In the northern part of Florence, less than two kilometers east of the Franchi Stadium, there's a low Tus-style building with red tiles and yellow walls, led near a three-way interse. It sprawls over an area almost as rge as half a football field. Its weathered exterior blends naturally with the surrounding residential area, giving it a timeless charm.

  However, the football fields surrounding the building on three sides make it stand out sharply from its otherwise unassuming surroundings.

  Locals know this as the beati of Italian football: the Covero training base.

  With Serie A on pause, the national team has revened here to prepare for their European qualifiers for the South Africa World Cup. As a result, the area has sprung back to life with the usual buzz.

  Reporters, fans, and tourists have desded en masse, making the northern part of Florence a hive of activity.

  For locals, this is nothing new. It happens every time the national team gathers. If anything, they're relieved that the U21 national team's training base is in Rome, otherwise, the otion would be even worse.

  Fn visitors unfamiliar with the area ofte lost, wandering in search of the training base's entrance. When they ask for dires, the nearby residents, filled with pride, are quick to correct them.

  "You've e to the wrong spot. This is the coag training base. That big building you see? That's the football museum. The national team training base is further north. You'll find the mairahere."

  "If you want to watch the national team, you won't be able to get in from here. Head north from the interse west of here, and take a small path. You'll pass a rge wn and some woods at the entrance. Across from that is a Catholic church—it's easy to spot."

  For the locals, this has bee a routine expnatioime the national team is in town.

  Oddly, though, today seemed a little different.

  While the national team tiheir training in preparation for matches against Bulgaria and Montenegro, the southern part of the training base was uedly crowded. Fners of all kinds appeared in rge numbers.

  Among them were two particurly spicuous figures—both t at nearly 1.9 meters. One of them, burly and scruffy with a face full of stubble, looked unmistakably German.

  Only Germans, the locals thought, could be so tall and sedly u.

  "You're on the wrong path," a local helpfully pointed out. "The national team training base is north of here. Take that interse aour around."

  "What? You're not here for the national team?"

  The resident was taken aback. These fners, struggling with Italian and broken English, had been presumed to be fans of the national team.

  "This is the coach training base and football museum not where the national team trains. Do you uand?"

  "Yes," replied the thinner of the two Germans, his reg hairline atuated uhe sunlight. He smiled and added in fluent English, "We're here for the coag training base."

  The local resident was fused. "Don't you have coag ters in Germany? Why e all the way to Italy?"

  The German only smiled without answering. After thanking the resident, he turo his panion and said something in German. The two then made their way toward the Football Museum's entrance.

  The exge left the Italian resident scratg his head.

  Strange. Why skip the national team's training to visit the museum? Were they really just football history enthusiasts?

  Soon, more people began arriving at Covero.

  There were Germans, Spaniards, Argentinians, Puese, English, Frend, of course, Italians—all speaking a cacophony of nguages. Yet they weren't heading for the national team's training session. Like the Germans, they were all verging on the Football Museum.

  This only deepehe locals' fusion.

  The national team was training nearby—why would anyone miss that in favor of visiting a museum?

  Having lived he training base for years, the residents sensed something unusual was brewing. But there had been no news or annous to expin it.

  ---

  Apanied by Zidane and Lucas, Gao Shen stepped out of the Florence Airport dressed in casual attire.

  They were immediately greeted by an escort, who ushered them into a car headi.

  "Are there a lot of people here today?" Lucas, seated in the front passenger seat, asked curiously.

  The escort, a senior executive from Covero, nodded enthusiastically. "A lot. Holy, we're worried about whether the auditorium even hold everyone."

  He smiled wryly as he spoke.

  "Is it really that bad?" Gao Shen sounded skeptical.

  "I'm not exaggerating," the executive assured him. "For starters, almost every trainee currently at Covero pns to attend, that's nearly a hundred people right there. On top of that, I've heard iional names like Lippi are ing to listen. And we've also got head coaches from across Italy showing up."

  "Then there's UEFA. We sent them a notice st week, and within days, we started getting requests from football associations across Europe. Everyone wanted seats for their representatives. I holy think the 300-seat lecture hall might be overrun."

  Hearing this, Gao Shen g Zidane, and the two exged a relieved smile.

  Gao Shen had been invited by the Italian Football Association to deliver keynote speeches several times before, but he'd always deed. This time, however, Ulivieri himself had extehe invitation on behalf of the Italian Coaches Association. The gesture had left Gao Shen with no choice but to accept.

  The opportunity was too valuable to pass up, not only as a means to build his reputation within the football unity but also as a ce to exge ideas with some of the brightest minds in the sport.

  Still, Gao Shen had been nervous about hoeople would actually show up, so he'd asked Zidane and Lucas to apany him. It's always easier to face potential embarrassment with friends by your side.

  Now, it seemed his fears were unwarranted.

  "By the way, are there many iional attendees?" Zidane asked.

  "Quite a few," the executive replied. "I saw the list earlier. We've got people ing from Germany, France, Spain, Pal, the hernds, Argentina, Brazil, and more. Most are flying in just for this."

  Gao Shen couldn't help but feel a swell of pride.

  Years ago, he had read about people traveling to Sd just to attend one of Ferguson's lectures. At the time, he had admired Ferguson as the pinnacle of football coag.

  Never did he imagihat he would one day receive such treatment himself.

  Still, doubt lingered. "Could these people just be pretending to show i?"

  "Not at all," the executive ughed. "It's hard to believe someone as fident as you would worry about that."

  Through the rearview mirrao Shen caught a glimpse of himself. With his youthful looks and sharp features, he could easily be mistaken for a pyer rather than a coach. And that, he thought, art of the problem.

  He was too young, too inexperienced or at least, that's how others often saw him. This public speech was the first of his career, and he khe audience would be filled with some of the sport's most promi figures.

  The pressure was immense.

  "The whole world knows how advanced your tactics are," the executive tinued. "From Real Madrid's double championship to Napoli's back-to-back titles as a newly promoted team, your abilities aren't iion. People want to hear what you have to say."

  Even Guardio had credited Gao Shen's influence, openly admitting that his own football philosophy bore traces of Gao Shen's tactics.

  "By the way," the driver added, "Mani will be there too."

  Gao Shen blinked in surprise. "Mani? Really?"

  That was ued. Mani was notoriously arrogant, and his disdain fao Shen was .

  "He's been taking time to refled improve retly," the executive expined.

  Gao Shen houghtfully.

  Inwardly, he felt grateful for the years he had spelessly studying football tactics. Without that foundation, he doubted he would have the fideo stand in front of such a distinguished audience.

  Time travel, he thought, might give you a head start, but knowledge is what truly matters.

  ---

  When they arrived at Covero, Gao Shen's group bypassed the national team base and headed straight for the Football Museum.

  A crowd of coaches had already gathered, eager to withe event. As Gao Shen's car approached, the onlookers began to buzz with excitement, speg about who might be inside.

  When Gao Shen stepped out, a wave of appuse broke out.

  The ued gesture left him momentarily stunned. He quickly recovered and began thanking those around him, though the warmth of the reception made him a little unfortable.

  Theiced a few familiar faces in the crowd, faces he hadn't expected to see, including the two t Germans from earlier.

  Especially the scruffy oh the stubble.

  Oh no, Gao Shen thought, his stomach sinking.

  Why is he here? And… him too?