My system allows me to copy talents

In PSG's training facility, players drenched in sweat were seen leaving the pitch after a grueling training session. The sun was already at its zenith, shining brilliantly. The sky was crystal clear, and cotton-candy-like clouds drifted lazily across the vast expanse.

Enrique, a rather lean individual, stood on the sidelines, wearing black sunglasses to shade his eyes from the sun.

His disheveled, greying hair dangled in the wind.

While the players were departing, Enrique walked up to an individual with an imposing frame. The individual had a towering height of 193 cm.

Perspiration snaked down his thick neck while he was drenched.

"Moretti, meet me at my office after you clean up," Enrique said.

Vittorio Moretti turned to look at Enrique with his piercing grey eyes. He had heard his command, and he wouldn't turn it down.

He nodded his head without uttering a single word.

Soon after Enrique left, Vittorio was swarmed by his curious teammates, who each wanted to nibble on the information.

Later in the office, Enrique stood by the whiteboard with a marker in his hand. The whiteboard was rather messy.

Enrique, with his brows knitted, stared arduously at the whiteboard, fiddling with the marker he held. Just then, he heard a knock.

Knock! Knock!

The knock on the door stirred him awake, distracting him from his state of focus. The knot in his brows eased up, his tense expression growing lighter.

"Come in," he said.

The door creaked open as Vittorio walked inside with a solemn look on his face. "You wanted to see me, coach?"

"Yeah, come sit here," Enrique said, his eyes glued on the whiteboard.

Vittorio didn't find Enrique's lack of attention strange. He was used to seeing such a sight. It wasn't the first time Enrique was in such a mood.

He could tell Enrique was strategizing something.

Just from his gesture alone, Vittorio could sketch out the reason he was called.

Yet still, when he entered the room, he couldn't help but notice the scribbles on the board. He could see a detailed outline drawn on the board.

The position of the opposing squad, even the path an individual player would take, he had noted them all. Even the unique trait of individuals was noted.

At a glance, the contents of the board looked difficult to comprehend.

However, he could still comprehend his role in it.

"Vittorio, would you be able to manage him?" Enrique pointed at the whiteboard.

Vittorio couldn't bring himself to answer immediately. He sat before Enrique with his brows knitted, deep in thought.

The atmosphere in the room turned grim as he began to ponder.

With his fingers interlocked, he pondered.

He could tell what he was getting into. Even the note underneath said it was nearly impossible to stop him in one-on-one duels.

The muscles in his arms bulged as he moved his fingers in contemplation. He had tattooed a growling Bengal Tiger on his right forearm, with its sharp canines sticking out. Meanwhile, on the other forearm, he had tattooed a coiling viper.

'Is it too much?' Enrique couldn't help but frown at Vittorio's expression.

He needed Vittorio. He believed there wasn't anyone else capable than him. The upcoming match was one of the most important matches in his life.

He had spent an abundant amount of time preparing.

The club desperately sought the trophy, and Enrique wanted to get his hands on it again. After his successful spell at Barcelona, he hadn't had much success.

Hence, he was even more desperate to win it again.

Finally, after years of grueling wait, the moment had arrived.

Hence, he wanted his plan to be as flawless as possible. He had planned meticulously and didn't want any variable to ruin it.

Moretti, after much contemplation, heaved a deep sigh.

"Leave this up to me," he said, his eyes glistening with confidence.

Enrique couldn't help but rejoice at the sight.

The following days, while both teams were occupied with the preparation for the final, the atmosphere became even more hectic.

Excitement and anticipation hung high in the air.

Especially regarding two things— the winner of the Champions League and the winner of the Golden Ball.

Given his outstanding performance up to this point, Hiro's name couldn't be overlooked whenever the award was mentioned. Despite playing half as many matches as others, he emerged as one of the overwhelming favourites to win the award.

Well, given the performance he had put on, it was inevitable for his name to be mentioned.

Hiro, however, was completely unaware of it.

Even though winning the Golden Ball had been one of his most cherished desires, he couldn't care less about it for now, he had something more important to achieve— The Champions League.

Hence, he had concentrated all his focus on the upcoming match.

****

As the finals drew closer, the atmosphere became even more heated. The crowd buzzed even more fervently for the finals.

Tickets sold at an alarming rate, surpassing all previous records.

The football pundits became even more enthusiastic as they talked about the finals. Their views collided, creating an entertaining spectacle for the audience.

The footballing world was buzzing, awaiting the new champion.

No matter who won the trophy, a new champion would be crowned. Hence, the excitement around the event was even greater than before.

Especially when both of these teams had come close to the title.

The stakes were high, and people were fully aware of it.

Along with the growing excitement for the finals, several rumors also emerged, and these rumors were filled with disbelief.

Yet, people couldn't entirely rule it out as fake.

Even though he had been at the club for less than a year, rumors of Hiro's potential transfer had begun to surface in the footballing world,

It was rumored that the linked club was willing to pay the release price for his services, and they desperately sought his signature.

Though his present club denied the rumors, people still couldn't help but feel interested. Perhaps, the fault lay with the club for valuing him less than what was to be expected.

Now that someone was willing to pay the release clause, even the club was at a loss for words. The decision solely lay upon Hiro.