The green field now felt like a courtroom of life decisions.
The sun was already slanting westward, lengthening the shadows of the participants standing neatly in rows. Ten had made it to the finals, but only three would be selected.
Three who would fly to the Netherlands.
Three who would change their families' futures.
Three who would fight in a completely new world.
And Richard… was still trying to comprehend the fact that he had just defeated Dhio—the academy's golden boy—in front of the Utrecht coach's eyes.
But the selection wasn't over yet.
---
Coaches Gather in the Middle of the Field
Three foreign coaches, one analyst, and one translator were in heated discussion. Notepads were exchanged, and a video replay of the duel was played back on a tablet. Out of the corner of his eye, Richard saw them slow down the moment he used his micro-sprint, analyzing his footwork.
One of the coaches pointed, as if asking:
"Is this kid's speed normal?"
Richard swallowed.
His system was a secret.
He had to guard it fiercely.
The atmosphere was tense.
All the players were silent, no one daring to speak.
The afternoon breeze caressed their faces. And each second felt like torture.
---
Dhio's Emotional Explosion
Dhio stood a few meters away from Richard. His breathing was still ragged, his face red. He still couldn't believe the outcome of the duel.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered.
Richard didn't respond.
"Are you on doping?" Dhio asked, his voice low but sharp.
Richard turned, his gaze cold.
"If I'm on doping," he said quietly, "why didn't you still miss the ball?"
Some players held back laughter.
Dhio clenched his fists.
But before the conflict could break out, the referee's whistle blew loudly.
"EVERYONE GATHER!"
Richard's chest tightened.
This is it.
---
Announcements Begin
The players began to move forward in a semicircle, their eyes focused on the clipboard in the Utrecht coach's hand. There was no dramatic music, no ceremony. Just an announcement—short and fateful.
The translator stepped forward.
"Thank you to all of you who participated in this selection."
"We are proud to see players from Indonesia who work as hard as you."
Some nodded, some looked down nervously.
Then the translator continued:
"After assessing technique, physique, tactical intelligence, and mentality… we have selected three names."
Richard held the hem of his worn jersey. His hands were sweating.
The translator unfolded the paper.
The first name was called.
---
First Name
"NUMBER 021 — Dhio."
Dhio was shocked.
Then he raised both hands in the air.
"YES! I know! I DESERVE IT!"
The participants applauded. Despite his arrogance, Dhio was indeed a skilled player. He approached the coach and patted his chest proudly.
Richard smiled faintly.
Despite being annoying, Dhio was talented. He deserved it.
But two slots remained.
Richard's breathing grew heavier.
---
Second Name
The translator glanced at the next name on the list.
"NUMBER 007 — Rafi Alghifari."
A tall, thin boy with the best passing skills in the selection. Rafi covered his mouth with both hands, almost crying.
"I… I… made it?"
His teammates hugged him.
Rafi was the type of hard worker who rarely got noticed, but European coaches loved his intelligence.
Richard sighed.
Only one name remained.
Just one.
His blood seemed to stop flowing.
---
The Decisive Closing
The translator took a deep breath before reading the last name.
"For the third name…"
All the participants took a half step closer.
Silence.
Silence.
It was as if the field was holding its breath.
The bald-headed Utrecht coach looked at them all one by one.
His gaze stopped… on Richard.
Richard stiffened.
"…number 118 — Richard Ardiansyah."
It was as if the entire field exploded.
"WOOOI!"
"SERIOUSLY?!"
"That Lamongan kid?!"
"Crazy! He got accepted!"
Richard stood frozen.
He didn't react.
He didn't move.
It was as if his brain hadn't processed the words.
The translator smiled.
"Congratulations, Richard."
His chest suddenly felt warm.
The cheers, the applause, the voices of the other players… everything seemed blurry.
All he felt was one thing—
He did it.
He really did it.
---
Dhio's Reaction
Dhio stared at Richard with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.
"…seriously?" he said quietly.
But this time, there was no laughter.
No jeers.
Because the reality was clear:
Richard beat him head-to-head.
Despite Dhio's talent, Richard displayed a steely mentality. And European coaches favor mentality over style.
Finally, Dhio approached.
Richard braced himself for a grumble.
But the opposite happened.
Dhio extended his hand.
"See you in the Netherlands," he said, somewhat forcefully.
Richard was surprised—but shook it.
"Ready."
For the first time… Dhio didn't underestimate him.
---
Utrecht Coach Gives Evaluation
The coaches called the three selected players to the front. Cameras rolled. The committee took notes.
The bald coach spoke:
"You three… have qualities that matter in Europe."
"Technique can be trained."
"Strength can be built."
"Speed can grow."
He pointed to Richard's chest.
"But HEART…
HEART cannot be taught."
Richard felt his throat tighten.
The translator repeated the words in Indonesian. Rafi let out a small cry. Dhio pretended not to be moved, but his cheeks flushed.
The coach then looked at Richard again, more intently.
"Your duel… unexpected."
"Your recovery after pressure… rare."
"We want to see if it's instinct… or hard work."
Richard bowed respectfully.
"I'm ready," he said firmly.
The coach nodded in satisfaction.
---
System Notification Appears
As the crowd cheered them on, a blue screen silently appeared.
---
[Major Quest Completed: Earn the Ticket]
Reward: • +40 EXP
• +2 Strength
• +1 Stamina
• Skill Upgrade:
Perfect First Touch Lv. 2
Effect: Control of the first ball improves dramatically.
---
Richard held back a smile.
He couldn't look weird.
But inside… he was celebrating.
---
Call Home
The selection was over.
The sun was setting.
One by one the participants were leaving.
Richard sat alone under the stands, staring at the Surabaya sunset sky. He reached for his cell phone and called his mother.
The phone rang… then it picked up.
"Hello, son? You haven't been home in so long, I'm worried."
Richard closed his eyes.
His voice was trembling.
"Mom…"
He took a breath.
"I… I passed, Mom."
There was a moment of silence.
Then his mother's voice broke.
"Oh my God, son… really?"
"I'm proud… I'm so proud…"
Behind him, he heard his younger siblings shout:
"BRO YOU PASSED???"
"BRO YOU WANT TO GO TO THE NETHERLANDS???"
Richard laughed, holding back tears.
"Yes… we did it."
For the first time…
he truly felt worthy.
---
Closing
That night, Richard walked home with light steps.
He was no longer a village boy who was looked down upon.
He carried a dream… and the key to a new world.
The Dutch waited.
And the System was only just beginning to awaken.
Tomorrow, the real adventure began.