Chapter 150: Focusing Only on the Present

At halftime, Napoli held a one-goal lead over their opponents, yet the players were far from satisfied with the scoreline. They desired a resounding victory—only a flawless, exhilarating triumph would suffice as a fitting tribute to the joyous news of Napoli restoring its historic name. Although Napoli's first-half performance had completely overwhelmed their rivals, it was simply not enough; a single goal was far from sufficient.

Consequently, as the second half commenced, Napoli's players intensified their attacks. Rather than acting like seasoned veterans who, having secured a lead in previous matches, would rely on experience and technique to slow down the tempo and coast to an easy victory, they maintained the blistering pace of the first half. Their objective was to crush the opposing defense with ferocious assaults and secure a comprehensive blowout win.

Given Napoli's current strength, they were indeed peerless in Serie C1. While Avellino's players had initially managed a stubborn resistance fueled by derby morale and physical stamina, by the second half their adrenaline had largely evaporated, and their energy levels were plummeting rapidly. They had very little left in their arsenal to fend off Napoli.

Ten minutes into the second half, Pia collected Sosa's headed knockdown, surged into the penalty area, and unleashed a shot. Though the goalkeeper managed to parry it away with a desperate dive, Calaiò reacted quickest in the box, stabbing home the rebound at the first opportunity.

Already two goals ahead, Napoli showed no intention of easing up. They sustained immense pressure on the opposition's goal. Finding it increasingly difficult to withstand the onslaught, Avellino's players resorted to rougher tactics, committing three fouls within the space of five minutes. Two of these challenges targeted Sosa, while the other was aimed at Fontana, who had been on the receiving end of the ball the most.

Reya watched with a twinge of concern. Neither of the two veterans possessed robust physiques and could scarcely endure such punishment. With five matches remaining after this fixture, the most conservative estimates suggested Napoli still required six points to guarantee promotion, and Reya would continue to rely on their strength in the upcoming fixtures.

"Long! Nicolas! Go warm up. Get ready to come on!" Reya turned and shouted to the two young men sitting together.

Long Bisheng and Amodio exchanged a glance, shouted "Yes!" in unison, and bolted from the bench to begin their warm-up exercises on the touchline.

"Long, I think I understand what you meant by those words at halftime!" Amodio remarked to Long Bisheng as he stretched his legs. "Uncle Fontana probably won't continue playing next season. As long as I perform well, there's a real hope for a regular starting spot!"

Long Bisheng smiled. "That's exactly what I meant!"

Thirty-five-year-old Fontana and thirty-year-old Sosa represented Napoli's present.

Twenty-two-year-old Amodio and seventeen-year-old Long Bisheng represented Napoli's future.

Youth will inevitably supersede age, provided one is willing to put in the effort.

Napoli made a double substitution: Long Bisheng replaced Sosa, and Amodio replaced Fontana. Throughout the match, Sosa had been the primary target of the opposition's marking and had absorbed the brunt of the tackles; Reya did not wish to risk any further trouble for Sosa's fragile knees in the remaining matches. Meanwhile, Fontana had expended a vast amount of energy during the intense running of the first half, rendering his continued impact on the pitch limited.

While Long Bisheng and Amodio naturally fell short of the two veterans in terms of experience and match management, their advantages lay in youth, boundless thrust, and vitality. They were better equipped to extend the lead now that the team was already ahead.

Although Amodio lacked Fontana's capacity to dictate the game's tempo, he could generate chaos in the opponent's penalty area through extensive coverage and incisive penetration. Long Bisheng, on the other hand, relied on his exceptional physical attributes to go toe-to-toe with the opposition's increasingly aggressive defenders. He neither feared physical contact nor collisions; fresh off the bench and brimming with energy, his relentless charges fractured an opposing backline that was already beginning to crumble.

Recalling the aura and intimidation Sosa had displayed on the pitch, Long Bisheng pushed himself to become more aggressive, meeting every challenge, aerial duel, and leap with fearless determination. Through sheer physical dominance, he forced the opposing defenders to instinctively think of evasion rather than charging in to challenge him.

"Long's playing style seems to have shifted slightly." Seeing Long Bisheng use sheer force to muscle past two opposing defenders in mid-air and, despite losing his balance, still manage a brilliant header that forced the goalkeeper into a desperate save, the assistant coach asked Reya with a hint of perplexity.

"It has indeed changed, and for the better." What the assistant coach could perceive, Reya certainly had not missed. "It seems he is learning from Roberto. In previous matches, while Long was outstanding and ran tirelessly, he appeared somewhat too well-behaved in physical duels, which suited his temperament. But now he is beginning to change. An increasingly aggressive striker is precisely what I want to see. An intimidating forward can strike terror into the hearts of opponents simply by standing on the pitch."

"Such intimidation isn't something one is born with," the assistant coach said after a moment of thought, frowning slightly.

"Indeed, it is not innate; it must be accumulated through goal after goal on the pitch," Reya said with a smile. "Long's shooting accuracy still needs improvement. Most of his goals are spectacular, yet he occasionally fails to convert simpler chances. He is a heavy tank, but not yet an assassin capable of delivering a fatal blow. That is why I chose not to fast-track him—someone younger and physically superior—into the primary starting role, choosing instead to continue trusting Roberto."

"He can serve as a catalyst, helping others solve problems, but he is not yet the one who solves them himself," Reya concluded. "And a central striker, in my mind, must not only help others solve problems but also resolve situations independently when everyone else fails. He still requires learning and the accumulation of experience. Unfortunately, I can only hope that by the time he matures, I still have him."

"For a young player of this caliber, keeping him requires just a word from you..." the assistant coach asked with surprise.

"No, it's not nearly that simple," Reya interrupted. "Long is still young, not yet seventeen, but he possesses the potential to become an exceptional central striker. Tactically and technically, he doesn't need much reinforcement because he already possesses the physique of a mature player—perhaps even surpassing it. Aside from refining his close-control technique and decisiveness in front of goal, what he needs is experience—vast quantities of diverse matches to nourish his development. I can afford him playing time for the remainder of this season, and perhaps the next... But what if we reach Serie A? You are well aware of Serie A's ruthlessness. Unless he can develop the capability to play in Serie A within the next two years, it will be extremely difficult for him to secure playing time at Napoli. In that case, he would have no choice but to seek a club where he can play regularly. Don't forget, he is merely on loan to us. I have heard of his parent club, Yunjian Tianyu; it is a remarkable institution that does not sell players purely for financial gain. Whether a player receives adequate development is a crucial consideration for them. I can guarantee that if Long does not get sufficient competitive seasoning during these eighteen months of his loan, Yunjian Tianyu will never transfer him to us permanently."

The assistant coach nodded subconsciously. Indeed, although Napoli currently languished in Serie C, given their current trajectory of development, appearing in Serie B next season was merely a matter of time. With a president like De Laurentiis—who possessed both financial muscle and ambition—and a shrewd, well-connected manager like Marino within Italian football circles, Napoli would certainly not linger in Serie B. In truth, what Napoli had previously lacked was a wealthy president and a competent operator; now possessing both, playing in Serie C was like swimming in a goldfish bowl for Napoli, whereas returning to Serie A meant returning to the open ocean.

Next season, Napoli's objective would undoubtedly be promotion to Serie A. Although De Laurentiis had proposed two five-year plans upon taking over Napoli—achieving promotion to Serie A within five years, followed by establishing a world-class powerhouse within another five years—everyone knew that accomplishing the first goal would take nowhere near five years.

Consequently, Reya's burden next season would be immense, and his primary consideration would be results. Long Bisheng would likely not be afforded such abundant developmental opportunities next season, and those opportunities would dwindle even further upon reaching Serie A. Therefore, Napoli's future blueprints did not necessarily include a place for Long Bisheng.

"Never mind, let's focus on the present..." Reya sighed. "There are not many great players in the world, but there are plenty with potential. Future matters can be dealt with in the future. I will treat all the players under my command equally. As for their futures... that is not for me to ponder."

Silence fell upon the assistant coach, his eyes returning to Long Bisheng as the young man sprinted across the turf.

On the pitch, Grava delivered a cross from the flank, and Long Bisheng leaped high in the center of the penalty area, powerfully heading the ball toward the bottom right corner of the net!

The goalkeeper's desperate, outstretched hand failed to reach the ball, which struck the inside of the post and bounced into the net!

"Brilliant!" Reya vaulted to his feet, raised his hands high, and sprinted toward the touchline. His team now led the derby three to nil!

The assistant coach chased after him, thinking as he ran: *Indeed, let's focus on the present...*

Ultimately, Napoli triumphed four to nil in the derby at the Stadio San Paolo, extending their lead at the top to ten points. With five matches remaining in the league campaign, promotion was virtually assured.