“Did I just see that?!”
“Ethan…
how did he…”
“Didn’t they say even Rui Costa only hit twenty-two out of thirty?”
“This kid’s short passing…
is it actually better than Rui Costa’s?!”
The passing ability that had made Rui Costa a legend was something no one in the squad dared to measure themselves against.
No one could believe Ethan Cross had shattered the record set by that very legend.
Captain Pasqual didn’t answer his teammates.
He still hadn’t recovered from the shock.
When he’d joined Fiorentina, Rui Costa had already been gone nearly five years.
He’d always regretted never witnessing the legend’s passing record in person.
And now a sixteen-year-old kid had broken it right in front of him.
Every Fiorentina player stared at Ethan like he was some kind of monster.
Only now did it sink in.
When Ethan kept asking to raise the difficulty, he wasn’t arrogant.
He had the skill to back it up.
Ethan wasn’t too cocky.
They were just too ignorant.
Standing among them was a passing genius the world rarely sees.
Daniele Pradè, as sharp a sporting director as any in Serie A, was just as stunned by what Ethan had just shown.
“When I was negotiating this kid’s loan, Liverpool’s sporting director Edwards mentioned his passing was quite good…”
“I thought it was just polite nonsense.
I never imagined…”
Before Pradè could finish, Montella turned to him with a complicated look.
“Quite good”?
That was absurd.
It was beyond absurd.
Montella stared at the display.
Thirty attempts, twenty-nine completed.
A new record.
He wasn’t dreaming.
His grin spread wide and unrestrained.
In recent years, technical, possession-based football had reshaped Europe.
Montella had absorbed all of it when he moved into coaching.
As a player, he’d been a clinical striker with excellent feet and real passing quality.
A true nine-and-a-half.
That background forged his obsession with possession and short-passing penetration.
It was why he’d turned Fiorentina into the most entertaining attacking side in Serie A.
For a club without a true superstar, ranking in the league’s top three for possession and short passes per game was already an achievement.
But the problem was just as sharp.
They had the ball.
They passed it often.
But the players who could deliver a killer final ball were painfully scarce.
Borja Valero had filled that role.
But even Valero was, at best, a second-tier attacking midfielder in Serie A.
On the European stage, he didn’t even register.
In Montella’s system, he was merely adequate as the creative hub.
And now Valero was out for the season with a serious injury.
No one could carry the attacking burden in midfield.
The stress had put gray in Montella’s hair.
But Ethan’s outrageous short-passing display had jolted him awake.
A passing prodigy like this?
This was the player he’d been dreaming of.
Ethan’s arrival was a fire that reignited Montella’s cold, fading hope.
“Ethan!
Incredible!
Absolutely incredible!”
“I had no idea your passing was this exceptional!”
“I knew a young player Liverpool had their eye on couldn’t be ordinary!”
“For Fiorentina to land a talent like you on loan is real luck for this club.”
“I believe you’ll do great things here.”
Montella’s smile was so bright it could have burned off the chill of an Italian winter.
Pradè just stared at him, speechless.
Bro…
that is not what you were saying in my office ten minutes ago.
The man could switch faces at warp speed.
Ethan was already surrounded by his teammates.
“Ethan!
Your passing is unreal!”
“My god, did someone bless your right foot?” You are reading on g.com, the official source.
“Is this what real talent looks like?
My passing is garbage next to yours.”
Captain Pasqual, veteran Joaquín, Pizarro.
All of them were genuinely thrilled.
They hadn’t expected the new kid to possess this kind of passing gift.
This was going to be a massive boost for Fiorentina.
“Alright, alright.
Enough talking.
We still have a practice match to play.
Gather up and get into groups.
We’re starting now.”
Montella was impatient.
He needed to see how Ethan’s passing talent translated into a real game.
The training drill had been extraordinary.
But drills and matches were different things.
If Ethan could deliver the same quality under real pressure, then Montella could truly relax.
The standard setup was simple.
Starters versus reserves.
As newly arrived loan players, Ethan and Salah were both placed with the reserves.
“Ethan, feed me the ball, okay?”
Ethan’s passing display had already won Salah over completely.
As a winger, getting service from midfield to break down the flank was everything.
Salah’s expectations were sky-high.
What he didn’t know yet was that in the match ahead, Ethan’s impact would blow past anything he could imagine.
The starters seized control immediately, launching wave after wave of attacks at the reserves.
For a club like Fiorentina, the gap between them and the true giants was squad depth.
The starting eleven could go toe-to-toe with anyone.
The bench was a different story.
That talent gap let the starters grab the initiative with ease.
For the opening stretch, defending was the reserves’ entire reality.
The starters grew comfortable, assuming they’d dominate like always.
Then the reserves weathered the storm, won the ball, and began to counter.
And everyone realized something had changed.
With Ethan in the side, the reserve team’s attack had transformed without anyone noticing.