The gentle patter of rain against the pavement was a soothing rhythm as Leon Fischer walked through the quiet streets of Birmingham. It wasn't a heavy downpour, just a soft, persistent drizzle that made the streetlights glow with a hazy warmth.

He pulled his hoodie tighter, enjoying the solitude, the chance to simply think.

He thought about his life, this second life, which had begun so abruptly when he woke up as a ten-year-old Leon.

He remembered the confusion, the fear, and then the dawning realization of his unique 'sight'.

He walked past familiar shops, past the park where he'd first practiced with his new body, trying to control the ball, trying to understand the ghostly projections.

He thought about the academy, the early mornings, the endless drills, the moments of frustration, and the breakthroughs.

Aston Villa. The club that had given him everything. He remembered his debut, the nervous excitement, the first goal, the first assist. He thought of John McGinn's jokes, Ollie Watkins's clinical finishes, Douglas Luiz's calm presence. He remembered Coach Emery's unwavering belief, his fiery speeches, his quiet nods of approval.

He thought about Alex Turner, the boy he'd found in the rain, with his astonishing 'Potential: 95', now a rapidly developing talent. He thought about Mark Johnson, the hidden gem he'd helped get to Arsenal, now a Premier League champion. He thought about Byon, his best friend, his rival, his partner in FIFA battles and Champions League dreams.

He had led Villa to 4th place, secured Champions League football, topped the Premier League assist charts. He had bought his mom a new house, a beautiful home with a big garden. He was a world-renowned player at sixteen. It was all so much, so fast, so utterly incredible. He had achieved more in six years of this life than he ever could have imagined in his previous one.

Best in the world, his mom's words echoed in his mind. Win the Champions League. Those were the next steps. The ultimate goals. And with his 'Analyze Player Stats' feature, he felt even more equipped to achieve them.

Lost in his thoughts, Leon almost bumped into a man walking in the opposite direction.

The man was tall, with sharp, intelligent eyes and a distinguished, almost aristocratic air. He wore a stylish, dark overcoat, and carried a slim briefcase. He looked familiar, but Leon couldn't quite place him.

The man paused, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at Leon. A slow smile spread across his face. "Leon Fischer, I presume?"

Leon, startled, nodded. "Yes. And you are...?"

He tried to use his 'sight', but the man's 'Current' and 'Potential' ratings were oddly obscured, like a faint blur, as if he wasn't a "player" in the traditional sense.

"My apologies," the man said, his voice smooth, with a distinct Italian accent. "You might not know me. But I certainly know you, young man. Everyone in football knows Leon Fischer now. Your performances have been... extraordinary." He extended a hand. "My name is Cristian Chivu."

Leon's eyes widened in recognition. Cristian Chivu! The legendary defender, now a manager. He'd seen clips of him playing for Inter Milan, for Roma.

"Cristian Chivu!" Leon exclaimed, shaking his hand firmly. "It's an honor, sir!"

Chivu chuckled. "The honor is mine, Leon. You're quite the phenomenon. Are you in a hurry? Perhaps we could step into that cafe? I'd like to talk to you, if you have a moment."

He gestured to a small, cozy cafe nearby, its windows glowing invitingly in the rain.

Leon hesitated for a moment. His 'sight' still couldn't get a clear read on Chivu's "player" stats, which was unusual, but his instincts told him this was important. "Of course, Mr. Chivu. I have time."

They walked into the cafe, found a quiet corner table, and ordered two hot chocolates. Chivu leaned forward, his gaze intense.

"Leon," Chivu began, his voice dropping slightly. "I am the new manager of Inter Milan."

Leon's eyebrows shot up. Inter Milan! A giant of Italian football, a Champions League winner. He remembered them from the Champions League quarter-final draw.

"Congratulations, Mr. Chivu," Leon said, genuinely impressed.

"Thank you," Chivu replied. "And I'm here because I want you, Leon. I want you at Inter Milan."

Leon stared, surprised. He'd been expecting Real Madrid, maybe City. But Inter?

"Inter Milan is a great club, Mr. Chivu," Leon said carefully. "But I've just qualified for the Champions League with Aston Villa. And I'm very happy there."

Chivu smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "I know, Leon. And what you have achieved with Villa is truly remarkable. But let me be frank. Inter Milan is a club with a rich history, but we are in a period of transition. We have many experienced players, yes, but we need fresh blood. We need the future. We need wonderkids."

He leaned closer, his voice earnest. "My tactic, Leon, is to build a team around young, exceptional talent. Players with immense 'Potential', players who can grow into superstars. Players like you. I believe in building from the ground up, with a core of the brightest young talents in the world."

Leon listened. He thought about Inter's squad, their 'Current' ratings. Chivu was right; they did have a lot of older, experienced players.

"I see your point, Mr. Chivu," Leon said, considering it. "But... why me? Why Inter?"

"Because you are unique, Leon," Chivu replied, his gaze unwavering. "Your vision, your understanding of the game, your ability to influence matches at such a young age... it is unparalleled. You are the kind of player I want to build my team around. You are the future of football. And Inter Milan, under my guidance, will be the perfect place for you to truly become the best in the world."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "I know you have other offers, other interests. Real Madrid, perhaps. But think about it, Leon. At Inter, you would be the cornerstone. The leader of a new generation. You would have the freedom to truly express yourself, to grow, to lead us back to the top of Europe. I want you to be the heart of my project."

Leon felt a thrill. The idea of being the "cornerstone," the "leader of a new generation" at a club like Inter, was incredibly appealing. It was a different kind of challenge than joining an already established super-team like Real Madrid. It was a chance to build something.

"It's a very interesting proposal, Mr. Chivu," Leon said, his mind racing. "I... I will think about it. I need to talk to my agent, my family. It's a big decision."

Chivu nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. "Of course, Leon. Take your time. But know this: Inter Milan wants you. And I believe, with you, we can achieve great things.

We can conquer Europe again." He stood up, extending his hand. "Thank you for your time, Leon. I look forward to hearing from you."

As Chivu left the cafe, Leon sat there, hot chocolate growing cold, his mind a whirlwind. Inter Milan.

A new manager, a new project, a chance to be the leader. It was a completely unexpected turn. Real Madrid was the dream, the ultimate destination. But Inter offered a different path, a chance to build, to truly lead from the front. The transfer window was about to open, and Leon Fischer, the sixteen-year-old wonderkid, was now at the center of a very exciting, very complicated, and very fun decision.