Don Lorenzo

Standing 190 centimeters, Lorenzo cuts a lean, lanky figure with unusually long limbs. Purple irises match the dyed tips of his messy dark green hair, which sweeps toward the right side of his face. A set of signature golden teeth, a gift from Snuffy, glints whenever he grins. For Ubers he pulls on the black and white striped number two shirt.

Money rules Lorenzo's worldview. He is convinced nothing lies beyond the reach of cash and pays attention only to people who carry real value, and even then only if they are strong. That fixation traces back to a wretched childhood: born into poverty and cast aside by his parents, he survived on the streets by conning strangers out of their coins until he gave up on living altogether. Marc Snuffy found him at that low point and offered a way out in exchange for football, footing the bill for the golden teeth Lorenzo now wears. The gratitude runs deep, and he leaps to Snuffy's defense whenever anyone slights him.

Away from that materialism, Lorenzo is loud, cheerful, and unbothered by appearances, forever making a mess of the popcorn he snacks on. He backs his teammates, trades small talk with Baro during breaks, and owns up to his failures, even praising the chemistry between Isagi and Hiori that sank his own side. He treats Kaiser as a cherished rival, shadowing him so tightly it borders on stalking, and hailed the German's Magnus goal as a masterpiece worth 500 million. A verbal tic has him tacking the word okay onto the end of his sentences.

Lorenzo plays as a libero, the free-roaming sweeper who mops up whatever slips past the defensive line. The role rewards his sharp reading of the match, his composure on the ball, and his vision for launching moves from deep. His frame helps too: elongated arms, neck, and legs let him reach passes ahead of markers and fend off anyone trying to poke the ball loose.

His trademark is a dribble so disjointed that upper and lower body move in total disagreement, hiding his center of gravity and leaving defenders unable to read him, which earned the Zombie label. On the other end he is a nightmare for strikers. Precise positioning, spatial awareness, and near-instant intuition let him strangle plays before they take shape, and his man-marking produces pinpoint interceptions, including the moment he stunned Kaiser by reading and stealing away his Kaiser Impact. Long, audacious lunges round out an arsenal that flips defense straight into fast counterattacks.