his age in midfield. Every touch of his seemed so reasonable, every pass just right. Before the end of training, his long-range shot from outside the box, the ball whistling like a cannonball and crashing against the crossbar with a loud bang, made everyone present gasp.

Old John watched from the sidelines, his heart pounding. He knew that the team's strength was undergoing a qualitative leap.

Meanwhile, in the office of the Hartlepool Mail, Sophie Green was staring at transfer news on her computer screen, her brows furrowed.

Schmeichel, Simpson, Sigurðsson.

These three low-cost, high-efficiency signings brought her suspicion of Lin Feng to a peak.

This could no longer be explained by simply having “good vision.”

She felt that Lin Feng must have some “unique scouting channels” or a vast information network beyond her imagination.

Her journalistic instinct told her that a huge secret was hidden behind this.

At the construction site of the training center, the tower cranes slowly rotated, emitting a low hum.

Workers were doing the final finishing touches for the soon-to-be-completed makeshift changing rooms and medical facilities.

Everything was proceeding in an orderly fashion according to Lin Feng's blueprint.

Lin Feng stood by the office window, his gaze piercing through the rain and landing on the vibrant training ground.

A smile of anticipation played on his lips.

The “prodigies” had gathered; everything was ready.

Next up was the first litmus test of their quality—the League Cup second round, a home match against Championship team, Leicester City.