The perfect midfield: It starts with never passing the ball to Ronaldo.

Chapter 95 Eliminating Wrong Options; Where Will the Prodigy Pursued by Many Go?

The golden afternoon sun warmed the private winery on the outskirts of Madrid.

A man in a sharp suit, his hair neatly combed back, is swirling a wine glass in his hand.

"Mr. Pereira, please have a seat."

Florentino looked up and gave a perfectly timed smile.

"The 10-year-old Rioja white wine is very good, have a taste~" The Real Madrid president smiled and gestured for the waiter who had poured the wine to leave.

Thirteen goals, five assists.

"Eighteen years old, Champions League Golden Boot winner, second in the assist rankings. I watched every single goal and assist!"

"That shot against Paris Saint-Germain, a goal with the outside of my foot from 35 meters out, was brilliant."

"That inside-of-the-foot curler against Juventus, and that header against Bayern Munich—it wasn't easy to beat Boateng and Lahm and break through Neuer's defense!!"

"You're a true genius; no one else at this age can boast such incredible goal-scoring ability!"

"I heard you're leaving Porto?"

"So, how about joining Real Madrid?"

Seeing the excitement that Mario didn't feel about becoming a child emperor, Florentino continued to increase his bets.

"Perhaps I should put it another way, Joseph, how many years are you willing to waste a perfect 10 on an 8-point stage?"

"I've managed Real Madrid twice, and I've been playing football since 95!"

"I need to tell you a fact: the peak period of top players is shorter than anyone imagines!" Florentino's voice carried a certain certainty born of experience.

"You're eighteen this year, with amazing long-range shots, excellent heading ability, and considerable creativity, but Mario, nothing lasts forever!"

He downed the white wine in his hand in one gulp, then leaned forward slightly.

"Maybe around twenty-three or twenty-four, your knees will start to react."

"At twenty-six, your body will tell you that you don't want to jump that high today."

"At 28, you'll find that those opportunities to shoot from half-court require an extra step of adjustment before you can unleash your power."

"Young man, you should become famous as early as possible!"

"Winning the Portuguese league title is great."

"I respect every champion. But Mario, you're eighteen years old and you've scored thirteen goals in the Champions League. Your standards are beyond what an ordinary top club can meet."

"If you score ten more goals for a team like Arsenal next year, people will say that kid is still amazing."

"But if you score ten goals for Real Madrid in the Champions League, people will say that kid is ready to compete for the Ballon d'Or."

"This is the power of the platform!"

"This is the power of Real Madrid!"

Florentino repeated the club's name, as if savoring its weight.

"Besides that, do you know what it means to play at the Bernabéu?"

"This is the holy land of football, it can hold 80,000 people, and its matches are broadcast to nearly 100 countries!"

"This means that you might get more attention playing a regular league match in Madrid than you would for ten Champions League group stage matches in Porto."

After saying that, Florentino took out his phone from his pocket, tapped a few times, and handed it to Mario.

The screen displays a comparison of the two clubs' social media follower data.

"This is not for showing off."

"It's to show you how many times your long-range shots, your headers, and your assists will be magnified here."

"Now, the best clubs are opening their doors to you, what are you waiting for?"

Florentino was like the serpent with the apple, relentlessly tempting Mario to nod.

As the club president, he only wanted to bring the best players to his team.

But Mario, who wants to become the GOAT, has to consider even more!

Firstly, the club's players and fans are prone to accidentally clicking on certain things, and they also like to see apology statements made exclusively in the Chinese-speaking region.

Secondly, Robinson is still in his prime. Even if he can take over like James did after joining his team, it will affect his future reputation.

Seeing that Mario was still shaking his head, Florentino began to reason with him, drawing on his own experience.

"I've seen far too many geniuses."

"They amazed Europe at eighteen or nineteen, gradually became mediocre at twenty-two or twenty-three, and by twenty-seven or twenty-eight... if you look up the Champions League rosters from those years, you won't find them anymore."

"It's not because their talent has disappeared."

"It's because during their best years, they stayed on a stage that wasn't big enough."

"If the stage isn't big enough, the opponents won't be strong enough; if the opponents aren't strong enough, you won't be able to identify your own problems; if you can't identify your problems, you won't be able to solve them when you're in your best physical condition."

"By the time you've wasted a few years and discovered the problem, your body will no longer allow you to solve it."

"I don't need you to make a decision today."

Florentino stood up, took a rather high-quality card from his business card holder, and placed it on the edge of the table.

"My personal number is on this business card. You can think about it for a week, a month, or even until the summer transfer window is almost over."

"But I want you to remember one thing."

"This is Real Madrid, the best club on this blue planet!"

"Choosing this place is your first step towards becoming a legend!!"

Mario looked at Florentino, the soon-to-be nineteen-year-old prodigy who had also downed his wine in one gulp, and then asked with a smile.

"Mr. Florentino, I have a question to ask you."

"If I score more than 20 goals in the Champions League for a club like Arsenal, do I still need to consider my platform when it comes to the Ballon d'Or?"

"If I continue to perform like this for more than ten years, can I become a true legend in football?"

Florentino smiled as he looked at the naive young man.

"So your decision is to reject Real Madrid, the club with the greatest history?"

Mario responded with a smile as well.

"I want every club I join to be a contender for the best club of the 21st century!"

Florentino couldn't understand Mario's thinking, shook his head, and decided to focus on pursuing Wells' winger Gareth Bale.

In Arsenal's offices, which are also located in North London like Tottenham's, Wenger, who was urging the director to make an offer for Porto, was sneezing uncontrollably.

Having put on an extra layer of clothing, he was already basking in the glory of reclaiming the Premier League title after the arrival of the best player.

Having missed out on Cristiano Ronaldo, Wenger didn't want to miss out on another historic player.

With a €6000 million release clause, a €1500 million signing bonus, and his own prestigious reputation, Mario should feel Arsenal's sincerity.

Meanwhile, Mario, having finished his conversation with Florentino, glanced at Mendes's text messages and emails.

He felt a little sorry for Nana.

Although it was natural to use Arsenal as an example, Mario doesn't want to bring his talents to the Emirates Stadium.

The boss was reluctant to invest, and still had to repay the loan.

Sometimes, teams raise transfer funds through loan extensions, and the team's top earner only has £100,000 a month.

Clearly, North London was not a good place to go at this time!

Moreover, he's been mentioned alongside Ronaldo and Messi in the media, so their salaries can't be too disparate!

Within a day, Mario vetoed the deal between the two clubs.

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