Sports Medicine Master System

At Phoenix Airport, Redondo, wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, waited at the arrivals gate.

He felt the sunglasses and cap were a bit much. This wasn’t Italy; no one would recognize him here.

Just then, a familiar figure appeared at the passenger exit.

Also wearing sunglasses, with flowing brown hair tied back by a headband, he pushed a luggage cart and strode out.

He had clearly spotted Redondo as well and waved immediately.

When they met, they looked at each other and simply gave a slight nod.

Redondo turned to embrace Batty’s wife, Irina, and asked how their children were.

"They’re doing well." Irina didn’t let go of Redondo right away, whispering a "thank you" in his ear.

As Batty’s wife, she knew her husband’s condition better than anyone.

The cartilage in his feet was completely worn down. Every step was a silent torment for Batty, especially after a match. The fans only cared about how many goals he scored, never knowing that back home, the pain was so bad he needed help just to get to the bathroom.

Not to mention, Batty often had to rely on painkillers and cortisone shots just to be able to play.

"It’s nothing."

Redondo let go of Irina and greeted Batty’s agent, Alonso.

"Let’s go."

The group got into the car and headed to the clinic.

Inside the spacious van, Redondo and Batty sat side by side, but there was little conversation.

After a long while, it was Batty who finally broke the silence. "Fernando, you’re so eager to introduce me to this doctor... aren’t you worried that if I get better, I’ll take Crespo’s spot next year?"

’I’m getting old, too.’

With the World Cup approaching, voices in Argentina were already suggesting his form had declined so much that he no longer deserved a starting position, which should go to the in-form Crespo instead.

And on the National Team, Redondo’s relationship with Crespo was better.

At least, better than his relationship with him.

Especially after the whole incident with the haircut.

He had caved to the pressure and cut his hair, while Redondo had resisted and kept his.

Although Redondo had never criticized him for it, the incident left a knot in Batty’s stomach.

He felt he hadn’t done anything wrong. Though he loved his long hair, he couldn’t give up the chance to fight for his country because of it.

But the media had called him a spineless coward, comparing him to Redondo.

Redondo shook his head. "I didn’t think that far ahead. I just feel that if this is our last World Cup, it would be a huge shame if you couldn’t participate—I mean, participate in good health."

Batty stared at Redondo, wondering if he was being sincere.

"Actually, I’ve always admired you," Redondo said with a small smile. "I still remember the first time we met. You were pretty chubby back then."

A flash of embarrassment crossed Batty’s eyes as he remembered that match.

"I remember you had Fabri and Diego’s younger brother. And we won. I scored two goals."

Redondo nodded. "That’s right. An unknown little team from Reconquista actually beat us. It was unbelievable."

Argentinos Juniors was a top-tier team in the league at the time.

It was like a local Phoenix basketball team forming and then beating the Lakers.

"Back then, Ugo told me you were incredible, that you might become a star like his brother. I was a little resentful at the time because I couldn’t stop you." Redondo chuckled, then added, "Later, it turned out Ugo was right. You became the best player in the world."

"One of them," Batty added, but his eyes couldn’t hide his pride.

In the world of soccer, who else besides him was called the War God?

Redondo said with a smile, "So, even if the War God is to take his final bow, shouldn’t it be a perfect one?"

Others might not know, but Redondo knew this would likely be Batty’s last World Cup.

If this was a hero’s final battle, he shouldn’t go into it burdened by baggage and old injuries, full of regret.

Batty’s expression wavered slightly. He snorted. "We’ll see if this Chen you’re talking about can even cure me."

Redondo reached out, patted Batty’s shoulder, and asked in return, "Then why did you come?"

Batty pursed his lips and said nothing.

After a pause, Batty asked again, "By the way, is Jordan at the clinic?"

Batty, who had been tall since childhood, didn’t actually start playing soccer until he was 11. Before that, he preferred basketball and volleyball.

And anyone who liked basketball knew who Jordan was.

"If you’d come one day later, you might have missed him. He’s planning to leave tomorrow." Jordan’s training was nearly complete, and he was preparing to head back to Washington.

Batty couldn’t help but sigh with emotion. "I can’t believe he’s making another comeback."

Soon, the car arrived at the clinic.

The group got out and went to the medical center. Batty looked around and complained, "Isn’t he even going to greet us?"

And there wasn’t a single reporter in sight.

In Italy, in Argentina, wherever he went, he was the center of attention.

If he went to a hospital, the hospital director himself would come out to welcome him.

But here...

Redondo said, "Get over it. Don’t forget you’re in the United States. They don’t care about soccer here. In Chen’s eyes, you’re just an ordinary patient. Be polite later, because he might be the only person in the world who can cure you."

Speaking of which, Redondo recalled the time he first came to the United States to find Chen Yu.

No one had ever dared to threaten him by refusing treatment like Chen Yu had.

But as proud and defiant as he was, he had eventually bowed his head.

And looking back now, Redondo didn’t regret the decision he made back then.

Batty didn’t speak, noncommittal.

At the medical center, Lexi received the group.

"Chen is in surgery. I’ll get you settled in first." Chen Yu was performing a patellar tendon repair surgery on McDyess.

This kind of treatment confirmed it for Batty: here, he wasn’t the world-famous War God Batty, just an ordinary patient.

But then again, he recalled that the "Alien" Ronaldo hadn’t received any special treatment here either, and he felt a little better.

In the operating room, Chen Yu used a drill to carefully trim and repair the edge of the patellar tendon. Then he drilled holes, used a special suture to pull the torn ligament taut and secure it, and finally used a suturing device to stitch the rupture.

It was a minimally invasive surgery.

Chen Yu knew full well that what would allow the ligament to recover completely wasn’t his surgical technique, but the system’s treatment effect.

Since that was the case, if he could choose a minimally invasive surgery with a smaller incision, why would he perform an open surgery with a large one?

’The damage to the player is also smaller this way, isn’t it?’

Under the Eye of All-Seeing, the ligament was stitched together. The ruptured capillaries within the ligament were already eagerly beginning to grow and reconnect.

’Diamond Level really is something else. The effect is instantaneous.’

Withdrawing the arthroscope, Chen Yu nodded to William, indicating that the subsequent external fixation was his job, and then left the operating room.

Batty had arrived today.

Meanwhile, Desler was scheduled to arrive tomorrow.

Hearing that Lexi had already arranged accommodations for Batty, Chen Yu didn’t go to see him. He took advantage of the free time to go grind for more experience.

With a few more patients, the demand for treatment effects in the rehabilitation area had increased again.

And as for treatment effects, if he could grind them up to Diamond Level, Chen Yu would much prefer to use that for its superior results.

After quickly finishing another minimally invasive surgery for a herniated disc, Chen Yu prepared to head to the US Airways Center.

Today was the last preseason game.

The Suns versus the Nuggets.

A few days later, the Suns’ season opener would also be against the Nuggets.

Skiles wanted to start the season with a win, so this game was being treated as a dress rehearsal for the opener.

The game was at 6 PM, but Su Jun arrived at the US Airways Center more than two hours early.

A number of other reporters from China were already there.

Today’s game was also the Nuggets’ final preseason match.

There was still no news on whether Bartel’s training camp contract would be converted to a regular contract, or if he would be able to stay in the NBA at all.

"I actually think the Nuggets’ management is interested in Bartel. After all, McDyess is out for the season, and any team in the West that wants to make a splash needs to stock up on a big man strong enough to go up against O’Neal," analyzed Xu Jicheng, a correspondent from Xinhua News Agency.

Su Jun agreed with the analysis, then added, "The trouble now is back home. Bartel has to return to China next month for the National Games. I have no idea what Old Xia and Shougang have been discussing."

As the reporters gathered and exchanged information, the mood grew more and more somber.

"Well, let’s not dwell on it. We’ve done all we can; the rest is up to fate," Su Jun said with a final long sigh, putting an end to the heavy topic.

It was about time, so the group prepared to head to the player tunnel to intercept the Nuggets players.

Just then, Zhang Yi, a reporter from *Basketball* magazine, ran over, panting, and shared a piece of news.

Jordan was coming to watch the game in person.

"Now that you mention it, I almost forgot Jordan is still in Phoenix," Su Jun said, realization dawning on him.

In fact, after they finished their coverage of the Nuggets, they were planning to head to Washington.

The Wizards’ and Knicks’ season opener had already become the most watched game in the entire United States.

Originally, the attendance for today’s game was expected to be average.

It was just a preseason game, after all.

But Jordan’s surprise appearance made the fans who had bought tickets feel like they’d hit the jackpot.

On the court, a casually dressed Jordan embraced Hardaway, Ewing, and the others.

"What’s Hakeem doing?" Jordan asked Ewing, pointing to Olajuwon on the sideline, who was practicing Five Animals Qigong.

Ewing asked back, "Weren’t you just at Chen’s clinic? Don’t you know what Five Animals Qigong is?"

"Of course I know what it is. I just don’t get why he’s still practicing it right now, with so many people watching." Jordan certainly knew about Five Animals Qigong.

At one point, Chen Yu had arranged for him to practice it as well.

Jordan had refused with a vehemence that bordered on threatening to die.

In any case, he just couldn’t accept doing those monkey-like movements with his arms tucked in.

Now, with plenty of fans in their seats and reporters on the sidelines, Olajuwon was practicing as if no one was there. It was so embarrassing.

Ewing shrugged. "He doesn’t care, and he enjoys it. What can we do?"

Jordan noticed that many reporters were taking pictures of Olajuwon. He shivered and didn’t ask any more questions.

Meanwhile, Su Jun and the others, having just arrived on the scene, saw Jordan and also spotted Olajuwon on the sideline.

"That’s Olajuwon, right? What’s he doing?" Xu Jicheng asked, pointing blankly toward the court.

Su Jun and the others looked at each other. It seemed to be some kind of warm-up exercise, but the more they looked, the more familiar the movements seemed.

"Is that... Five Animals Qigong?" Su Jun said uncertainly.

His old man would wander around the park in his free time, and he’d seen plenty of old folks practicing this traditional fitness routine there himself.

But this was the United States!

Seeing the nearly 39-year-old Olajuwon, at the twilight of his career, practicing Five Animals Qigong like an old man, Su Jun was suddenly reminded of the nickname American reporters had given the Suns.

’This really is a team of the old, weak, sick, and disabled!’