Chapter 69: A New Beginning

When Dai Zhiwei arrived at Villarreal, the 2015-16 La Liga season had just reached its halfway point after 19 of 38 rounds. Two days earlier, Atlético Madrid had defeated Celta Vigo 2-0 away from home in the nineteenth round, maintaining a two-point lead at the top of the table and securing the unofficial title of winter champions. Barcelona, with one match in hand, sat second, Real Madrid trailed by another two points in third, while Villarreal held fourth, just a single point behind Real.

Villarreal had just notched up their sixth consecutive league win, collecting 39 points at the halfway mark to remain fourth, only one point behind Real Madrid and a full eight points ahead of Celta in fifth. The team's leading scorer at that moment was Bakambu, who had netted twice the previous round—a Congolese striker who, in later years, would join Beijing Guoan, and who had only just signed with Villarreal that season.

"Bruno, has the club submitted our Europa League squad list yet?" Dai Zhiwei asked his captain during a fitness session.

Villarreal had successfully advanced from the Europa League group stages. Besides submitting their initial squad list before September 1st, each club was allowed only one further revision, due by midnight on February 1st. Dai, concerned that his transfer had come too late and the squad for the knockout stages might already be set, naturally voiced his worry.

"Don't worry, the club never submits the list until the last possible moment. There'll be adjustments—you should have no trouble making the squad," Bruno Soriano, the experienced team captain, replied quietly to Dai. Bruno had a great liking for the young striker, not only for his technical prowess but also for his humility—a rarity compared to the arrogance often displayed by Europe's and South America's brightest young talents.

Of course, this favorable impression was helped by the fact that Dai was a forward and Bruno a defender; there was no sense of rivalry between them. Goodwill seldom flourishes between adversaries.

"I see... that's good," Dai replied cheerfully. One of the reasons he had chosen Villarreal was precisely the chance to play in European knockout football.

"No sense worrying about it. It's best to focus on my own preparation!" After the fitness drills, Dai grabbed a ball and began his own practice, working on long-range shots from outside the box.

His "Tiger Shot" skill was now close to perfection. Although Tsubasa Ozora in the system still withheld his highest praise, his other mentor, Kojiro Hyuga, was already astonished by Dai's progress.

With near-elite dribbling and shooting from distance, coupled with top speed and a razor-sharp instinct for goal, Dai was confident he would soon make his mark in La Liga.

"Isn't this kid supposed to be a dribbling maestro like Neymar? When did he turn into a long-range marksman like Batistuta?" Villarreal manager Marcelino watched in surprise as Dai unleashed powerful shots from outside the penalty area. His previous impression of Dai was based mostly on the Club World Cup match between Guangzhou Evergrande and Barcelona, where both of Dai's goals had come through dazzling solo runs—so Marcelino's surprise was understandable.

Nearby, one of Villarreal's first-team assistant coaches paused his work to watch Dai's shooting practice.

"His long-range technique is excellent, just look at his leg swing—textbook form, he must have trained this for ages," an assistant remarked from the sidelines.

"He's got tremendous power and accuracy—within our squad, I doubt anyone can match Dai at this," Marcelino commented to his coaching staff.

When Dai once again blasted a shot past Villarreal's starting goalkeeper, Alphonse Areola, from outside the area, the coaches all nodded in agreement. They were starting to realize that, at least based on training so far, Villarreal had struck gold with this signing.

Purely in terms of physical attributes, dribbling, and long-range shooting, how many young players like Dai on the current transfer market could be had for less than fifty million euros?

...

The Copa del Rey, whose full name is "The Spanish Champions—His Majesty the King's Cup Football Tournament," is often referred to simply as the King's Cup or the Spanish Cup. This annual knockout competition was established in 1902 after Carlos Padrós, who would later become president of Real Madrid, proposed a tournament to celebrate King Alfonso XIII's accession to the throne.

On the evening of Dai's first full day training with Villarreal, the team played Athletic Bilbao in the first leg of the Copa del Rey round of sixteen. Having only had a single session with his new teammates, Dai was of course not in the matchday squad.

Dai watched the entire match from his apartment. Playing away, Villarreal started brightly, dominating the early stages.

In the 15th minute, Samu García provided the assist for Baptistão to open the scoring—0:1. In the 37th minute, Castillejo set up Samu García, who doubled the lead—0:2. In the 54th, Beñat assisted Williams to pull one back for Bilbao—1:2. Thirteen minutes later, Raúl García's header was saved but Aduriz pounced on the rebound—2:2. In the 80th minute, Beñat delivered a free kick which Laporte converted with his left foot—3:2.

After surrendering the lead, Villarreal's players grew visibly anxious, and in the 86th minute, defender Mario was sent off, snuffing out any hope of a late equalizer.

In the end, Villarreal lost the first leg of the round of sixteen away to Bilbao by a score of 2-3.

Dai leaned back on the sofa, hands on his head. "The team may have lost, but the forwards looked sharp. Ah, Alejandro..."

...

Marcelino García Toral was a highly responsible coach. Since arriving at Villarreal, he hadn't won the Muñoz Trophy for La Liga's best manager as he had during his spells at Recreativo and Racing Santander, but his results and style were still exemplary. Last season, he had led Villarreal to sixth place in La Liga and secured Europa League qualification, more than justifying the club's faith in him.

Despite having just overseen a tough Copa del Rey match against Athletic Bilbao, Marcelino was back at the training ground early the next morning. Every good manager, health permitting, spends more time in the office than at home: whether it be Arsène Wenger at Arsenal, José Mourinho at Chelsea, Pep Guardiola at Bayern, or Zinedine Zidane at Real Madrid—they are all cut from the same cloth. Football managers truly give so much; they deserve understanding.

Having twice won the Muñoz Trophy, Marcelino might not be among the absolute elite, but he was certainly a renowned tactician. Whether at Recreativo or now at Villarreal, his position had always been secure, thanks to his masterful approach to tactics.

Upon entering the training ground, Marcelino noticed something unusual: the staff, usually somewhat lax, were today buzzing with energy and engaged in animated discussion.

"Did you hear? Old Leo at the gate was called in before seven to open up the facility—strange kid, that one..." said Erik, the groundskeeper, quietly to his colleagues.

"Yeah, I heard too. The kid's been practicing since before seven and is still going strong," replied Vanrich. It had been ages since any of them had seen a young talent show such dedication, turning up at daybreak.

"Diego used to be a prodigy too, but never this diligent, let alone those lazy guys," another worker added. Their conversation did not escape Marcelino, who happened to be passing by.

"Training before seven in the morning? That can't be..." Marcelino was genuinely puzzled. Were there still players in the modern professional game this devoted to extra training?

"I'll go see for myself," he thought. Skeptical but curious, he headed toward the pitch. As he drew near, the repeated thuds of footballs being struck echoed from within.

The sound only deepened his curiosity—who was this young man so dedicated to early-morning training?