When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 121 I, Roy, am a fine man.
February 1, 2004, La Tilby Training Center, Monaco.

A black sedan slowly drove into the training base's parking lot. Maicon and his agent opened the car door and, guided by staff, headed towards the main building.

Deschamps and assistant coach Jean Petit were already waiting in the conference room.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Deschamps personally led the new signing on a tour of the training facilities.

"The changing room is over here."

Deschamps pushed open the heavy wooden door and clapped his hands. The players, who were organizing their equipment, all stood up.

"Everyone, this is our new teammate, Maicon."

Deschamps gave a brief introduction.

A round of applause erupted in the locker room.

Roy and Giuly exchanged a glance. This Brazilian defender was even more muscular than they had imagined, with shoulders so broad they could almost burst out of his jersey.

When Maicon walked up to Roy, their eyes met.

Roy said in Portuguese with Spanish-accented vocabulary, "Welcome, I've heard your crosses are very accurate."

Maicon raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting to hear his mother tongue here.

Roy patted him on the shoulder and lowered his voice: "The right flank is yours now."

This perfectly timed welcome remark eased Maicon's tense expression somewhat.

He nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips: "I prefer showcasing my skills on the field."

Maicon's arrival greatly strengthened Monaco's right flank. When news of the transfer being finalized broke, the other right-backs in the team silently clenched their fists in relief.

They knew that the competition for starting positions would become even fiercer, and some even considered leaving the team.

Argentine right-back Ibarra always leaves an opening behind him whenever he rushes forward to attack.

Although Norwegian Alfakiri is hardworking, his performance has always been lukewarm.

This season, Deschamps has frequently used youth academy product Givet as a makeshift right-back, but this center-back hasn't been able to offer Giuly much help in attack.

Now, a true master on the right wing has arrived.

With the winter transfer window closing, Monaco's squad has seen some personnel changes.

Players who have had limited playing time this season are starting to seek new opportunities for development.

Loaned defensive midfielder Edouard Cissé ultimately chose to terminate his loan contract early and return to Paris Saint-Germain. The midfielder was originally intended to fill the void left by Max Marquez, but after Pedretti's arrival, he consistently failed to secure regular playing time at Monaco.

The situation is more complicated for Argentine right-back Ibarra.

When he tried to return to Porto, he received a clear reply from Mourinho – there was no place for him in the team.

Ultimately, the Argentine defender chose to return to Boca Juniors.

Elfaqiri was in contact with Norway's Rosenborg and several Bundesliga clubs during the transfer window.

After careful consideration, the Norwegian full-back decided to rejoin Rosenborg on loan before the transfer window closed.

Even their star striker, Pulso, was once linked with a transfer to AC Milan.

But the Croatian knew very well that even if he transferred, he would not be able to play for Milan in the Champions League and would have to compete with Shevchenko and Inzaghi for a striker position.

After weighing his options, he chose to stay at Monaco and continue as a backup center forward.

Deschamps blew the whistle, and the group competition officially began.

Roy received the ball on the left wing, looked up, and saw that the person standing opposite him was none other than the new signing Maicon.

The Brazilian lowered his center of gravity slightly, his eyes fixed on his feet.

His exploits over the past year had even reached Brazil, and he knew this 19-year-old was not someone to be trifled with.

Roy smirked, lightly flicked his left foot, and made a move to cut inside.

Maicon immediately moved to block, but unexpectedly Roy suddenly flicked his right outside of his foot forward, and the ball seemed to be glued to his foot, darting out along the sideline.

Before he could turn around and chase after him, Roy had already accelerated and overtook him!
Maicon reacted quickly enough, twisting his body to chase back the moment Roy received the ball with the outside of his foot.

The Brazilian was confident in his speed, but after only a couple of steps, he realized something was wrong—Roy's acceleration was faster than he had imagined, and the distance between them not only didn't decrease, but actually widened.

Maicon clenched his teeth, his thigh muscles aching from the tension.

Not wanting to be outmaneuvered in his first training session after joining the team, he threw himself into the air, sliding his right leg across the grass in a tackle.

Roy, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, suddenly caught the ball with his right foot, and when he stopped abruptly, a small piece of the turf was lifted up by his studs.

Maicon missed his tackle and could only watch helplessly as Roy deftly passed the ball across to Rothen in the middle.

A few whistles sounded from the sidelines, and Giuly shouted with a smile, "Welcome to Monaco!"

Maicon pushed himself up on the grass and found Roy reaching out to him.

As the Brazilian grabbed the hand and stood up, he heard the young man say in a low voice, "Don't push yourself so hard next time, the Champions League hasn't even started yet."

These words sounded like concern, but Roy's eyes clearly gleamed with cunning.

Maicon frowned; he had indeed underestimated Roy's explosive power.

But what surprised him even more was the team's frighteningly smooth attacking coordination—Rothen's passes always found openings, Evra's overlapping runs were perfectly timed, and Roy's runs were unpredictable.

On one occasion, just as Maicon was about to press, Roy had already passed the ball with one touch, then made a run inside and played a one-two with Morientes, easily tearing apart the reserve team's defense.

After about ten minutes, Maicon gradually figured out Roy's habits.

When Rothen attempted another diagonal pass to the left wing, Maicon anticipated it, swiftly blocking the ball and stealing it away. Roy paused for a moment, then clapped his hands with a smile: "Great job!"

Not long after, Roy, Rothen and Evra launched a series of one-touch passes on the left wing, seemingly about to break into the penalty area.

This time, Maicon didn't blindly rush in to intercept. Instead, he and Rodriguez switched defensively, one marking the man and the other blocking the passing lanes, ultimately successfully clearing the ball out of bounds.

After the match, Maicon wiped his sweat and walked towards Roy: "Next time, I won't let you have it so easy."

Roy grinned and replied in his Portuguese with a French accent, "I'll be waiting."

The final score of the training match was 6-3.

Roy played with ease, not just making relentless runs, but instead frequently changing positions like a commander, using concise passes to connect Evra on the left and Morientes in the middle.

Several times he could have easily beaten the defenders, but instead he chose to pass back to Rothen who was making a run forward, which drew frequent nods of approval from Deschamps on the sidelines.

But in the final minute, when the score was 5-3, Roy suddenly started his run.

He received the ball near the center line, dribbled past the tired Cissé with a croquet ball, and then changed direction three times in a row against Maicon's defense.

The Brazilian didn't fall for the feint this time, but Roy still managed to use his half-step advantage to unleash a sudden shot from the edge of the penalty area.

The ball shot into the near corner like a cannonball, and although Silva got a touch on the ball, he was powerless to stop it.

When Deschamps blew the final whistle, Maicon was panting, his hands on his knees.

He caught a glimpse of Roy high-fiving Giuly in celebration, Roy wearing that relaxed "I haven't given it my all" smile.

The Brazilian shook his head, but couldn't help but laugh as well.

Such opponents and such teammates ignited a fierce competitive spirit in his blood.

What made him even more pleased was that Roy came out, gave him a thumbs up, and said, "I don't think you'll be any worse than Cafu in the future."

Maicon paused for a moment, then burst out laughing: "Don't give me that. You didn't hold back when you passed me earlier."

But being compared to Brazilian legend Cafu would make any right-back's heart flutter.

Juli also came over and stammered out in his newly learned Portuguese words: "Right wing. You. Me. Cooperate!"

The coaching staff were talking in hushed tones on the sidelines, Deschamps' gaze sweeping back and forth between Maicon, Roy and Giuly.

The three joked around, while Caniggia patiently explained positioning to Ranteri, the young winger who was training with the reserve team.

The two core players on the team never act like superstars.

Although this "Son of the Wind" is the most senior, he is always the first to arrive and accompany the younger players for extra training.

Deschamps watched the Argentine demonstrate off-the-ball movement and recalled a scene from the locker room last week.

When Ribery was dejected because of his mistake, it was Caniggia who quietly handed him a bottle of water and said, "I was more impulsive than you when I was young."

"It's rare to see such a peaceful locker room," assistant coach Petit whispered.

Deschamps nodded.

He stroked his chin, pondering: Once the Brazilians are fully integrated into the tactical system, Monaco's right flank might truly be able to overturn the defense of European powerhouses.

The wind was biting cold at the Stadio Sant'Simforz in Metz on February 7, 2004.

Ligue 1, Round 23.

The home team, Metz, deployed a five-man defensive formation, and Roy was immediately surrounded as soon as he touched the ball – right wing-back Allegro closely marked him, defensive midfielder Leca was ready to cover at any time, and left center-back Meyer was watching closely.

"Look at this scene! Roy, the winner of the European Golden Boy award, has just won the most dazzling new star award in Europe, but now he is firmly locked up by the defensive chains of Metz!"

The commentator exclaimed, "Metz has practically deployed half their team to mark him!"

But Monaco's attack did not stop there.

"Roy drew too much defensive attention, which actually made his teammates play more relaxed!"

The commentator continued, "Look at Giuly, Rothen, and Morientes, they now have more space, and Monaco's attack is actually more fluid!" In the 27th minute, Monaco's patience finally paid off.

After drawing three defenders on the left wing, Roy passed the ball back to Pedretti, who then switched the ball to open space on the right wing.

Giuly and Rothen's consecutive passes split the defense, and when the Metz defenders were all pushed back into the six-yard box, the ball was passed back to the edge of the penalty area.

Unmarked, Plasil took two steps, unleashed a powerful low shot with his right foot, the ball sailing through the crowd and into the net. 1-0.

"This is the epitome of team football! Roy's presence created a gap in Metz's defensive system, allowing Plasil to calmly take the shot—Monaco takes the lead!"

Ten minutes later, Pedretti made a long pass from the backfield to Roy, who was receiving the ball with his back to goal.

Roy got past Bobicone, flicked the ball with his heel, and Rothen received it, feinted a shot and then cut inside to get past Walter, before passing it to Morientes.

The Spanish center forward leaned on Martial and passed back to Giuly, who suddenly cut inside from the flank.

When Giuly dribbled into the penalty area, Metz goalkeeper Butler had already rushed out of his goal.

Giuly calmly passed the ball across to the penalty spot.

Roy had already arrived, and without adjusting his foot, he gently tapped the ball with the instep of his foot.

The ball obediently returned to Giuly's running path, and the latter met the ball with a powerful shot, the ball skimming along the grass and flying into the near corner of the net.

The entire attack began with Roy receiving the ball with his back to goal and ended with a perfectly coordinated pass between the two, requiring only four passes.

The Metz defenders stood frozen, watching helplessly as the ball seemed to come alive under the feet of the Monaco players.

Maicon, sitting on the bench, raised an eyebrow. Apart from top players like Ronaldo and Riva, such a combination is rarely seen in the Brazilian league.

In his hometown, strikers would definitely choose to dribble past the goalkeeper before shooting.

“These Frenchmen,” he muttered, “are playing a very new kind of football.”

In the 67th minute, Deschamps made a substitution, bringing on Bernardi and Zikos to replace Pedretti and Plasil.

Eight minutes later, Maicon appeared on the sidelines, replacing Squillaci to make his Monaco debut.

Givet moved inside to partner Abidal in central defense, leaving the right flank entirely to the bald Brazilian.

"This is the right-back that Monaco brought in from Cruzeiro during the winter transfer window."

The commentator flipped through the information, "A Brazilian U23 national team player, known for his amazing explosiveness."

Maicon seemed a bit nervous after coming on, and his first touch of the ball resulted in him stopping it out of bounds.

But soon, he made a textbook sliding tackle to steal the ball from Dieye, drawing gasps from the stands.

Jiuli proactively withdrew to help the newcomers adapt to the rhythm.

In the 78th minute, the two completed a brilliant one-two, but unfortunately Maicon's final cross went directly out of bounds.

"Calm down!"

Juli patted him on the back.

The Brazilian smiled sheepishly, then used his speed to outpace Signorino in the next defensive play.

In the 81st minute, Maicon suddenly intercepted Rodriguez's ball and surged forward 40 meters along the sideline like a sports car starting up.

Before Allegro could block him, he made a precise through pass to Giuly.

Giuly's lobbed pass arced towards the penalty area.

Rothen gently nudged the ball with his chest, and it obediently landed in front of him.

The instant he turned around, Roy had already started his run—he first feigned moving towards the near post, then suddenly changed direction and cut diagonally into the space behind the defender.

Just as Meyer was about to step forward to block Rothen, the ball had already slipped past him.

Roy appeared at the landing point as if he had anticipated the pass's trajectory, and gently flicked the ball with the instep of his right foot as Butler came out to intercept.

The ball passed the goalkeeper, bounced playfully in front of the goal line, and slowly rolled into the net.

Throughout the entire process, Roy kept his eyes fixed on his teammates' movements.

When Rothen received the ball, he had already begun to adjust his footwork; the instant the ball left Rothen's foot, his explosive acceleration was perfectly timed.

This seemingly effortless chip shot is the result of countless hours of training and perfect teamwork.

3-0!

After scoring, Roy was the first to run towards Maicon, the Brazilian grinning and showing his white teeth, while Giuly stood by with his hands on his hips, laughing heartily.

In stark contrast to the calm in Monaco, the commentary booth erupted instantly.

"Roy!! It's Roy again!!"

The commentator's voice almost ripped apart: "The 29th goal! This is Roy's 29th goal of the season! In just 23 rounds! My God, what are we witnessing?!"

"Rothen didn't even look up to observe, because he knew Roy would always start from the most dangerous area! Notice this offside trap; the opposing defender had barely moved half a step when Roy suddenly changed direction as if he had received a pre-emptive signal!"

"Papin's record of 30 goals and Fontaine's record of 35 goals in a season are just ahead, and it's not impossible that Scobral's record of 44 goals set by him in Marseille in the 1970-71 season will be surpassed. And if he maintains this efficiency, we will no longer be discussing 'whether he can break the record,' but rather 'whether anyone can see the taillights of this goal-scoring efficiency record in the next fifty years!'"

December 2, morning.

On the morning of February 9, 2004, the aroma of coffee filled the cafeteria at the Monaco training base.

The players ate breakfast in small groups while the TV replayed highlights from the Grammy Awards ceremony.

Rothen stared at the television, the jam knife in his hand hovering in mid-air.

"Beyoncé won five awards?"

He licked his lips, his eyes fixed on the female singer in a sequined bodysuit on the screen.

When the scene cut to a performance of "Crazy in Love," the bread in his hand fell "plop" into the plate.

Evra added a third sugar cube to his coffee: "I fell asleep while I was working on it, but the 50 Cent part was so amazing, it was worth it!"

He followed Rothen's gaze and whistled, "What, are you mesmerized?"

"That figure," Rothen poked at his bread with his fork, his eyes still glued to the TV, "Wouldn't it be amazing if I could ride on it?"

"Hey, hey."

Juli rolled up the newspaper and casually tapped him on the head.

He then flipped to the entertainment section of Le Parisien: "Look at this, Clinton and Gorbachev actually won awards too?"

"A politician's music award?"

Squillaci scoffed, "Next time, Blatter should be given a Best Director award, just to see him put on a show for FIFA every day."

Just then, Roy's phone rang.

He walked to the window to answer the phone; it was Nike's European director.

"I originally wanted to invite you to the awards ceremony, but the schedule was too tight, right?"

"That's right."

"Roy, what's the decision?" The voice on the other end of the phone was excited. "We just finished a meeting with LeBron's team, and he's very interested in the 'Dual Kings' plan. Just imagine, the future kings of football and basketball, jointly endorsing each other."

"Today, he will become the youngest player in history to break the 1000-point mark! And you..."

Roy frowned.

As a time traveler, he knew better than anyone what kind of business empire James would build in the future—those sky-high endorsements, meticulously designed personal brands, and watertight media operations were truly admirable.

Some of the successful experiences are even worth learning from for Roy.

Mark quickened his pace: "LeBron James just signed a $9000 million long-term contract with us last year, and now we're going to replicate that model in soccer. We'll take three steps:"

"First, this summer we'll launch the 'Battle of the Two Kings' ad campaign, featuring you and LeBron in a joint advertisement. He'll be dunking on the basketball court, and you'll be dribbling past three players on the soccer field. The final shot will be a silhouette of you back to back."

"Secondly, we originally wanted to design a custom logo for you and then develop an independent sub-brand after your commercial value stabilized. However, we noticed that you already have your own personal brand. We can talk about cooperation."

"Third, it will be launched before the 2006 World Cup."

“LeBron is ‘King James,’ and you are ‘Demon King Roy.’”

"LeBron is 'The Chosen One,' and you are 'Roi the Conqueror.'"

PS: The only person in history to use this title was William I, Duke of Normandy, who conquered England in the 11th century.

Roy listened to Nike's advice with a smile.

He didn't speak because he was silenced by being fucked.
"Doesn't the playoffs count in your 'King's' territory?"

The words lingered on his lips, but he swallowed them back.

On the other end of the phone, the European director was talking about Nike's planned eight-figure promotional budget.

Forget it
“That sounds very appealing,” Roy finally responded calmly. “Send the details to my agent.”

He turned to look at the restaurant, where several young players were imitating Beyoncé's dance moves. Maicon had already started to get into it, and was now exaggeratedly wiggling his hips, making everyone laugh.

"I, Roy, am a fine man!"

The thought popped into his head out of nowhere, and he laughed first.

(End of this chapter)