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Chapter 15 - Chapter 15 — "He’s Even Sharper Than Before!"

The next day.

At the Argentina National Training Base on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, a matte-black Maserati rolled to a stop. Raiola stepped out first and opened the door for Romeo Teixeira.

Romeo wasn't heading straight to the pitch just yet. Since it was his first official national team call-up, a few formalities still had to be completed — paperwork, medical clearance, and roster registration.

Normally, those details would be handled behind the scenes, but Raiola insisted on managing everything personally.

"I told you, it's my job," he said, flashing his signature grin. "I don't leave things to chance."

Romeo could only shrug and go along with it.

After lunch, Raiola dropped Romeo off at the medical wing, where Aimar was already waiting.

"Everything looks great," Aimar said after reviewing Romeo's physical report. "Now let's see how you are with a ball at your feet."

Together, they walked over to the training pitch.

---

On the field, an intra-squad scrimmage was already in full swing.

Carlos Carloni, now the youngest head coach in Argentina's history, stood on the touchline, arms crossed and frowning.

Higuaín had just missed his second one-on-one of the day — the finishing was sluggish, almost uninterested. Worse, the midfield looked completely fractured. Banega and Augusto were out of sync, slow in transition, and rarely offering an option for the attack.

Messi and Di María were constantly forced to drop deep to collect the ball, losing their edge in the final third.

It was a frustrating display.

"Romeo's here," Aimar said, approaching Carlos with the medical report in hand. "All cleared."

Carlos exhaled in relief, then turned toward the new arrival.

"Coach."

"Romeo."

At that exact moment, Banega lost the ball under high press, and the red team converted it into a goal, leaving the yellow team trailing.

Carlos raised his hand. "Pause!"

Everyone stopped as he called the teams to the sideline.

"Everyone, this is our new teammate — Romeo Teixeira."

Romeo stepped forward confidently. "Hey everyone. I'm Romeo. Midfielder. Grew up at La Masia, currently playing for Atlético Barcelona. You can call me Romeo."

A few players broke into grins.

Aguero clapped. "I've seen your videos. That vision, man… damn good. Welcome aboard, little magician."

"Since yesterday," Di María chimed in, "Leo hasn't shut up about you. That's a first."

"Appreciate it," Romeo nodded, humble but unshaken.

Carlos glanced down his lineup sheet. "Romeo, take Banega's spot. Pastore, you're in for Augusto."

Banega's face immediately stiffened. Augusto's eyebrows furrowed.

"Coach, put me on the red team instead," Banega barked. "I want to go head-to-head."

"Me too," Augusto added.

Carlos nodded. "Sure."

He understood the challenge — neither of them liked being benched for two upstarts, and they wanted to prove they were better.

Carlos didn't mind. Controlled competition made teams better.

"Just play your game," Messi whispered to Romeo as the teams returned to the field. "Don't worry about showing off. You belong here."

"Yeah," Aguero added with a slap on the back. "Just ball like you always do."

Even Di María and Mascherano gave supportive nods.

Romeo gave them a smile, though three invisible anime sweat drops basically formed on his forehead.

Which one of you thinks I'm nervous?

---

The game resumed.

The yellow team, now with Romeo, Messi, and Di María in midfield, restarted play from the back.

Goalkeeper Romero passed short to Otamendi, who quickly shifted it to Mascherano.

The veteran defensive mid glanced up and spotted Romeo signaling for the ball.

Without hesitation, he zipped a grounded pass straight into his feet.

On the sideline, Carloni narrowed his eyes. "Banega's charging straight at him."

"Not surprising," Aimar chuckled. "Guy's ego's been bruised."

"I'm just curious how our young maestro handles it."

---

Romeo controlled the ball on his chest and let it drop smoothly to his feet.

Banega closed in fast.

"Let me teach you what it means to be a starter here," Banega sneered, lunging in.

But Romeo barely flinched.

With a roll of his right foot, he swept the ball backward and out of reach. Banega tried to follow with a trailing foot, but Romeo anticipated it.

He snapped the ball back again with his left and spun — the classic Marseille roulette — cleanly around Banega.

Gone.

One-on-one defeated, Banega stumbled behind as Romeo surged forward.

Augusto cut in next, stepping in to close the angle.

Romeo let the ball drift with his left foot… feint… fake push… then flicked a through pass diagonally with the outside of his boot.

Augusto's balance shifted completely the wrong way.

Two players beaten clean.

Carloni's jaw tensed.

"Is it just me," he muttered, "or has his dribbling actually improved… since yesterday?"

Aimar blinked. "No… You're right. That… that was Ronaldinho-level smooth."

Even Messi, watching intently from the other wing, froze for a moment.

That style — the quick pivot, the unpredictable elegance — it was familiar. Like someone out of a football dream.

Romeo broke into space.

Three passing lanes appeared in front of him.

The system in his mind displayed three options: 93%, 97%, 99% success probability.

He didn't hesitate.

His left foot sliced the ball diagonally with the outside instep — a sublime curve into space where Messi was already making his run.

Perfect weight. Perfect angle. Perfect timing.

Carlos let out a low whistle. "We might've just found the midfield brain we've been missing."

---

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