Atlético Madrid, founded back in 1903, had always proudly positioned itself as the gritty, working-class alternative to the corporate glitz and glamour of Real Madrid.
On January 2, 2015, the Cerro del Espino Stadium—the modest home ground of Atlético Madrid B—opened its doors to welcome the official debuts of Michael Chen and Oriol.
The local fans were incredibly supportive.
Every single one of the 3,376 seats was packed to the rafters.
Compared to Santander’s El Sardinero, Atlético B’s ground was undeniably smaller.
But everyone in the organization knew that Michael was essentially being fast-tracked; he was fully expected to move up to Diego Simeone’s first team by next season.
Because of that, the club treated his unveiling and daily setup with serious weight.
In terms of treatment and facilities, he was handed the exact same standard as the senior squad.
As part of the presentation, Michael stepped into the net and casually performed a few acrobatic, flying saves for the cheering crowd.
After warming up his hands, he suddenly grabbed a ball and walked completely outside of the penalty area.
The fans exchanged confused glances, wondering what the hell their new goalkeeper was doing.
Meanwhile, Oriol had quietly slipped on a spare pair of goalkeeper gloves and jogged into the net.
Michael placed the ball, took a few steps back, and struck it hard.
The shot swerved aggressively toward the top-right corner!
Oriol threw his massive frame across the goalmouth with everything he had.
But just a fraction of a second before reaching his fingertips, the ball violently changed direction and dipped.
Goal!
“Whoa!”
The entire stadium erupted into applause and whistles.
This new goalkeeper actually had serious technique with his feet!
This was the specific free-kick delivery Michael had been grinding out in training recently, just in case he ever needed it in a match.
In other words, just in case he needed to show off.
Michael knew exactly what path he wanted to carve out for his career.
While maintaining an impenetrable, stable foundation on his goal line was the priority, he needed to add some stylish, eye-catching flair to his game.
He wanted to completely break the traditional, boring image of a goalkeeper and rapidly expand his global influence.
It was the exact same blueprint Manuel Neuer had used to dominate the World Cup the previous summer.
By aggressively expanding his defensive range and playing as a sweeper, Neuer had basically invented a brand-new style of goalkeeping and skyrocketed his own market value.
Michael fully intended to do the same.
…
After wrapping up his pitch presentation, Michael headed straight into the press room.
“Mr.
Chen, were you forced out by Santander’s management?” a reporter shouted over the noise.
“How do you feel about dropping back down to another B team?”
Michael leaned into the microphone, easily handling the media’s aggressive enthusiasm.
“I wasn’t forced to do anything.
I like the culture here, so I transferred.
Atlético is a club that genuinely belongs to its supporters, and I’m going to do my job to help this squad win matches as quickly as possible.”
Near the back of the room, a young, Chinese-looking student raised his hand and was handed a mic.
“Hello, Michael.
I’m an independent student-media reporter.
I’m actually livestreaming this press conference right now, and the question blowing up the chat the most is: why did you really choose to transfer to Atlético Madrid?”
Michael flashed a genuine smile at the camera.
“Levis is my guy, and so is Oriol.
Honestly?
I came here to play with my boys.
I want to fight for trophies alongside my friends.”
The live chat on the student’s stream completely exploded.
AtletiStan99: LMAO he literally transferred just for the vibes.
User_8921: Michael Chen playing with his boys!
😭💀
FootballJunkie: Chen, Levis, and the Oreo!
The holy trinity of the Segunda!
🔥
Before long, the fanbase had fully embraced the trio, turning their names into a massive running joke across the forums.
Michael’s popularity among football fans back in China was still heavily restricted by the FA’s ban, but the hardcore supporters refused to let it go.
After finding out he had officially joined Atlético Madrid, thousands of them started aggressively scouring the internet for illegal Segunda División streams just to watch him play.
…
The next morning, Michael and Oriol arrived at the training ground at eight-thirty sharp.
“Michael!
Oriol!
Long time no see, you bastards!
Hahahahaha!”
Diego Costa Jr.
let out a booming, infectious laugh as he jogged over.
Seeing his old rival again, Michael couldn’t help but grin.
“Last time we played, it felt like we left some unfinished business out there.
I really didn’t expect us to end up wearing the same badge.”
“Yeah, well, you probably don’t know this yet,” Costa laughed, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.
“But when Ruli found out management was actually buying you, he popped a bottle of champagne in the dressing room.
You scared the shit out of him with those saves!”
Costa’s loud laughter echoed across the training pitch, immediately breaking the ice.
Today, the entire squad was scheduled for a heavy internal practice match.
Before the scrimmage kicked off, Michael and Oriol stood on either side of Simeone Jr.
“Boys, these two should already be painfully familiar to all of you!” Simeone Jr.
shouted to the squad.
“Let’s welcome them to the team properly!”
After a quick round of applause and handshakes, the squad split up and the practice match began.
A Team:
Forwards: Costa, Ruli
Midfielders: Pacquiao, Kokosi, Herbert, Abraham
Defenders: Felipe, Rayleigh, Vincent, Bill
Goalkeeper: Luther
B Team:
Forwards: Felix, González
Midfielders: Couto, Klar, Robert, Arthur
Defenders: Rivas, Marco, Levis, Oriol
Goalkeeper: Michael Chen
…
Costa kicked off.
After a simple, fluid passing sequence, Ruli found a tiny pocket of space and immediately tried a desperate, looping shot from a ridiculous distance.
It posed zero threat.
Michael calmly caught it against his chest without even needing to jump.
Immediately looking up, Michael dropped the ball and struck it hard with his right foot, sending a laser-precise long pass flying straight into the path of forward Felix.
Felix took it in stride, linked up quickly with the midfield, and used a lofted pass to penetrate the edge of the box.
He took the shot.
The ball curled sharply around the defender, but with a loud smack, it crashed violently against the post and bounced clear.
In the A team goal, Luther broke out in a cold sweat.
His starting position was already under massive threat.
If he performed worse than the new signing during a simple Tuesday training session, the writing was permanently on the wall.
The A team regrouped and continued attacking.
Standing on the touchline, Simeone Jr.
quickly noticed something fascinating.
There was an incredibly dense triangular zone locked down in the B team’s defensive third.
Whenever an attacker carried the ball into the designated area controlled by Oriol and Levis, they were ruthlessly intercepted.
And even if someone somehow managed to slip through the cracks, Michael was always sweeping right behind them to clean up the mess.
Watching the chemistry between the three of them made Simeone Jr.
extremely excited.
In the 40th minute, the A team finally carved out an excellent chance.
Ruli used a burst of pace to break past Rivas, driving hard down the byline before cutting a dangerous cross back into the box.
The waist-high ball flew straight into the penalty area, and Pacquiao, arriving late from deep, hit it cleanly on the volley.
The shot was directly in front of the goal.
Reacting purely on instinct, Michael clenched both fists and punched the ball violently over his own crossbar.
There was no helping it, the strike had simply been too fast and too close to catch safely, so he chose the most efficient clearance.
Levis fought off two attackers for the resulting corner and headed the ball cleanly away.
The entire scrimmage basically devolved into an attack-versus-defense drill. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
The A team threw everything forward, while the B team absorbed the pressure and countered.
Michael remained just as infuriatingly stable as he had been the very first time they had faced him, keeping the net firmly shut.
Simeone Jr.
crossed his arms, sighing with deep admiration.
‘What a player,’ the manager thought.
…
After the grueling session ended, the players gathered around the benches to hydrate and stretch.
Ruli walked over to the coolers, muttering loudly to himself.
“Next training match, I’m forcing my way onto the B team!
Actually, forget that—wherever Michael goes, that’s the team I’m playing on.”
Sitting behind him, Luther quietly listened to the striker complain.
‘Great,’ Luther thought, staring at his gloves.
‘So what you’re saying is, I’m just shit compared to Chen.
Somehow I’m the only one getting hurt here!’
After analyzing the scrimmage in his head, Luther reluctantly realized it was the harsh truth.
He really wasn’t anywhere near as good as Michael.
And that realization just made him feel even worse.
Simeone Jr.
blew his whistle, calling the group in.
“In my opinion, the B team performed significantly better today!” Simeone Jr.
barked.
“The A team had every possible attacking advantage, yet you still failed to find the back of the net.
This is football.
This is a team sport, and individual talent means nothing if you can’t break down a structured block.
Now, listen up.
I’ll announce the squad list for the upcoming league match…”
Michael and Oriol were both officially included in the matchday squad.
Michael was named the starter.
As Michael listened to Simeone Jr.
break down the tactical profile of their next opponent, Leganés, he suddenly realized something funny.
Leganés.
That was the exact same club he had faced during his very first substitute appearance back at Santander.
‘Well, would you look at that,’ Michael thought, a wicked little smile creeping onto his face as he remembered their hot-headed striker, Hernández.
‘Time to give that guy another reality check.’
After the tactical meeting wrapped up, Simeone Jr.
headed inside to host the afternoon press conference.
Michael stayed behind in the dressing room, casually chatting with his new teammates and feeling out the locker room dynamics.
“Michael, you know the media and the rest of the league are officially calling you the ‘Striker Killer’ now, right?” Costa laughed, tossing his boots into his locker.
“You literally specialize in ruining forwards’ careers!”
“Yeah, man.
It was horrible playing against you,” Kokosi chimed in.
“We honestly thought you were just having the game of your life against us, but then you kept dropping clean sheets every single week.
And today you did the exact same thing to us in training.”
“No wonder the boss was so desperate to buy you after we lost,” Felipe added, shaking his head.
Hearing the easy praise, Luther swallowed his pride and spoke up from the corner of the room.
“Michael, your reflex times are seriously insane.
I respect it.
Can you give me some tips?”
Luther was a young, athletic keeper with French nationality, though his family originally came from a town quite close to Oriol’s in Ghana.
Seeing how genuinely friendly and open his new teammates were, Michael felt a little moved.
“No problem, man,” Michael answered modestly, walking over.
“My reaction time is just naturally a bit quicker, that’s all.
I’ve still got a lot of holes in my own game that I need to fix.”
Michael really liked the gritty, hardworking atmosphere at Atlético.
There were no massive egos, no toxic boardroom politics—everyone was just united and hungry to win.
He made up his mind to truly root his career here.
And that campaign would officially start tomorrow, by putting Leganés firmly in the dirt.