The next morning at 9 a.m., the sun shone brightly.
Qin Ming arrived on time at the VFL Center and saw a blond, baby-faced young man stepping off a car.
Immediately, Qin Ming thought of the famous Belgian comic The Adventures of Tintin by Hergé.
Not identical—but uncannily similar.
It was Kevin De Bruyne.
Since being cast off by Mourinho and transferring from Chelsea to Wolfsburg, the Belgian had played like a man transformed, lighting up the Bundesliga.
Of course, maybe it had something to do with his heartbreak—proving the saying: “No woman, no distraction, better football.”
Not only that, he had just played a crucial role in the 2014 Brazil World Cup.
In Belgium’s Round of 16 match against the U.S., De Bruyne scored once and assisted once in extra time, helping Belgium secure a tough win and become the team’s key player.
Though Belgium lost 1–2 to Argentina in the quarterfinals, the world had already taken notice of the blond youth.
And as a time traveler, Qin Ming knew better than anyone how strong De Bruyne would become.
Maybe joining Wolfsburg was the best possible decision.
Qin Ming muttered to himself, already thinking that if he passed the trial, he wouldn’t consider any other club—even if better ones came calling.
Soon, under staff guidance, he began with technical tests: passing, shooting, dribbling, ball control—basic fundamentals.
Naturally, he had no issues here—after all, his Ronaldinho template was already fused at 65%.
Next came physical tests: sprints, jumps, agility drills, lung capacity—measuring his athletic condition.
“Your physique is excellent,” the staff member said as he glanced at the data sheet, unable to hide his praise.
Even with a critical eye, Qin Ming’s physical stats were impressive—borderline elite.
“You can rest for half an hour.
We’ve got energy drinks and food.
Up next is the final phase: competitive training.”
“Thanks.” Qin Ming nodded, not holding back—those tests had drained him quite a bit, so it was time to refuel.
While waiting, he met the other trialists—not that he knew any of them.
But after brief conversations, he learned that some had played in Bundesliga 2, others in Borussia Dortmund’s reserve team—and all of them seemed solid.
Wolfsburg had momentum after a strong season and was aiming for top three this year.
So naturally, many players were hoping to join.
The club had already secured Arsenal striker Bendtner and reportedly made an offer for Shinji Kagawa of Manchester United.
It was simple: after star left winger Perišić got injured, they desperately needed a replacement.
“I heard they’ve already cut a bunch of people.
No one’s passed the trial so far.”
The speaker was Scott, a dark-skinned man from Bundesliga 2 team Darmstadt 98.
This is how pro clubs work—either promote youth talent or directly purchase players.
Making it into a professional team through trial alone is rare and incredibly difficult.
After some small talk, a strong, burly man approached, clapping his hands and saying firmly, “The trial match will be an 11-a-side game.
You’ll rotate in.”
He already knew full well—of the other three today, none would make it.
In truth, this Wolfsburg trial had a predetermined outcome.
No matter how Qin Ming performed, the result was already decided.
Why?
Because of the powerful Chinese backing behind him.
So when Qin Ming and the others reached the pitch, the match was already a few minutes in.
On the sideline stood a white-haired man in black-rimmed glasses.
He glanced over with little interest.
Dieter Hecking, 51 years old, knew that while football was a sport, it wasn’t free from commercial manipulation.
Qin Ming was one of those commercial maneuvers.
Even if Hecking hated being micromanaged, he had to accept that capital ruled the game.
In modern football, no money means no voice.
And this reality made him dislike Qin Ming even more.
After all, who likes a backdoor entry—unless it’s themselves?
“Wolfsburg looks strong on paper.”
Qin Ming watched the field closely.
When Team A’s defensive midfielder made a clean tackle, he quickly slid the ball diagonally to De Bruyne.
But De Bruyne seemed off—he was playing left wing, though he usually played centrally.
Due to Perišić’s injury, he was forced to fill in.
So his instinctive through ball couldn’t bypass the defender and was intercepted.
Immediately, Team B countered down the flank and delivered a cross from near the byline.
Inside the box, a bald powerhouse leapt and smashed a header.
Boom!
The ball exploded into the net, rippling the white mesh.
“Bas!
Great job!”
“You might be starting instead of coming off the bench this season!”
Team B cheered without restraint.
Meanwhile, Team A players just chuckled bitterly—no one blamed each other.
But De Bruyne kept his head down, clearly displeased with himself.
He was stubborn and had high expectations—otherwise, he wouldn’t have left Chelsea.
The team atmosphere seemed good… Qin Ming noted silently.
Beside him, Dieter Hecking frowned.
“That Chinese kid—you.
Yeah, you.
Go on, take over for No.
7.”
No.
7 was Caligiuri, Wolfsburg’s right winger.
“Oh, and you’ll play left wing.
Maximilian goes to the right, Kevin moves back to the middle.”
Hecking added.
Qin Ming nodded and took a deep breath—he was a bit nervous.
It was his first real match since arriving in this world.
That bastard Ten Hag hadn’t even let him use the cafeteria or training grounds.
No wonder people called him “Ten-High” behind his back.
Cursing Ten Hag helped calm his nerves.
As the frustrated Caligiuri walked off, Qin Ming quickly took his position and scanned the formation.
This was a rare chance—he had to seize it and make a good impression on the coach and his teammates.
That would open doors for his future.
But reality wasn’t so kind.
Despite his energy and eagerness, his teammates didn’t trust him.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
Since stepping on the field, he hadn’t touched the ball once.
Team A kept playing down the right, hoping to slice open Team B’s defense with quick passing.
But the results were underwhelming.
When De Bruyne received a pass, he glanced up and saw a lonely figure.
Once upon a time, he’d been that figure too—ignored, isolated, untrusted.
Maybe it was the ineffective right-side attacks.
Maybe it was empathy.
But suddenly, De Bruyne pushed forward and delivered a powerful through pass.
Pop!
The ball cut cleanly through the defense, landing on the empty left flank.
Only then did Qin Ming realize—not just his teammates, but even the opposition had ignored him.
His thoughts raced—but his feet never stopped.
With the outside of his right foot, he touched the ball repeatedly and burst into full speed!
(END CHAPTER)