Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

Chapter 10: Grinding and Pay-to-Win—Not the Strongest, Just the Most Durable

"First La Liga victory achieved. Win in a top-tier European league: +1. Base points: +5. Win bonus: +10. Tier-A League Mission System activated. First Tier-A League Victory Gift Pack has been issued. Host has met the requirements for Stage Two of the 'Road to Football King.' System upgrade initiated. Please check back in 30 minutes to view updated system features."

Listening to the cold mechanical voice of the system echoing in his mind—something he would have found annoying in the past—Li Ang now felt an overwhelming rush of excitement, mixed with a fierce sense of relief.

It wasn't an exaggeration. The system hadn't given him a single automatic prompt since that first night he transmigrated—six years ago.

That night, it had only made an appearance to announce a single talent draw.

And since then? Total silence.

Not when he was selected for Getafe's youth academy.

Not even when he moved to Real Madrid's prestigious La Fábrica.

Nothing.

The only functions he'd ever been able to access were ones he had discovered by trial and error.

A fragmented talent draw system, split into four tiers: Black Iron, Bronze, Silver, and Gold.

A low-grade stamina potion that recharged once every ten days and couldn't be stockpiled if unused.

A basic dreamscape training module that could only be accessed for two hours every five days.

That was it.

Li Ang's only real means of progress, apart from sweat and effort, was to hoard points to unlock golden talent fragment draws.

But getting 500 points for a single draw?

It was brutal.

To put things in perspective:

When he was in the youth system, every time he completed training with a passing grade, the system awarded him 0.1 points.

Yes, 0.1.

Not even a full point.

Later, when he moved up to Real Madrid's C team, that reward increased to 0.2.

Once he made Castilla, it became 0.3.

And now, with the first team, it had finally risen to 0.5 points per training session. Still pitiful—but at least it was progress.

Match rewards were a little better, but still modest. Even when playing in Segunda División last year, a win only netted him 3 points.

So, for anyone wondering why Li Ang only managed to secure a loan to Betis at nineteen instead of becoming an early superstar like other transmigrator protagonists—it wasn't for lack of effort.

It was because the system was stingier than a dragon guarding its hoard.

It took him six years of grueling effort to save up just enough for a single golden talent fragment draw.

It wasn't that Li Ang wanted to complain.

But come on—facts were facts.

So now, as the system finally handed him a victory gift pack and announced its first upgrade in six years, it was all Li Ang could do not to tear up on the spot.

"Six years! You have any idea what I've been through these six years!?"

He growled the words through clenched teeth, causing Ramos, who had been standing nearby, to jump in surprise.

Luckily, Li Ang had spoken in Chinese, and Ramos didn't understand a word.

Still, seeing how fired up Li Ang looked, Ramos assumed he was just overwhelmed with emotion after his first La Liga win and quickly moved to calm him down.

Even Alonso, who had been celebrating with Canales, jogged over in concern.

"What's going on? Everything alright?"

"I'm fine, boss. Just got a little emotional. Sergio's helping me calm down. I'm good now—let's go celebrate!"

Li Ang quickly smoothed things over, building on Ramos' assumption and giving himself a way out.

Alonso took one look at him and, seeing that he did seem to be calming down, let it go. He grabbed both of them and led the way toward the visiting section to thank the traveling fans.

"Cristiano! Please, just one signature! I love you, Cristiano!"

"Igor! Great job! You were all amazing today!"

"Promise us you'll win the next match at the Bernabéu too! Hala Madrid!"

In the Mallorca away stands, thousands of fans in white jerseys greeted the Real Madrid players with deafening cheers.

Even Li Ang, to his surprise, heard his name shouted more than once.

"Little Lion! That was incredible! You're Castilla's pride—keep going strong!"

"Sign this for me, Little Lion! I saw you play at the Alfredo Di Stéfano last year!"

"Way to go, Little Lion! Keep that defense tight next match too—Osasuna better be ready!"

Li Ang blinked in surprise.

He had never imagined that a defensive midfielder—a defensive midfielder!—could earn such affection from Madridistas.

But then, he'd forgotten something.

He had two big advantages.

First: he was a product of Real Madrid's youth academy.

Second: he looked like he belonged at Real Madrid—sunny, handsome, and charismatic.

With that clean résumé and polished appearance, it wasn't hard to understand why fans were drawn to him.

Put that package in any top club in Europe, and he'd be the fanbase's golden boy.

With a shy smile, Li Ang ended up generously signing a few autographs for the more enthusiastic supporters.

Then he joined the rest of the squad heading back into the tunnel and to the locker room.

Mallorca's away dressing room was basic—cramped and outdated.

The team would wait until returning to the hotel for proper post-match recovery and therapy.

Mourinho, for his part, was heading straight to the post-match press conference, flanked by captain Iker Casillas.

So the rest of the players, after changing and packing up, were free to head to the team bus.

Li Ang stayed back for a moment, wiping off sweat and trying to keep calm.

But inside, he was buzzing.

Not because of the win—though that certainly helped.

It was the system.

After six years of bare-bones support, it had finally started to move again.

It had finally recognized his performance in an A-tier European league match.

And not just recognized it—but rewarded it. With points. With a mission system. With a victory gift pack.

And the system was upgrading.

He could barely sit still.

This wasn't just about getting stronger. It was about momentum.

Before, everything had been a grind. Tedious. Repetitive. Thankless.

Now?

Now there was structure. Missions. Tiered goals. Progress.

For the first time, Li Ang saw a real path forward—not just "get stronger somehow" but actual metrics and systems to measure it.

He didn't know what the upgrade would look like in thirty minutes.

He didn't know if he'd suddenly unlock new training features, advanced skill trees, or just better draw odds.

But he was ready for it.

Grind and pay-to-win—two hands, both grabbing tight.

He didn't care if he wasn't the most overpowered player out there.

He just wanted to be the one who could take the most punishment.

He would outlast everyone.

Li Ang blended in with his teammates as they passed through the mixed zone. When journalists scrambled to shove microphones in his face, he responded with a few polite smiles and greetings, then quickly strode out of the stadium.

The reporters looked at each other in bewilderment as Li Ang calmly boarded the team bus under the surprised gazes of his teammates.

After exchanging a few casual words with Alonso, Li Ang put on his headphones and leaned back, eyes closed.

Of course, he wasn't actually resting—he was inside his mind, opening the freshly upgraded Road to Football King system panel.

The newly updated system now featured a Store and an Item Draw template in addition to its original functions.

What surprised him even more was that the existing features had also been upgraded.

For instance, the stamina potion, which used to recharge once every ten days and only offered low-level recovery, was now upgraded to mid-level. It still couldn't be stockpiled: whether you used it or not, it would recharge once every ten days and then stay full indefinitely until used.

The dream training module that used to offer one basic training session every five days had now evolved into a combo: one training class + one intra-squad simulation match.

This was the upgrade Li Ang was most excited about.

He had already experimented with dream training before. The physical gains from the training carried over to his real body—but the fatigue? That was mysteriously healed before he woke up, without any damage at all.

In other words, this was his favorite kind of training: free and consequence-free.

Before, it was one session every five days.

Now? One session plus a full training match against system-generated teammates.

Even if he only stayed with Real Madrid for half a season, that meant more than twenty simulated matches against players like Cristiano Ronaldo, Di María, Xabi Alonso…

All at no physical cost.

How could he not grind? This was a goldmine.

As for the upgraded Talent Fragment Draw Machine, the only new feature was the addition of a new tier: Diamond.

That alone was enough to make Li Ang's eyes light up.

He wasn't disappointed by the lack of other changes. Sure, his current ability to earn system points was much better than before, but even so, scraping together 500 points for a gold-tier draw was still no walk in the park.

A La Liga win only gave 15 points.

He checked again. A draw? Only 5 points. A loss? Zero.

Yes, personal stats like goals and assists also earned points—but he was a defensive midfielder, and those contributions were still a stretch for someone in his position.

So those points? Tempting to look at, but unrealistic to count on. Not worth planning around.

Of course, if he won a trophy, that was a different story.

A La Liga title would immediately reward him with 500 points—a guaranteed gold fragment draw.

A Copa del Rey title? 200 points.

A Europa League win? Same as La Liga—500.

But the Champions League?

That was on another level.

1,000 points for winning the UEFA Champions League.

That just happened to match the price of a single Diamond-tier Talent Fragment.

The thought made Li Ang practically drool.

Still, after spending a while exploring the new system functions, he gradually cooled off.

There was no point daydreaming about which superstar fragment he might pull someday.

That stuff was still too far off.

At present, he still hadn't maxed out even the defensive stats from his Makélélé (late career) card.

And he had just drawn Valerón's short passing talent.

That alone would take all his focus and training time to fully develop.

As the saying goes: "Biting off more than you can chew only leads to indigestion."

Li Ang was smart. He knew his limits.

His system didn't allow him to directly assign stat points like some protagonists—his only option was a slow, grind-heavy evolution.

Fortunately, in this game, grinding and spending weren't mutually exclusive.

As long as he put in the effort, stayed consistent, and kept training his body to match his talent caps, he could still climb to the very top of world football—one step at a time.

He didn't mind taking a little longer.

All that mattered was having hope—and a path forward.

Compared to so many young players with no clear future or direction, Li Ang was already way ahead of the curve.

After a moment of thought, his attention shifted to the two new features: the Shop and the Item Draw.

He didn't have many points at the moment, but that didn't stop him from browsing.

As a holding midfielder, now that he had stamina recovery under control, the next priority was obvious: injury resistance.

So many talented players had their careers cut short by injuries.

Especially at his position—defensive midfield—he was involved in the top three in tackles and distance covered every match.

He couldn't afford to burn out before reaching his peak.

He wouldn't let his rise to the top be stopped by torn ligaments or chronic fatigue.

He made his decision on the spot.

No matter the cost, he would max out his injury resistance first.

He didn't need to be the hardest tackler.

He didn't need to be the flashiest passer.

He didn't even need to be the most technical player on the pitch.

But he would become the most durable.

No fragility.

No early retirements.

Just consistent, solid, high-level performances—week after week.

Grind.

Survive.

Endure.

That would be his path.

And that would be enough.

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