The locker room still buzzed with energy after the win, voices overlapping as players rehashed every detail from the match. Ali was still teasing Noah about finally scoring while Mateo mimicked the exaggerated goal celebration of the opposing keeper after missing his save.
But when Coach Vermeer walked in, the noise tapered to silence like someone had flicked a switch. He stepped into the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back, letting the weight of his presence settle before speaking.
"Good win," Vermeer began, voice calm but commanding. "You played with discipline. You stayed compact when PSV pressed, and when the opportunities came, you finished them. Noah—" his gaze found Noah and locked there, "—that pass? That's the kind of decision-making we've been working toward."
Noah felt heat climb into his cheeks and simply nodded. Compliments from Vermeer didn't come easily, which made them all the heavier.
"Celebrate now, because when we wake up tomorrow, we move on. Tomorrow's opponent is RB Salzburg Youth, and they're nothing like PSV."
He walked over to the tactics board, pulling magnets into a different shape—one that represented Salzburg's signature 4-2-2-2 formation. "PSV pressed, yes, but they pressed reactively. Salzburg presses proactively and chaotically. They hunt in pairs and triples, trying to win the ball high. They don't want you to settle, they want to overwhelm you."
Noah leaned forward, studying the formation. The two forward magnets were pushed higher up, wide players pinched inward, with a staggered midfield line behind.
"They'll try to choke this area here," Vermeer tapped the half-spaces on either side of the central circle, "and they'll collapse on you, Carter, the moment you turn. That means one thing—you need to be faster. No hesitation. Either switch play quickly or beat them before they close."
Thomas Van Loon raised his hand, voice steady. "Coach, how's their backline?"
Vermeer nodded slightly. "Vulnerable if you isolate them. Their left center-back is aggressive but sometimes overcommits. That means diagonal runs, quick releases, and trust. Ali, Mateo—your job is to pull their backline apart and force them to defend spaces they don't like."
He paused and circled one player's name on the board: Lukas Kessler. "This is their heartbeat. He's seventeen, already linked with multiple Bundesliga clubs. He covers ridiculous ground, dictates their pressing triggers, and isn't afraid to shoot from thirty yards. Shut him down, and Salzburg's rhythm breaks."
Noah could already feel the pressure, but Vermeer wasn't done. "And Carter—expect him on you. He'll shadow you because he's their best transitional marker. That means this match isn't just about passing vision. It's about controlling tempo while under constant harassment. If you can break him, we break Salzburg."
They left the locker room and headed toward the bus that would take them back to the hotel. The mood was focused now, celebration giving way to quiet determination. On the ride, Noah sat next to Ali, who leaned back with headphones on.
"You realize you just set the bar for yourself, right?" Ali said, pulling one earbud out.
"Yeah," Noah replied softly. "Feels… weird."
"Weird's good," Ali grinned. "Means you're waking up."
Behind them, Mateo and Thomas debated Salzburg's defensive spacing while Leo Jensen read quietly, headphones blocking out the noise.
That evening, the team gathered in a small conference room converted into a makeshift film room. The projector flickered on, displaying clips from Salzburg's last three matches.
"Watch their triggers," Vermeer said as he paused the screen on a moment when Salzburg's forwards pounced on a hesitant midfielder. "They don't press every touch—they press your second touch, your hesitation. Look at this."
The clip rolled again, showing the opponent's midfielder taking one extra second to scan before passing, and instantly three Salzburg players swarmed him, forcing a turnover and scoring seconds later.
"Carter, that's what you'll see. If you don't know your decision before the ball arrives, they'll eat you alive. So tomorrow? Pre-plan your next move before it even touches your foot."
He shifted the footage to Lukas Kessler's highlights—perfectly timed interceptions, quick distribution, and one audacious thirty-yard goal. "This is who you'll see most often. He's fast, he's physical, and he has a motor that doesn't quit. Beat him once, he comes back twice as hard. But—" Vermeer rewound to a clip of Kessler being bypassed by a quick one-two, "—he gambles. If you can bait him and release early, he'll leave space behind."
Noah watched silently, absorbing every detail, his Console faintly flickering in the corner of his vision:
[New Data Detected: Lukas Kessler – Press Aggression Pattern Stored]
[Suggested Skill Synergy: Early Pass Trigger → Passing Precision Boost]
When the session ended, players dispersed into small groups. Some lingered, asking questions; others slipped out to the lounge.
In the hotel hallway later that night, Noah found himself sitting with Leo and Ali near the vending machine.
"You nervous?" Leo asked quietly, sipping from a water bottle.
"Yeah," Noah admitted. "This team presses like crazy. Feels like I'm going to have to decide before I even see the ball."
"That's football," Leo said simply. "You'll adjust. Trust your instincts—you have those for a reason."
Ali leaned against the wall, grinning. "Besides, you got me. Just aim one of those laser passes like today and we're fine."
Noah chuckled lightly, though inside he still felt the weight of expectation. His powered weighted pass from the PSV game replayed in his mind—the crowd's reaction, Vermeer's look of surprise.
"You're thinking too much again," Leo said knowingly.
"Maybe," Noah admitted.
"Good. Means you care."
As Noah got back to his room, he sat on his bed and opened his tablet, rewatching the clips of Iniesta he had downloaded weeks ago. This time he studied not just the elegance, but the quickness of decision—how Iniesta anticipated pressure before it arrived, how he pivoted his body to create angles before defenders even closed him down.
For the first time, he wasn't watching as a fan. He was studying as someone who needed to solve a problem tomorrow.
The Console flickered softly:
[Training Tip Activated – Fast Decision Simulation Unlocked]
[Temporary Bonus: +3% Anticipation Speed vs. Salzburg]
Noah exhaled, lying back. The room was quiet except for Ali's faint music from the next room. Tomorrow wasn't going to be easy, but for the first time, he wanted the challenge.
The next morning, before breakfast, Vermeer stopped by Noah's table. "Sleep well?"
"Mostly," Noah replied, rubbing his eyes.
"Good. Because today's about belief and execution. Yesterday you proved you can make a difference. Today you prove it wasn't a one-off. Believe in your teammates, and more importantly, believe in yourself. Do that, and Salzburg won't know what hit them."
Noah nodded firmly. "Yes, coach."