The transition was swift. As the clock struck five, the younger trainees, including a twelve-year-old Takefusa Kubo were ushered to the sidelines to observe. Only the U-19 Juvenil A squad remained on the pitch, divided into two groups: the "Established Starters" in red bibs and the "Challengers" in blue.
Outside the fence, the atmosphere was buzzing. The word had spread that Patrick Kluivert and Eusebio Sacristán were in attendance, turning a standard scrimmage into a high-stakes audition.
Among the crowd, Lucia stood near the halfway line, her hair pulled back into a practical ponytail. She wasn't just watching; she was working. She held her phone steady, its cara fixed on Lorenzo as he went through his final explosive sprints.
"Are you live-streaming this, Lucia?" a classmate from her international school asked, leaning over. "Is that the new sports app everyone's talking about?"
"It's a global football community platform," Lucia replied, her eyes never leaving the screen. "I'm streaming this to the Argentinian fan groups and the Barcelona youth forums. They need to see the truth."
Lucia had spent the last few hours fighting a losing battle on social dia. Every ti she uploaded the video of Facundo's malicious tackle at Ezeiza, it was flagged for "copyright" or "policy violations", likely the work of Marcos's PR team in Buenos Aires. The "thug" narrative was being pushed hard, and the Argentinian public was swallowing it whole.
But a live stream was harder to suppress. Under the title The Truth of Ezeiza: Lorenzo's Trial at La Masia, she had already attracted thousands of viewers. The comnt section was a battlefield.
[This is the kid who hit the Coordinator? He looks like a pro, but a thug is a thug.]
[Look at the intensity in his eyes. He doesn't look like he's here to play; he looks like he's here to take over.]
[La Masia wouldn't keep him if he was a criminal. Maybe the AFA is lying again?]
[Wait, is that Kluivert on the sidelines? Why is a legend watching a 'thug'?]
[If he's good enough for Sacristán, he's good enough for . Let's see if he can actually score.]
Lucia ignored the insults. She knew that in football, performance was the only true rebuttal. If Lorenzo dominated today, the "unprofessional" label the AFA had slapped on him would look like the desperate lie it was.
On the pitch, Lorenzo took a deep breath, the evening diterranean breeze cooling the sweat on his brow. Across from him, Munir El Haddadi was adjusting his captain's armband for the red team. Munir looked at Lorenzo with a mix of professional respect and wary competition. He knew that for all the scandal following Lorenzo from South Arica, the boy was a lethal finisher.
Just as the referee stepped into the center circle, a familiar chanical chi resonated in Lorenzo's mind.
[Ding! Side Quest Triggered: Showing Your Edge!]
[Objective: Stand out in the trial match and secure your selection for the Barcelona B roster against Real Madrid Castilla.]
[Quest Requirents: Maintain a Match Rating above 9.0. Score at least two goals.]
[Quest Reward: Gold Treasure Chest * 1, Silver Treasure Chest * 1, Bronze Treasure Chest * 1!]
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed. A Gold Chest. That ant a chance at a legendary player template or a high-tier attribute boost. After seeing how much the "King of the Penalty Area" skill had shifted his confidence, he knew he couldn't afford to let this opportunity pass.
The reward was massive, but so was the challenge. He wasn't playing against academy kids anymore; he was playing against the best youth talent in the world, under the eyes of a man who had been one of the greatest strikers in history.
Sacristán stood on the sidelines, his arms crossed over his chest. "Let's see if the Argentinian can back up that temper with his feet," he muttered to Kluivert.
Kluivert didn't answer imdiately. He was watching the way Lorenzo moved off the ball even before the whistle blew, the way he subtly adjusted his positioning to stay in the shadow of the center-back. "He doesn't move like a seventeen-year-old," Kluivert finally noted. "He moves like soone who's already seen the end of the play."
Fweet-!
The whistle shrieked, and the match began.
Lorenzo's blue team started with the ball. As the play developed through the midfield, Lorenzo didn't sprint forward imdiately. He drifted wide, pulling the red team's center-back out of position, his eyes locked on the space behind the defensive line.
The "King of the Penalty Area" skill was prid.
Twenty goals in a season? Lorenzo thought as he pivoted into a sprint. I'll start with three tonight.
The digital world was watching, the legends were judging, and the "problem child" of Argentina was about to show Barcelona exactly why he was worth the trouble.
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