May 2001 – Madrid, Spain
The celebration lasted all night. Champagne flowed freely in the locker room, journalists scrambled for interviews, and my teammates sang at the top of their lungs, carried away by the thrill of victory.
Although I wasn't as excited as they were, I played my part, smiling for the cameras, toasting with the others, and even joining in on a few songs.
But my mind was elsewhere.
The system. Xabi Alonso. The future.
As soon as the celebrations began to wind down, I didn't waste any time and discreetly took my leave. A quick word to Del Bosque, a nod to Raúl, and I left the stadium.
The night sky of Madrid, which I had grown completely accustomed to, greeted me as I got into my car. Truthfully, I wasn't excited about winning the championship because, in the end, I wasn't the protagonist. On the other hand, thinking about the system and the prospect of acquiring the abilities of the future Xabi Alonso, my heart began to race with anticipation.
I had to get home.
The journey felt endless. Every red light was an unnecessary obstacle, every turn a waste of time. If at first I was full of ambition and had formulated a plan to succeed—though not entirely confident—now I was certain that as long as I didn't mess up, I could truly succeed.
When I finally arrived at my house, I felt more at ease. Unfortunately, this large house was empty because I had no companion, but as they say, it's better to be alone than to choose the wrong companion.
After closing the door, washing up, preparing a meal, and eating, I returned to my peak condition, and my attention turned back to the system.
[You have acquired a new model: Xabi Alonso (2010-2011). Would you like to integrate it now?]
After rereading the notification, I strangely calmed down before letting out a sigh. "Yes."
[Integration in progress… Estimated time: 8 hours. Side effects: muscle fatigue, temporary disorientation.]
Immediately, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. My body, which had been in top shape after a high-level season and a good meal, suddenly felt heavy, as if my blood had turned to lead. I barely managed to reach my bed before slipping into unconsciousness.
...
I woke up to the morning light filtering through the curtains, my body… different.
Not weaker. Not stronger. Just different.
The first thing I noticed was my balance. I sat up slowly, rolling my shoulders, flexing my hands. My body felt familiar, yet at the same time, foreign. I took a cautious step forward.
Then another.
Next, I turned sharply and kicked into the air, first with my left foot, then with my right.
Perfect.
There was no more hesitation, no more imbalance. As soon as my foot left the ground, I felt the shift in my center of gravity and adjusted naturally. It was thrilling.
I moved on to the most important test by taking a ball that had always been by my bedside and juggling it first with my left foot, which was my stronger foot, then with my right. No difference.
I dribbled around the furniture, making tight turns, controlling the ball from every possible angle. Before, my left foot had always been dominant. My right was decent, but never entirely natural. Now?
It was an incredible feeling, as if I had only just gained full control of my body. I could now do whatever I wanted with both feet.
Just because of this ambidextrous ability, I would be a player most coaches would want, not to mention my other skills.
When I woke up in this body, I had everything Guti had—his talent, his abilities, his memories, his knowledge. I had inherited everything from him, including his playing style.
Guti was the kind of midfield assassin who, given the slightest chance, would deliver an extraordinary pass that no one else could even think of, showcasing his genius.
In terms of killer passes, he was literally the best, with a vision of the game that was out of this world. Unfortunately, his peak came during the worst period for Madrid, with Florentino and his Galácticos.
His personality was also somewhat flamboyant. As a midfielder who frequented bars and such, if he had had even half the professionalism of Cristiano Ronaldo, he would have been a legend.
Regarding his playing style, apart from the potential to become the greatest passer in history, his ability to control and organize the game was somewhat of a weakness. It was only towards the end of his career that he developed this, leading a weak Real Madrid to win La Liga ahead of Ronaldinho's Barça and becoming the top assist provider in La Liga 2007-2008.
I, who had inherited all this talent and worked hard over the past few months, was naturally stronger than he was at the same stage.
18 goals and 7 assists in 2001—this was no joke. It earned me a direct call-up to the Spanish national team as a starter for the World Cup qualifiers.
Not only that, Real Madrid won the Spanish league and reached the Champions League semi-finals, unfortunately losing to Bayern Munich.
This is what makes me feel good because, if I remember Guti's biography correctly in 2025, he only played a total of 13 matches for the Spanish national team, which is considered his greatest regret.
Now, I've already played more than that, changing the course of history. It proves that I can truly achieve my ambition and that nothing is entirely set in stone.
Not only am I better than the original Guti, but by inheriting Xabi Alonso's abilities, my ability to organize and control the game has directly become my strength.
Xabi was known as the unflappable player, the kind no one should pressure. He was a true maestro in organizing and controlling the game.
His abilities make me an even more stable player. Now, apart from defense and goalkeeping, I can play in any position, even as a defensive midfielder or on either flank.
In terms of ability alone, the current me is definitely in the top 5, even if my reputation is far from that. If everything goes as planned and Real Madrid wins the Champions League next year, and I acquire the abilities of another player, I could even contend for the title of the best midfielder in the world.
But that's definitely not my ultimate goal. With the opportunity I have, my goal is naturally to contend for, or even become, the greatest player in history.
To do that, I'll need to achieve legendary feats—more legendary than those of future Messi and Ronaldo, or even Pelé, Maradona, Cruyff, and Beckenbauer in the past.
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Okay guys, don't forget to vote and see ya tomorrow