The largest slum in St. Paul is located on a hillside in the suburbs.

The uneven narrow alleyway, the messy temporary cover, the crooked telephone poles, and the messy lines.

This is the slum in Brazil.

Most of the people living here are engaged in door guards, security guards, delivery, sanitation, housekeeping, waiters, and even street tramps, and some people are engaged in the gray industry.

Because there are mixed here, there is constant noise for twenty-four hours a day.

The barking of dogs suddenly came from deep in the alley, the sound of motorcycles from residents who came out early and returned late, and the hawkers from intersections

It was early in the morning and it was dim.

In the room on the second floor of a simple bungalow on the hillside, a young man who woke up early was lying on the chaotic bed, quietly listening to the movement from outside.

His name is Marcossena.

They lived here since childhood, but the Marcos Senna brothers were different from other peers in the slums. They were sent to the St. Paul Football School by their parents since childhood and received regular football training.

Although he was soon forced to drop out of school because he was poor and could not afford the tuition, his study experience at the São Paulo Football School still made Marcos Senna a recognized person who is most promising to become a professional player by everyone in this slum.

Even three years ago, the moment before his father passed away, he was still thinking so.

Become a professional player, get a high salary, take your family away from this damn slum, and live in the opposite side of the road. That tall modern building is like a rich area like a paradise.

This is Marcossena's dream.

It's exactly the same as the countless young people in the slums.

But many times, fate is so strange.

He is very strong, strong, has strong running ability, and is very hard-working in the game. He can even do whatever he wants to grab a ball, but he just can't play well and is not liked.

From O'Bronco to Ameriga, and then to Corinthian, almost all coaches will say at first sight, wow, this kid is born to be a good piece of football.

But when he got off the court and played for a few minutes, they would shake their heads and say in a very regretful tone, it was a pity!

He knew what these coaches were sorry for.

It's a pity that he has such good physical fitness, but why don't he have those dazzling foot skills and those dazzling flying speed?

He didn't understand why God gave him such a body, but he didn't give him these things.

Perhaps, this is fate!

Since he played a few games in Corinthian a year ago, he has never had a chance to play again and has been completely thrown into the cold palace.

He hasn't played in the game for more than a year.

Although he has always believed that in his daily training, he is harder than anyone else and maintains his condition and body better than anyone else, but who should he say this?

His cousin who had already mixed into the first team in Rome, a famous Italian team, told him that players like him would get Europe, his style was suitable there and he would get a chance.

He believed, but he had no chance.

Asongsang also applied for several trials for him, but no one was willing to waste time on a player like him.

Brazil has too many football talents and he has no advantage.

He had no choice but to wait.

But he could feel that he was almost unable to wait.

Corinthian's management has notified him more than once, packing up his things and leaving, and don't think about reaping the allowance.

It can be seen that their lives are not easy.

Leaving seems to be a foregone conclusion, but where can we go?

Maybe you should leave Sao Paulo and try your luck with small teams in other cities.

No matter what, it is better than staying here?

Well, that's all I can do!

Marcossena climbed up from the bed and opened the wooden door leading to the balcony. A stream of cold air suddenly entered, but he exposed his strong body and walked up to the balcony, breathing the morning air, feeling refreshed.

Suddenly, a cell phone ringtone came from the room.

Senna's dark face frowned obviously, but she walked back quickly.

The caller was a well-known agent in the surrounding area he knew.

Although he often boasted that he had a good understanding and channels to do business for Ferger, Marcossena knew that he was just bragging, and there were countless people between him and the boss Ferger.

"Hey, Senna."

"Marcos, it's me, I'll tell you something very important."

"Well, what's the matter?"

"Do you remember the Portuguese partner I mentioned to you a few days ago?"

"Of course I remember." Marcos Senna complained in her heart, what partner?

At that time, he praised his Portuguese partner like a flower, saying that he was a famous Portuguese agent, so powerful that he was like an amazing figure.

But if he really has a Portuguese ace agent as a partner, he still needs to stay in the slums?

"He was looking for a midfielder before, and I recommended you, do you still remember?"

"Oh, remember, of course, I remember, is there any news?" Marcossena suddenly felt happy.

Portugal, a great place.

I don’t know how many Brazilian players go to Portugal every year and use Portugal as a springboard to enter the four major European leagues.

"Yes, I just received the news that he hopes you will set off immediately and go to Spain for a trial training."

"Spain?" Marcossena was stunned for a moment, "Isn't it Portugal?"

Although he hasn't read any books, at least he knows that Spain and Portugal are not the same place, okay?

"Uh," the other party was speechless, "I don't know the specific details very well, but what they mean is that a Spanish giant team fell in love with you and asked you to go to the trial."

"Spanish giants? Trial training?" Marcossena's eyes widened, her mouth was growing fast enough to stuff an egg into it.

Just him?

Will a player who hasn't played a professional game for more than a year be attracted by the Spanish giants?

Is this possible?

"Yes, soon, the faster the better." The person on the phone urged.

Marcossena shook her head and laughed, the faster the better, and it seemed like she was lying to others.

"Okay, okay, I'm not interested in any Spanish wealthy family, that's it!"

After saying that, he hung up the phone.

Just me? And Spanish wealthy families are more popular?

Marcossena himself found it unbelievable.

Even if you want to lie, please, at least be more professional, okay?

Do you really think I am the old men and women in the slums?

But when he got dressed and went to the balcony to brush his teeth and wash his face, the phone rang again.

This time it was a transnational call, so I don’t know where it came from.

Marcossena was a little puzzled.

"Hey, hello, Senna."

"Hello, Marcos, I am Jorge Mendez, the general manager of Gasdiford agency in Portugal."

Marcos Senna was stunned, Jorge Mendez?

Never heard of it.

But it's from Portugal, isn't it?

"Hello, Mr. Mendes."

"That's right. I have a cooperation with Mr. Ferger. Through his channels, I learned about your situation, but they told me that you are worried about being cheated, so I call you in person."

Marcos Senna smiled bitterly, not knowing how to deal with it.

"This trial was very urgent, and I caught myself off guard. I didn't expect why he fell in love with you."

This was very honest, but Marcos Senna believed it.

Because he knows his situation.

"The person who likes you is the head coach of the Spanish giant Atletico Madrid. Gao Han, you can check it online. They need a midfielder now. I have cooperated with them and recommend you. He invited you to try out."

Marcos Senna was immediately moved.

Did God appear?

But he is not those ignorant children, so he is still very cautious.
To be continued...