Football: Start with the Kaka template, dominate the football field!

The road conditions from Dortmund Airport to the city center are very good.

Klopp drove a black Opel sedan, acting as his own driver.

Opel is one of the official sponsors of Borussia Dortmund, and almost all players and coaches drive this brand of car.

"How are you feeling? Is this your first time in Germany?"

Klopp kept glancing at Qin Feng through the rearview mirror as he drove.

"The air is very good," Qin Feng replied.

Compared to the dryness of Madrid, the air in the Ruhr region is noticeably more humid, carrying a unique scent of industrial cities, a mixture of grass and metal.

"Haha, at least the air is good," Klopp laughed. "There's no sunshine or beaches like in Madrid here, just beer, sausages, and a bunch of crazy fans."

The agent, Garcia, sitting in the passenger seat, seemed somewhat reserved from the moment he got into the car.

He never dreamed that one day he would be able to ride in a car driven by Jürgen Klopp himself.

This top coach, known for his passion and personality in European football, is like a friendly neighbor in private, talkative and down-to-earth.

"By the way, let me introduce you." Klopp gestured with his chin to the scenery flashing past the car window, "Dortmund is a working-class city, and its fans are the purest working class."

"They can accept the team losing, but they absolutely cannot accept players not giving their all on the field."

"Therefore, when playing football here, technique is secondary; attitude is the most important thing."

"Do you get me?"

Klopp's seemingly casual words were actually conveying the club's core values ​​to Qin Feng.

"Understood." Qin Feng nodded. "The foundation of Gegenpressing is to never tire of running."

Upon hearing this, Klopp glanced at Qin Feng again through the rearview mirror, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes.

This kid really did his homework.

He doesn't seem like an 18-year-old player; he's more like a seasoned tactical analyst.

……

The car quickly arrived at the Knappschaft Hospital in Dortmund.

This is the official medical examination hospital designated by Borussia Dortmund, and it has the most advanced sports medicine testing equipment in Germany.

"Go on, kid." Klopp stopped the car in front of the hospital. "The medical team is already waiting for you. Give them a surprise."

"Remember, this is the first battle of your counterattack."

Qin Feng got out of the car, and his agent Garcia quickly followed.

"Mr. Klopp, then we..."

"You guys go for your medical checkups, I'll go back to the training base to arrange training." Klopp waved his hand, "I'll wait for your good news."

After saying that, he stepped on the gas, and the black Opel merged into the traffic.

Garcia stared at the departing car, still somewhat disoriented.

"He...he actually came to pick us up in person."

"Let's go." Qin Feng patted his shoulder, his expression calm.

He knew that Klopp's personal visit to pick him up at the airport was not only a sign of importance, but also a gesture.

He declared to the media, the club's management, and even the players: "This person I brought back personally is mine."

Inside the hospital, two members of the medical team, dressed in Dortmund uniforms, had been waiting for some time.

Leading the group was the team's chief medical officer, Dr. Marcus Braun.

A German man in his fifties, with a serious expression and eyes as sharp as a scalpel.

"Qin Feng? I am Braun."

He looked Qin Feng up and down, his gaze lingering on his knees and ankles for a few seconds.

"Come with me, we've arranged the most comprehensive medical examination in the club's history for you."

Braun's tone was devoid of any emotion.

The young assistant behind him looked at Qin Feng with obvious curiosity and suspicion in his eyes.

Clearly, they had already seen the medical report on Real Madrid's "glass man".

Over the next few hours, Qin Feng was like a race car about to leave the factory, being sent onto the most precise testing line.

Blood tests, cardiopulmonary function tests, muscle fiber scans, bone density measurements, joint dynamic balance tests...

The tests were so numerous and tedious that they were almost unbearable.

Dr. Braun was present throughout the entire process, constantly taking notes on his tablet, his brow furrowed.

The last and most crucial item is the nuclear magnetic resonance (MRI) scan.

Qin Feng lay on the cold testing equipment, the deafening roar of the machine in his ears.

He needs to undergo a full-body scan of his knees, ankles, thighs, and calves.

This is the core evidence that led to his "death sentence".

By the time all the tests were finished, it was already afternoon.

Qin Feng sat in the lounge, drinking the sports drinks provided by the hospital, and even had the leisure to observe the Dortmund team crests from different eras on the wall.

He believed more than anyone else that the system-modified body was flawless.

On the contrary, the agent, Garcia, was restless and paced back and forth in the room.

This physical examination will directly determine Qin Feng's fate.

If he doesn't pass the test, let alone Dortmund, probably no team in Europe will want him.

The waiting time is always particularly agonizing.

About an hour later, the door to the lounge was pushed open.

Chief team doctor Dr. Braun walked in, carrying a thick stack of reports.

His expression was more serious than before.

Garcia's heart sank to the bottom in an instant.

It’s over.

"Dr. Braun, is... is there a problem?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Braun ignored him and walked straight up to Qin Feng.

He slammed the stack of reports onto the table in front of Qin Feng.

Then, he stared intently into Qin Feng's eyes and asked, word by word:

"How...how did you do that?"

"What?" Qin Feng asked, somewhat puzzled.

"I mean your body!" Braun's voice unconsciously rose a few decibels, his eyes filled with a complex mix of shock, confusion, and ecstasy.

"Your muscle fiber strength is 5% higher than that of our center-back, Hummels!"

"Your cardiopulmonary function is comparable to that of a long-distance runner!"

"And your joints! Especially your right knee!"

Braun poked hard at an MRI image on the report with his finger.

"Real Madrid's report saying you have old injuries and meniscus wear is utter nonsense!"

"This image shows that your knee structure is practically perfect! Strong ligaments, smooth meniscus, and plenty of synovial fluid! This is not a knee that has suffered a serious injury at all! I even think it's better than many healthy professional athletes!"

Braun became more and more agitated as he spoke. He picked up the report and turned to the conclusion section on the last page.

Our conclusion is: Perfect!

"Your body is one of the most suitable for modern football that I've seen in my thirty years of professional experience!"

"Now, can you tell me what exactly happened with Real Madrid's report?"

Garcia gripped the coffee cup in his hand, his hands trembling so badly that he didn't even notice the warm liquid spilling out. He just stared blankly at Dr. Braun, his mouth half-open, unable to utter a single word.

Qin Feng, on the other hand, appeared much calmer; he had long anticipated this outcome.

"Perhaps their machines are too old," he shrugged, making up a story on the spot.

"Bullshit!" Dr. Braun couldn't help but swear. "That's the best sports medicine center in all of Spain!"

He certainly didn't believe Qin Feng's nonsense.

There must be some inside story here.

However, he is not someone who likes to pry into things.

As the team doctor, his responsibility is to ensure the players' health.

Since Qin Feng's body is fine, even better than expected, that's enough.

"Okay, I won't ask anymore." Braun took a deep breath to calm his excited emotions.

The way he looked at Qin Feng had completely changed.

It was the kind of appreciation a doctor would have for a work of art.

"Welcome to Dortmund, kid."

He extended his hand. "From now on, I'll be responsible for your health. Remember, if you feel unwell, tell me immediately."

"Okay, Doctor." Qin Feng grasped his hand.

……

When Qin Feng's perfect medical examination report was faxed to the Blackwell Training Center immediately.

The entire coaching staff was in an uproar.

"I knew it! I knew those Spanish idiots' report was wrong!"

Klopp excitedly pumped his fist, like a child who had won a final.

He scratched a lottery ticket and won the grand prize!

Assistant coach Buvac also smiled: "It seems we've really struck gold."

Klopp picked up the phone and dialed the number of club CEO Watzke directly.

"Hans, that Chinese kid, passed the medical exam, the results are perfect!"

"Now, immediately, right now! Hold a press conference to officially announce his joining the company!"

"I want all of Germany to know what a genius we at Dortmund have acquired!"

……

Four o'clock in the afternoon.

Led by staff, Qin Feng and Garcia arrived at the Blakel training base.

On the training ground, Borussia Dortmund's first-team players are training.

Klopp spotted them from afar, whistled, and paused training.

"Hey guys, come here!"

The players stopped what they were doing and looked over curiously.

"Let me introduce our new teammate, Qin Feng from China!"

Klopp put his arm around Qin Feng's shoulder and announced loudly.

All the players' eyes were focused on Qin Feng.

There was curiosity, scrutiny, and goodwill.

A tall, handsome blond player walked up to them.

He was wearing training jersey number 11, with a sunny smile on his face.

"Hello, I am Marco Reus."

He stretched out his hand.

Looking at the familiar face before him, Qin Feng felt a pang of emotion.

Marco Reus, nicknamed "Little Rocket," is the future flag bearer of Borussia Dortmund.

"Hello, I'm Qin Feng." He extended his hand and shook hands with the other person.

Just then, a loud, boisterous voice came from behind the crowd.

"Hey! You're that kid from Real Madrid?"

A player with a buzz cut and a somewhat nonchalant look squeezed through.

He looked Qin Feng up and down and grinned.

"My name is Kevin Grosskreutz. You can call me Kevin, or 'Grand Cross'."

"Welcome here! If anyone bullies you in the future, just say my name!"

This native of Dortmund expressed his welcome to his new teammates in the most direct and enthusiastic way.

Qin Feng smiled as well: "Thank you, Grand Cross."

"Alright, everyone get to know each other, then let's continue training!" Klopp clapped his hands.

"As for you..." He looked at Qin Feng, "No need for joint practice today. Go to the locker room to change your gear, then jog around the court to get familiar with the environment."

"Tomorrow, I'm going to throw you into the practice match."

A sly glint flashed in Klopp's eyes.

"You'd better be prepared, kid."

"Because your first opponent is our record signing, who cost us 2750 million euros."

Klopp's gaze fell on a figure drinking water silently not far away.

Henrich Mkhitaryan.