After ndes finished his first private eting with Florentino Pérez, he didn't leak a word about Leon possibly leaving Real Madrid.
Negotiations were still ongoing, and for now, both parties were acting as though things were proceeding normally. Leon remained in Madrid, waiting for Florentino's final answer.
From both a rational and emotional perspective, Leon had never considered leaving Madrid as his first choice.
He had already proven himself here. This Real Madrid was tailor-made for him—a team perfectly suited for his developnt and hungry for even greater glory.
All Leon wanted was simple: a commitnt.
His bottom line? Two seasons. If, in that ti, he proved himself worthy of the Ballon d'Or, then Real Madrid would have to invest every available resource into helping him reach the top of world football.
Had it been any other player making such demands, Pérez would've scoffed, dismissing them without a second thought.
"You don't have the right to bargain with Real Madrid."
But this ti, it was Leon making the request.
Leon was willing to share China's booming market with Madrid, but in return, he needed the club to firmly choose him as their "future."
Pérez, who had spent years forcing others to pick sides, was now being cornered himself.
And while waiting for his inner circle's analysis comparing the future of Leon and Ronaldo, Pérez couldn't help but recall every detail of that eting.
He should've been angry at so of Leon's more direct demands. But the truth was, he couldn't be.
He found himself liking Leon's confidence. His transparency. His hunger for greatness.
Still, the internal reports delivered to Pérez forced him into deep hesitation.
On paper, Ronaldo had always been a complicated figure for him.
Pérez loved his market appeal and star power, but hated his arrogance and endless demands.
But after the past two seasons?
Even Pérez had to admit it.
Cristiano Ronaldo was Real Madrid's most recognizable figure. In Mourinho's system, he had beco football's undisputed number one.
One report was blunt:
"Cristiano Ronaldo will go down as one of football's top five all-ti greats. Based on his physique and discipline, he could maintain peak performance for another five years."
Another read:
"Leon is undoubtedly the most popular and promising central midfielder born in the 1990s. But his brilliance lies in defense—and that could limit his evolution into a true global gastar."
Both reports now sat plainly on Pérez's desk.
And he understood the biggest hurdle in Leon's rise wasn't skill—it was popularity.
In China, sure, Leon would surpass Ronaldo's fa in a few more years.
But on the global stage? Not yet.
Position matters.
Leon had just completed a transformation from defensive mid to a B2B dynamo. How could he compete, popularity-wise, with a striker who scored 50 goals per season?
And would Leon definitely grow into a Ballon d'Or-level midfielder?
Pérez was a businessman.
He couldn't risk everything on a promise.
He had to think in trends. In probabilities.
And deep down, his instincts already leaned toward Cristiano, even if he didn't always like him.
Ronaldo was unmatched—a global phenonon, a walking scoring machine, a brand all on his own.
Still, Pérez didn't want to give up China's market, either.
His solution? Have it all.
Madrid's recent dominance had given him the confidence to try.
He believed Leon was just being emotional—short-sighted, perhaps. Once ndes cald him down, the storm would pass.
Would a 22-year-old really walk away from being the future captain of Real Madrid?
Would he throw away global popularity and the love of Madridistas?
Pérez decided to give Leon so ti.
He even called ndes personally, asking him to talk sense into the kid.
But at that mont, ndes was already pacing uneasily beside Leon—who had just started his offseason training early.
Of course, ndes agreed to Pérez's request.
But Leon's unwavering attitude? That's what made ndes realize this wasn't going to be easy.
To Leon, the situation was crystal clear.
Pérez had ghosted him for three days. Then ndes tried to diate again.
That was enough for Leon to know exactly where he stood.
He could accept it calmly—but he wasn't at peace.
So instead of brooding, he got to work.
Training would clear his mind.
Last season, Leon had racked up an enormous haul of system points—1,800 just from major trophies.
(Only 100 points ca from the UEFA Super Cup, Spanish Super Cup, and Club World Cup.)
If not for that, he'd have crossed the 2,000 mark.
Add to that his match wins, goals, and assists—1,200 points more.
He had completely drained his point balance last sumr to draw talent cards.
Now?
He had 3,000 points to spend.
With a clearer understanding of his current weaknesses—naly in scoring—he knew exactly what to do.
He used a gold-level talent shard to enhance speed.He used a diamond-level shard to upgrade his vision.Finally, he activated another gold-level shard to enhance finishing.
Originally, he had planned to save shooting for last.
But the world had changed, and so had his plans.
All three purchases cost him 2,000 points.
Locking in the stats cost another 600.
Now he had only 400 points left.
Even though Madrid had won both La Liga and the Champions League again, there were no "first-ti major championship" bonuses this year.
Still, the UEFA Super Cup and Club World Cup gave him two silver-level first-win packs.
Not much, but better than nothing.
From those packs, he received:
A silver talent shard cardA silver "familiar face" item:
A 10-use stamina recovery potion (no ti limit)
Clearly, the system was egging him on to grind harder.
As for that silver shard?
He spent 200 points to lock the stat and rolled a crossing talent card.
Ashley Young (2010–11 Season) — Crossing Talent: 87/100
Current stat: 69
Leon shivered when he saw the na.
But when he confird it was Aston Villa Ashley Young, not the infamous late-Manchester United version, he relaxed.
His other three stats?
Vision: Rui Costa (2002–03) – 97/100
Current: 83
"Constant scanning and precise layout, command the flow of the match."
And the journey was just beginning.
After drawing a golden talent fragnt of Thierry Henry's 2008–09 season speed (talent rating: 93) and Kevin Phillips' 1999–00 finishing (talent rating: 93), Leon threw himself fully into sumr training.
Speed, dribbling, close control, short passing, and shooting — these were his core focus areas for the offseason.
Long passing still required daily accumulation, and defensive fundantals like tackling, sliding, stamina, and physical strength were still on the list to maintain.
Planning was easy. Execution? Brutal.
So brutal, in fact, that even ndes — who joined Leon for the first three days — couldn't watch any longer and flew off to China to handle Leon's sumr comrcial activities.
The professional coaching team ndes had assembled to oversee Leon's Madrid camp was stunned by his training volu.
For safety, they forced Leon to undergo a full check-up at a local hospital every three days.
Leon was constantly on the edge — physically exhausted, ntally drained.
Even with stamina potions from the system, the pressure of simultaneous multi-skill training was nearly overwhelming.
So abilities improved quickly. Others... painfully slow.
Leon felt frustrated. Anxious. Falling behind his own targets.
And just as always, when it mattered most, he turned to Pintus.
The legendary fitness coach, on vacation in Italy, didn't hesitate — the next day, he flew back to Madrid.
He broke down Leon's training into staged goals, refined the structure, and even rewrote his entire al plan.
He dragged Leon out to walk the outskirts of Madrid every evening. To clear his mind. To talk.
"Do your job well," he told Leon. "You don't have to prove to anyone that you're good enough."
Those words brought Leon's focus back. His eyes cleared.
Half a month later, Leon said goodbye to the coaching staff who had trained him through June.
He hadn't hit every benchmark. The goals were too ambitious.
But he was calm now.
He had made progress. He was still improving. And that was enough.
July arrived. Leon returned to China to unwind and take part in his sumr comrcial tour.
Having now completed a full club-level Grand Slam with Madrid, Leon's popularity in China was nothing short of explosive.
His clean reputation and scandal-free personal life made the big-na dostic sponsors who had signed lucrative deals with him very happy.
By the ti his tour took him from Guangzhou to Beijing, ndes's team was already drowning in requests:
Long-term brand partnerships. Increased contract values. Extensions before current deals even expired.
A comrcial empire was beginning to take shape before their eyes.
And ndes?
For the first ti in weeks, he stopped worrying about Leon's standoff with Florentino.
Throughout early July, his smile was genuine and unbroken.
Money rolled into Leon's accounts in waves. Every team around him — in China and abroad — was motivated and united.
Plans were even underway to launch Leon's own dostic sportswear brand in August.
And then it happened.
Disaster in Madrid.
Marca broke a bombshell report — an exposé detailing two seasons of dressing room turmoil, with Iker Casillas and Ramos reportedly at odds with Mourinho's managent style.
Had it co from a random journalist, Europe's dia might've ignored it.
But this article was written by Casillas's girlfriend.
The Madrid fanbase was stunned.
Barely a month had passed since they'd won the Champions League — and now this?
Even a mid-table La Liga team wouldn't tolerate such internal sabotage. Let alone Madrid.
As the girlfriend kept leaking more "inside info" to Marca, Mourinho — furious — confronted Casillas directly.
Truthfully, if not for Leon repeatedly smoothing things over the last two years, Mourinho might've already had this conversation.
All those so-called reconciliations?
Paper-thin.
Now, in the face of betrayal, Mourinho tore away the last of the illusion.
Casillas knew he was wrong, that he'd let his coach and teammates down — but he refused to bow his head.
Then Ramos sided with Casillas, and things escalated quickly.
Soon it was so serious that Pérez himself had to step in.
By this point, Leon had returned to Madrid, but he stayed completely silent.
He didn't speak to Casillas.
He didn't go to Mourinho.
Perhaps, the mont Casillas's girlfriend beca the team's loudest clown, Leon had lost any will to get involved.
He had ndes collect transfer info quietly.
But sotis, the more you try to avoid sothing, the faster it cos to you.
Just two days after Leon politely rejected Madrid's latest contract offer again — the rumors started.
"Leon wants to leave Madrid."
He frowned and imdiately called ndes.
ndes was just as confused.
"I haven't spoken to any club," he said. "My guys handle intel gathering, sure, but there's no leak. We've been airtight."
anwhile, in the Madrid front office, Pérez glared at Sánchez.
"You thought this was a warning?" he snapped. "You thought leaking this would push Leon away from other teams?"
Sánchez stayed silent.
Pérez's temple throbbed.
"Idiotic," he muttered—but couldn't say it aloud.
And before he could even call ndes to control the damage…
Barcelona's offer arrived. Officially.
"Sixty million?! You've got to be kidding ! Is Rosell serious?!"
Pérez nearly exploded.
Before he could order a formal rejection, Arsenal ca in next—£45 million.
Then Bayern Munich matched Barça with €60 million.
Sánchez, who had previously acted like everything was under control, now sat stunned.
His "harmless leak"?
It had sparked a bidding frenzy.
This was officially out of control.
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