The whistle blew, signaling the start of the second half, and immediately, the game shifted into a higher gear.
Rio jogged along the left touchline, trying to keep his breathing steady.
He felt isolated out here, a spectator on the edge of a massacre.
Suddenly, a bright, cheerful ping resonated inside his skull.
Rio flinched, almost tripping over his own feet.
Not now! he thought frantically. I'm trying to mark a professional footballer!
The translucent blue chat window flickered into existence in the corner of his vision, overlaying the image of the First Team's central midfielder controlling the ball.
[User 'Dinho_Magic_10' has come online.]
Rio blinked. Another one?
Dinho_Magic_10: Yo! What's up, family? Why is the chat so quiet? Is the kid playing? I sense bad vibes. Everyone needs to smile more! Football is joy!
Hand_Of_King: You're late, buck-toothed genius. The kid is in the middle of a war zone. Quiet down.
Dinho_Magic_10: War? Boring. Tell him to do an elastico. That fixes everything.
Rio gritted his teeth, forcing the chat window to the periphery of his mind.
An elastico? he thought bitterly. I can barely do a straight pass right now.
He refocused on the pitch. The First Team was pressing high. Arrogantly high.
Rio watched Arnau, the opposing right-back.
The man was practically playing as a winger. He was standing ten yards inside the U18 half, demanding the ball, completely ignoring Rio. It was the ultimate insult.
"Look at him," Cruyff's voice murmured in Rio's mind, cool and analytical. "He is disrespecting you. Prove to him you are a poltergeist."
Rio narrowed his eyes. He saw it. The space.
Because Arnau was so far forward, there was a massive expanse of empty green grass behind him. It looked like an airport runway, just waiting for a plane to land.
Rio looked toward the center circle. Lucas, the U18 playmaker, had just intercepted a sloppy pass.
Lucas was under pressure immediately, shielding the ball with his body.
"Lucas!" Rio screamed, waving his arm frantically toward the empty space behind Arnau.
"LONG! GO LONG!"
Lucas looked up, panic written all over his face. He saw Rio pointing. He saw the space.
With a grunt of exertion, Lucas swiveled his hips and launched a high, looping ball over the top of the defense.
It was a beautiful pass. Maybe a little too heavy, but for a speedster like Rio, it was an invitation.
"GO!" Maradona roared in his head.
Rio didn't need telling twice. He exploded off the mark.
The acceleration was instantaneous. It was the one thing Rio had that was truly elite.
He went from zero to top speed in three strides. Arnau, who had been lazily jogging back, suddenly realized the danger.
He turned and tried to sprint, but it was like watching a sedan try to race a jet fighter.
Rio blew past him. The wind rushed in his ears. The crowd actually gasped.
I'm going to get it, Rio thought, a surge of pure adrenaline spiking through his veins.
I'm in! I'm clear!
The ball was dropping out of the sky, arcing perfectly into his path about thirty yards from the goal.
Just him and the goalkeeper.
Okay, just control it, Rio told himself. Soft touch. Cushion it like a pillow.
He extended his right foot, trying to channel his inner Messi. He tried to be gentle.
But Rio's feet didn't do gentle.
The ball hit his instep with a dull thud that sounded more like a bat hitting a melon.
instead of dropping softly to the ground, the ball rocketed off his foot, bouncing five meters ahead and slightly to the right—directly toward the sideline.
"No!" Rio gasped.
The groan from the sidelines was audible.
Dinho_Magic_10: Oh my god. Did he just tackle the ball?
King_10: Painful.
Rio didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He scrambled after his own terrible touch. The ball was skidding toward the white line.
Arnau, realizing he had a second chance, was closing in, using his body to shield the ball out of play.
"It's mine!" Rio grunted.
He threw himself into a slide, desperation taking over. He hooked his leg around Arnau, managing to poke the ball.
But it was messy. Rio's other leg got tangled with Arnau's, and they both went tumbling into the advertising boards with a loud clatter.
The referee blew the whistle.
"Goal kick!"
Rio lay on the ground for a second, staring up at the blue sky. His shin throbbed where he'd hit the plastic board.
Arnau stood up, brushing grass off his pristine kit. He looked down at Rio and smirked.
"Fast," the pro defender said, shaking his head. "But you run faster than your brain, kid. Learn to trap a ball before you try to play with the big boys."
Rio scrambled to his feet, his face burning hot. He could feel the eyes of everyone on him.
Michel, the First Team coach, was writing something on his notepad.
Probably: Number 17: Fast. useless. Do not sign.
Rio jogged back into position, keeping his head down.
Total_Football_14: That was... suboptimal. Your positioning was perfect. Your run was timing perfection. But your foot is made of concrete.
Hand_Of_King: Concrete? No, concrete is smooth. His foot is made of jagged rocks. Kid, why didn't you use the item? Why didn't you use the La Gambeta?
I couldn't! Rio snapped back mentally. The item is for dribbling! I didn't even have the ball under control to dribble! I can't feint if I don't have the ball!
He looked toward Lucas, who was shaking his head in the midfield. Lucas looked frustrated. He had played a great pass, and Rio had wasted it.
Rio ran over to him while the goalkeeper was setting up the ball.
"Lucas!" Rio hissed.
Lucas didn't look at him. "I can't pass to you if you're just going to kick it out of play, Rio. We need to keep possession. Coach will kill me if I give the ball away again."
"No," Rio grabbed Lucas's arm. "Listen to me. Arnau is slow. He's tired. Did you see how much distance I put on him? I smoked him!"
"You smoked him and then you smoked the ball into the parking lot," Lucas retorted.
"I was nervous!" Rio pleaded, his eyes intense. "My touch was heavy. It won't happen again. I swear. Just give me one more. Put it in the same spot. Please, Lucas. I can beat him. I know I can."
Lucas looked at Rio. He saw the desperation, but he also saw the fire. Usually, Rio would be apologizing, shrinking away, asking to be subbed off. Today, he was demanding the ball.
"One more," Lucas sighed. "But if you mess it up, I'm passing to Alejandro's ghost for the rest of the game."
"Deal."
Rio jogged back to the wing. He took a deep breath, shaking out his arms.
Rio_Lance: Okay. I embarrassed myself. Are you guys happy?
Dinho_Magic_10: Happy? No. Entertained? Yes. But I like your spirit, little cheetah. You fall down, you get up. That is the samba spirit, even if you have zero rhythm.
Total_Football_14: The fullback thinks he has won. He thinks you are just a physical athlete with no technique. This is good. He will be complacent.
King_10: Indeed. He will leave the space open again because he believes you cannot punish him. He is falling into the trap.
Rio looked at the inventory screen floating in his mind. The golden gift box icon was pulsing gently.
[Item: La Gambeta Feint (Basic)]
[Duration: 10 Minutes]
[Status: READY]
[Item: The Clockwork Eye]
[Uses: 1/1]
[Status: READY]
I'm not saving them anymore, Rio decided. Waiting for the perfect moment is stupid. The moment is when I make it.
The game restarted.
The First Team goalkeeper passed it short to the center-back. They started their tiki-taka buildup again.
Rio watched Arnau. The defender pushed up again, chewing gum, looking bored. He didn't even glance over his shoulder to check where Rio was.
That's it, Rio thought. Keep walking forward. Keep thinking I'm trash.
He activated the mental command.
System. Activate 'The Clockwork Eye'.
CLICK!
The world didn't change color, but suddenly, lines appeared on the pitch. Glowing, white geometric lines overlaid on the grass. Rio blinked.
He could see vector lines extending from every player, showing their potential movement paths. He could see a red zone around the First Team midfielders where the pressure was highest.
And he saw a bright, golden line stretching from Lucas's foot, curving through the air, and landing perfectly in the space behind Arnau.
A countdown timer appeared above Lucas's head.
3... 2... 1...
Rio realized the System was calculating exactly when the passing lane would open.
"Lucas!"
He waited for the timer.
0.
Rio sprinted.
At the exact same moment, Lucas looked up. It was as if they were connected by a telepathic wire. Lucas swung his leg.
Arnau turned, his eyes widening.
"Again?" he muttered, turning to chase.
The ball soared through the air.
System, Rio commanded, his heart roaring in his ears. Activate 'La Gambeta'.
A surge of heat exploded in Rio's legs. It felt like electricity, but smoother.
His muscles felt loose, oily, responsive. The awkwardness that usually plagued his movements vanished. He felt... elegant.
The ball dropped out of the sky.
Arnau was shoulder-to-shoulder with him this time, using his strength to try and bump Rio off balance before the ball arrived.
Normally, Rio would have panicked. He would have stiffened up.
But the La Gambeta item took over. His body reacted instinctively. As the ball touched the grass, Rio didn't just kick it.
He dropped his left shoulder deep, feinting as if he was going to cut inside. Arnau bit on the fake, shifting his weight just a fraction to the left.
In that split second, Rio used the outside of his right boot to caress the ball. It was a soft, gliding touch that pushed the ball perfectly into his stride, away from the defender.
Arnau was left twisting in the wind, his ankles practically crying for mercy.
"What?" the defender gasped, grabbing at Rio's jersey but catching only air.
The crowd went silent.
Rio Lance, the boy with square wheels, was gone. He was racing toward the penalty box, the ball glued to his toe as if by a magnet.
Dinho_Magic_10: WOOOOO! Now that is what I'm talking about! Dance, my friend! DANCE!