The car arrived in the Mitte District in central Berlin, finally stopping in front of a heavily secured hospital.
This was the Federal Military Hospital.
It was a military hospital, not normally open to the public.
But this time, Beckenbauer planned to turn it into the designated hospital for the World Cup. Any injured player would be sent here for treatment.
Chen Yu was inwardly against the plan.
’It’s not that centralized treatment is a problem; that definitely has its advantages. The problem is that this hospital has been around for decades, and it’s always served the military. It receives few patients, so the doctors have very little clinical experience.’
’In fact, most doctors in the West have limited clinical experience.’
’Back in China, Chen Yu had been deeply impressed by how doctors could see a patient every five minutes.’
’It wasn’t a matter of being careless.’
’Seeing a patient every five minutes, hundreds a day, allowed them to accumulate an incredible amount of clinical experience.’
’And for a doctor, experience is crucial.’
That was the first point.
Second, the hospital’s facilities were limited. Some of the equipment wasn’t state-of-the-art, and there was no dedicated VIP ward. If players were admitted, they might have to stay in the same areas as regular patients.
It wasn’t that the players’ lives were more valuable, but if conditions allowed, Chen Yu still hoped they could receive a better treatment environment.
Finally, there was the issue of distance.
Besides Berlin, there were eleven other stadiums scattered across different cities, with the farthest being several hundred kilometers away.
If a player got injured and had to be sent here for further examination and treatment, it would put the on-site emergency response to the test. Chen Yu would remember what happened to Vivian Foe for the rest of his life.
So, making this the designated hospital for the World Cup wasn’t a problem in itself, but the supporting measures had to be properly implemented.
The convoy arrived in grand style.
"Who’s that?"
As they passed by on the street outside the hospital, Chen Yu caught a glimpse of a man with a rather large promotional poster set up in front of him.
The main subject on the poster was a middle-aged doctor, surrounded by many other photos. Chen Yu thought he even saw the boxing champion Ali among them.
Beckenbauer glanced over and snorted. "A clown."
As he spoke, he turned his head and whispered a few words to his assistant.
The car entered the hospital grounds.
The European "divine doctor," Muller-Wolffat, with whom Chen Yu had kept in touch, was already waiting.
Chen Yu’s subordinate, Dr. Randy Duran, and others were also present.
"Chen!"
Wolffat immediately came forward and gave Chen Yu a warm hug.
The last time they had seen each other was at a European medical conference last year.
After exchanging greetings, the group was about to enter the hospital when a commotion erupted from the street just over the wall.
Chen Yu looked toward the sound. It was likely the same man who had been setting up the poster on the street earlier. He was being driven away by hospital security, and a conflict had broken out.
He was shouting, but since he was speaking German, Chen Yu could only understand a few of the simplest words.
"Who is he?" Chen Yu asked.
Wolffat, who seemed to know the man’s identity, snorted. "A charlatan."
Seeing Chen Yu’s confusion, he explained, "That guy must be one of Kurt Schweinberger’s people. Schweinberger calls himself a miracle doctor, but he’s just a fraud."
At the mention of the name, Wolffat’s face filled with unconcealed resentment.
"He has his own theory. First, he gives the patient a ’holographic magnetic field photograph,’ then uses the imaging results to determine if there are problems with the patient’s microcirculation and internal magnetic field."
"If there’s a problem, he has the patient drink water that has been magnetized under a specific mineral magnetic field. He claims that all the patient’s bodily functions will then be rebalanced and optimized."
"Chen, isn’t that ridiculous?"
"But so many people believe him, like Flins, Heathfield, and even my poor Adi. He actually believes in this theory too."
Chen Yu frowned as he listened.
’Curing illnesses just by drinking some magnetized water? That’s ridiculous.’
’And yet, people actually believed it.’
Flins was the German national player Torsten Frings. Chen Yu was even more familiar with Heathfield, the former head coach of Bayern and a famous German manager.
As for Adi, that was Wolffat’s old partner, Adi Kassenmeier, a Massage Therapist who had worked with the German National Team for many years.
’That old man, too... He’s over seventy, how can he still believe in this nonsense?’
Of course, Wolffat despising Schweinberger was a bit like the pot calling the kettle black.
He himself had his own medical theory outside of mainstream treatment methods. His injection therapy, which involved injecting injured athletes with things like bull’s blood and cockscomb extract, was also questionable.
In comparison, Chen Yu’s Acupuncture therapy at least had a clear lineage of several thousand years and was genuinely effective.
For example, the National Team’s doctor, Yan Cheng, was known as the team’s "Number One Divine Needle" and had profound skill in Acupuncture.
During the 2000 AFC Asian Cup, national team defender Zhang Enhua had a severe back injury and couldn’t even stand up straight. It was Yan Cheng who, with just four needles, produced an immediate effect that allowed Zhang Enhua to make it to the match.
Yan Shiduo once had facial paralysis, and Yan Cheng had cured him with needles as well.
He really had his own effective methods when it came to Acupuncture and treating common orthopedic injuries.
That was because he had started out as the dedicated team doctor for the national martial arts team, specializing in treating sprains and bruises.
When Chen Yu had gone to China before, he had sought him out for an exchange and learned a great deal.
"So why did he come here?" Chen Yu asked, puzzled.
He could have gone anywhere else, but he chose to set up a poster right here. Wasn’t that a direct challenge to Wolffat?
Wolffat replied with a helpless expression, "He probably found out this place is going to be the designated hospital for the World Cup and came here to promote himself on purpose. With the World Cup about to start, someone might just fall for it."
Chen Yu understood. He said to Beckenbauer, "Franz, for the sake of the players, you should really find a way to deal with this potential problem. His kind of crooked, unorthodox treatment methods will only delay proper medical care for the players."
"By the way, I heard about another therapy recently."
Chen Yu recalled something and said, "In Serbia, there’s also a so-called ’divine doctor,’ I think her name is Kovacevic. She only got her Ph.D. in pharmacology in ’03 and then developed a brand-new therapy for treating muscles and skin."
"But do you know what she uses? Extracts from horse placenta and amniotic fluid."
"Let’s not even discuss whether it’s effective or not. The very act of trying to implement this therapy without extensive clinical trials, and having already used it on players from some Serbian clubs, is an extremely risky thing to do."
It wasn’t that Chen Yu was saying the therapy was inherently flawed. In traditional Chinese medicine, horse placenta itself is a medicinal ingredient believed to warm the kidneys, replenish essence, and enrich and circulate blood.
In theory, it could be somewhat helpful for muscle recovery.
But its use really has to be considered in the context of the patient’s overall condition. It’s not something you can just turn into an extract and use as a cure-all.
Now that the World Cup was approaching, all sorts of charlatans were coming out of the woodwork.
Beckenbauer nodded and said he would find a way to handle it.
Wolffat, however, smiled wryly. "Chen, you can’t really avoid this kind of thing. And actually, I think it has something to do with you."
"With me?"
Chen Yu was taken aback.
Wolffat nodded. "You’re far away in the United States, and you’ve been very busy these past two years. You can’t spare much time in a year to treat players. Most importantly, your treatments are very expensive; many players can’t afford them. Schweinberger’s magnetized water, on the other hand, sells for only 89 Euro a bottle."
"I think many players believe him simply on the off-chance that it might work. Then, if they happen to recover, they assume it was his magnetized water that did the trick."
Schweinberger sells his "miracle water" for less than a hundred Euro a bottle.
But getting treated by Chen Yu? The starting price is in the hundreds of thousands to millions of US dollars. If you weren’t a top-tier star, you really couldn’t afford it.

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