Three days after Antonio finished writing his report.
May 23rd.
Following the Super Championship, today's fixture was a National League match.
That was the reason Antonio Soriano had come to Arena Paulo Stadium.
The first match was Santos FC versus Coritiba FC.
Eventually, the match kicked off.
Although the stands were filled mostly with family members, relatives, and reporters, the energy was remarkable.
All eyes were on a single player.
Neymar.
He was Antonio's top observation target of the day.
'It's already been a year.'
Antonio had been following Neymar since the U13 second division.
A scout must assess not just a player's skill, but also their development pace, strengths, and weaknesses in detail.
Since some players show significant inconsistency depending on their condition, it was essential to watch as many matches as possible for an accurate evaluation.
In that regard, Neymar left little to be desired.
'He's consistently good, with almost no slumps.'
He did show a bit of weakness against stronger teams, but overall, he performed well.
Despite being only thirteen years old, age didn't seem to matter for Neymar.
Exceptional agility, dazzling footwork, delicate ball control, explosive pace.
He embodied the blend of Brazilian flair and technical elegance.
Watching him felt like seeing a young Lionel Messi, who was currently making waves at Barcelona.
Antonio pulled out his notebook and began taking detailed notes on the match.
At a glance, it might have looked like a list of praises, but that didn't mean Neymar was flawless.
'His stamina is still lacking.'
However, Neymar's technical ability was more than enough to compensate for that.
He delivered a dominant performance throughout the game, scoring multiple goals and leading Santos FC to victory.
'3-1 win for Santos… They're looking like strong favorites for the title this year.'
The match ended.
But Antonio didn't leave his seat.
Youth tournaments often featured multiple matches in one day.
Today, three matches were scheduled at São Paulo Municipal Stadium, and the one he was waiting for wouldn't begin until 4:20 PM.
São Paulo FC versus Bahia.
There were four players he intended to observe.
'Casemiro, Douglas, Oscar…'
And Ho-young.
He was especially curious to see if Ho-young could deliver a performance like he did last time.
'If he turns out to be inconsistent, I'll hold off and watch him a bit longer.'
But there was no need for that.
From the start of the match, Ho-young's performance was dazzling, enough to leave Antonio speechless.
Ho-young was deployed as a second striker, supported by Oscar, and his standout qualities were his dribbling and his ability to control the game from midfield.
'How many positions can this kid cover? He's playing just as well as he did against Fluminense.'
Versatile.
That was the only word that came to mind.
'His fundamentals are solid, and he has explosive tools of his own.'
Ho-young met all three key qualities required of a promising talent.
Innate ability.
Technical quality.
And physical potential. There wasn't a single area he was lacking.
'We'd need medical tests to be sure, but his muscles look well-developed too.'
At this rate, he looked capable of developing a physique strong enough for professional football.
"An incredible one's shown up from Asia."
Antonio was so immersed in Ho-young's play that he lost track of time.
Though it was slightly disappointing that Ho-young was substituted around the 60th minute to conserve energy, it made sense.
'Probably to save him for the second leg against Fluminense in the Super Championship.'
Regardless, São Paulo FC secured a 3-0 victory, led by Ho-young's opening goal.
He may have scored one fewer goal than Neymar, but in terms of impact, they were on par.
'Nine successful dribbles and three shots on target…'
His finishing still needed work, but the rest of his stats were outstanding.
Ssshh.
Captivated by Ho-young's play, Antonio licked his lips as he exited the stadium.
He couldn't wait to meet the boy.
"See you tomorrow."
That evening.
After returning to Barra Funda on the team bus, Ho-young said goodbye to his teammates and headed home.
He felt like he could fall asleep any second, but he took time to reflect on the match against Bahia.
The teamwork had been solid, and the prepared combination plays had been executed well.
The only downside was his finishing.
Had he been more clinical, he could have scored at least one more.
'I'll need to get that finishing ability from Pato later. The season's still long.'
The day had been short, but there was plenty of time ahead.
The world was full of talents.
There was no need to rush.
And just as he reached home, a man approached, snapping Ho-young out of his thoughts.
"Hello?"
He turned his head to see a middle-aged man stepping out of a car.
"Who are you?"
The man handed him a business card with a polite smile.
Printed in bold was the name Antonio Soriano.
Ho-young looked a bit lower on the card.
There it was.
[Ojeador: Talent Scout]
And beneath that...
"Real Madrid?"
Real Madrid CF.
A prestigious club from Spain, clearly stated on the card.
The man spoke.
"Do you have a moment?"
Thanks to Choi Maria's hospitality, they were able to talk quietly inside the house.
The reason Antonio had wanted to meet Ho-young that very day was obvious.
"You want to get to know me?!"
"Haha. Surprised?"
'Of course I'm surprised. Who wouldn't be?'
No matter how calm a person might be, anyone would be shocked in this situation.
It was normal for scouts to approach players who stood out, but he never expected it to happen this quickly.
Especially not from a club like Real Madrid.
No further explanation was needed.
"But there's no need to feel pressured. Just know that Real Madrid sees great potential in you."
'So they want to establish a connection now.'
If he continued to develop well, they would make a formal offer later.
A textbook scouting strategy.
Antonio continued.
"Let's talk again sometime. I'll be rooting for you."
Smile.
Ho-young responded with a light laugh.
That night.
Lying in bed, Ho-young found himself deep in thought.
It was because of Antonio's proposal earlier in the evening.
If all went well, he might transfer teams as early as next year. And Spain seemed the most attractive option.
Both in terms of language and talent acquisition.
The biggest dilemma was which team to join.
There were two main options.
Real Madrid, with the likes of Zidane, Ronaldo, Robinho, Carlos, Beckham, Figo, Guti, and Raúl.
Or Barcelona, with Xavi, Eto'o, Deco, Ronaldinho, Iniesta, and Messi.
He hadn't received an offer from Barcelona yet, but it was certainly a possibility.
"Whew."
It felt like a new chapter in life was approaching fast.
He couldn't see what lay ahead, but he wasn't afraid.
As always, he would build it step by step.
Starting with what was right in front of him.
'Kaká's talent.'
He looked forward to the away match against Fluminense FC next week.
Four days later.
After a five-hour journey, they arrived at Youth do Maracanã Stadium in the state of Rio de Janeiro.
São Paulo FC held their final preparations in the away team's locker room.
They had won the first leg 2-0, but the game wasn't over yet.
Naturally, Fluminense's counterattack would be fierce.
But São Paulo FC hadn't been idle either.
They had preserved their players' stamina during the national league match in preparation for this.
Coach Carlos spoke in his signature solemn tone.
"If we win, it's smooth sailing all the way to the final."
An obvious statement, but one that fired up the players' competitive spirit better than anything.
"There are three ways we advance to the quarterfinals."
Win, draw, or lose by a one-goal margin.
Though it had been a long journey and the players showed signs of fatigue, São Paulo still held the advantage.
As long as they didn't get dominated, they would go through comfortably.
""The King's, Glory, On the Pitch!""
When the time came, the players shouted their team chant and ran onto the field.
Then came the customary pre-match handshakes.
Grab!
One boy suddenly grabbed Ho-young's hand tightly.
'This guy again?'
Marcelo.
Clearly determined, his eyes were lowered, and he clenched Ho-young's hand with force.
It was a childish, psychological mind game.
But Ho-young wasn't one to just accept it passively.
He was three years younger, but his strength was comparable.
Clench.
A tense energy surged between them.
This was a match Ho-young absolutely could not lose.
It was a chance to acquire Kaká's talent, advance to the quarterfinals of the Super Championship, and even claim one of Marcelo's talents.
[Marcelo]
[Possessed Talents: Football Genius (A), Active Overlapping (A-), Excellent Ball Control (B+2), Smooth Dribbling (B), Sharp Crossing (B), Decent Ball Interception (C+3), Organized Combination Play (C+2), Rhythmic Flexibility (C+2), Clean Marseille Turn (C+)]
(You can obtain one talent by meeting the required conditions.)
(Condition 1: Play football together for at least 60 minutes.)
(Condition 2: Record 1 attacking point.)
(Condition 3: Block a dribble attempt.)
Since he had already obtained [Football Genius (A)] last time, the difficulty of the conditions had significantly decreased.
'This time, I'll go for Ball Control.'
But before that, he needed to stay focused.
'They'll likely build their offense around Marcelo.'
There was a high chance Marcelo would play at full-back or wing-back, orchestrating attacks and defensive transitions.
But that assumption turned out to be wrong.
"!"
Marcelo, who should have been playing deeper, had pushed up to the second line of midfield.
'Right winger?'
Fluminense FC had prepared a flat 4-4-2 formation.
Two defensive midfielders, two wingers, and two strikers.
It was a clear attempt to bombard the flanks.
But São Paulo FC remained composed.
This was within the range of scenarios they had prepared for in training.
'Reinforcing the wings means their midfield will be vulnerable.'
It was clearly a tactic aimed at breaking through São Paulo FC's compact midfield style.
Ho-young shouted.
"Oscar! Drop back!"
It was a prearranged switch to a 4-3-3 formation, ordered by Carlos for such situations.
If the opponent was targeting the flanks, then they would dominate the midfield to cut off the supply to the wings entirely.
The game seemed to be going smoothly.
At least until the 7th minute.
"Tch."
By the 8th minute, Ho-young felt a chill run down his spine.
This Fluminense FC was not the same as before.
They were fresh, full of energy, as expected of a home team, and used the width of the pitch to its fullest.
Intense battles for the ball erupted everywhere, with players charging in like mortal enemies on a narrow bridge.
São Paulo's strategy to control the midfield with a numerical advantage wasn't working as planned.
That led to a problem with Oscar.
"Damn it! Let go!"
Oscar was tangled up in a fierce contest with a defensive midfielder who had pushed up into midfield.
"Oscar! Pass it sideways!"
Ho-young shouted, but Oscar couldn't shake off the aggressive press.
Their arms got tangled, and both players fell to the ground.
The problem came right after.
Crack!
"Aaaargh!"
While falling, Oscar accidentally stepped on the opponent's thigh.
It was clearly a mistake.
But whether it was intentional or not, the decision was up to the referee.
Tweet—
The referee blew the whistle and hurried over, reaching into his pocket.
It looked like he was going to issue a card.
'No avoiding a yellow for this one.'
Home field advantage or not, Oscar would likely receive a yellow.
But then.
"What?"
The card the referee pulled out was not yellow, but red.
(To be continued.)