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Chapter 3: So It’s the Nephew

“Watch out for Li!!”

“How did we miss him again?!”

“Another empty net! Another easy goal!!”

“Hey, are you Li Mo or Li Mo’s uncle right now?!”

On the training ground at Vismara, the young players of Milan’s U19 team were utterly stunned.

It was the second half of a training match.

Once again, Li Mo appeared seemingly out of nowhere along the ball’s path, then turned and swept the ball into the goal.

Simple, efficient—a goal on his very first touch!

Such a style made people wonder if somehow Li Mo’s brain had been swapped with that of his coach-uncle.

Though Li Mo had been transitioning due to a sudden growth spurt, he had never shown this level of performance before.

By the sidelines, the coaches at Vismara all turned their gaze towards Inzaghi.

“Pippo, this kid is practically another you. Have you been giving him special training?”

“How can he be so similar?”

“Did you see his positioning? He’s always hovering just on the offside line.”

Inzaghi was somewhat surprised. He hadn’t expected Li Mo to improve so rapidly.

Initially, he had asked Li Mo to change position and adopt his style as a last-ditch effort, not truly expecting Li Mo to become the next him.

Because a striker’s instinct is purely innate and hard to train.

He only hoped Li Mo could learn some positioning skills, combine them with his height, and improve his physicality.

In that way, he could hold his own in the professional arena.

But Li Mo’s performance in this training match made Inzaghi feel as if he was seeing himself on the field all over again.

“Could the instinct for scoring really be inherited through blood?”

Inzaghi stroked his chin thoughtfully.

After all, Li Mo was his nephew, carrying the bloodline of the Inzaghi family.

How satisfying!

After scoring, Li Mo watched the ball roll into the net, standing near the penalty area with squinted eyes, recalling the entire process of his goal.

He had timed the run perfectly to beat the offside trap and then pulled the ball back to the far post.

Sure enough, the ball was passed into that zone.

Then Li Mo lifted his foot and swept the shot toward the far corner.

A simple, effortless goal.

Having fully integrated the “Inzaghi Scoring Instinct Module,” he seemed to have unlocked some hidden potential. Sometimes, he could instinctively anticipate scoring opportunities, and his positioning skills appeared to have been instantly enhanced.

What was even more crucial was his first touch.

That was what truly made Li Mo feel his abilities had greatly improved.

His first touch always positioned him perfectly for a comfortable shot.

His uncle was really impressive.

Li Mo spread his arms wide, smiling as his teammates rushed over to celebrate.

Though he had lost speed, stride frequency, the stable low center of gravity of a shorter player, even much of his ball control, he had gained something in return.

And it seemed he had gained more than he had lost.

Because Li Mo was not merely going to be another Inzaghi.

He could surpass Inzaghi.

He could even stand at the pinnacle of professional football!

“I want to play for the first team!”

Li Mo’s goal gradually became clear.

Either secure steady playing time with Milan’s first team or leave.

Five days later.

After a day’s training, Li Mo stayed behind at the training base to practice with his left foot as usual.

“Ding! You have completed the integration of the Andrea Petagna Dominant Foot Module!”

With the system’s voice ringing in his mind, Li Mo unleashed a powerful shot with his left foot.

The ball struck the post with a bang and bounced out.

His left foot was now just as capable as his right.

But the problem was that Li Mo’s technical skill had regressed significantly.

In the office building at the training base, Inzaghi stood by the window watching Li Mo train.

At first, when he saw Li Mo’s qualities, he worried it was just a one-time good performance—like a blind cat catching a dead mouse.

But after several days of observation, Inzaghi was certain: this was the next him!

No, his future would be even stronger.

Because as Li Mo adapted to his sudden growth in height, his speed, physicality, and stamina would all surpass Inzaghi’s at the same age.

The thought excited Inzaghi.

Li Mo’s abilities shown on the training ground made it clear he no longer belonged at Vismara.

He needed to gain experience on the professional stage.

In fact, over the next two days, Li Mo’s performances in friendlies with Milan’s U19 team against two local youth teams confirmed this.

He scored hat-tricks in back-to-back games.

This only reinforced Inzaghi’s conviction.

So, he sent a detailed email to the first team coach, Allegri, describing Li Mo’s abilities.

“Massimi, Li is an exciting striker. I believe he can earn a place in Milan’s first team!”

He wrote at the end of the email.

“Li Mo?”

Allegri frowned as he looked over Li Mo’s profile.

“Used to be a speedy forward known for his breakthroughs. But in the past six months, he shot up 20 centimeters in height, losing his speed advantage, transitioning to center forward, and scoring six goals in the last two friendlies?”

Reading the file, Allegri’s brow nearly furrowed into the Alps.

He glanced at the two recent U19 friendly opponents.

Novara and Patria.

What kind of backwater teams were these?

Scoring six goals against such youth squads held little reference value.

The most valuable part of the report was the evaluation from Milan’s U19 head coach and club legend Filippo Inzaghi:

“Li is agile in positioning, has a sharp instinct for goals, a natural striker. His height is sufficient, and he has the potential to become a center forward who can hold the ball up.”

The future.

Allegri sighed.

Did Li have a future here in Milan?

Since last season ended, nearly all of Milan’s veteran stalwarts had departed.

Nesta, Gattuso, Inzaghi, Seedorf, Zambrotta—all had left the first team.

Though these were veterans with limited playing time anyway.

Inzaghi, though still technically on the first team, had started coaching at Vismara late last season; once the season ended, he retired and took up the youth coach role.

The real blow was the departure of Ibrahimović and Thiago Silva—both lured away by the new wealthy owners of Paris Saint-Germain.

Now, Milan’s media and fans heavily criticized Allegri.

But Allegri had his own bitter story—the real decisions were made by Galliani, not him.

He wasn’t an idiot; knowing the club wouldn’t spend big on transfers, he was left holding the bag after the team’s attacking and defensive cores were sent away.

Speaking of which,

Li Mo was actually the first player Inzaghi had recommended.

“Li Mo. He’s from the Dragon Kingdom?”

Hearing the name, Allegri turned to his assistant Tassotti.

“Yes, but he can also be considered Italian.”

“Oh?”

“Because his mother is Italian.”

Allegri paused.

“This guy’s mixed-race? Didn’t his mother do a paternity test?”

Allegri joked.

“His mother is Martina Inzaghi, Pippo’s sister.”

“So he’s the nephew.”

Allegri placed the file on the desk.

(End of chapter)