Rio woke up before his alarm could even think about ringing.
It was 6:00 AM.
Usually, waking up this early felt like torture. Today, it felt like Christmas, his birthday, and the Champions League final rolled into one.
He jumped out of bed, nearly getting tangled in his sheets. He did a quick check of his limbs.
Legs attached? Yes. Ankles functioning? Yes.
System, he thought.
The blue screen shimmered into view.
[User: Rio Lance]
[Level: 2]
[Status: Excited (Mental +5)]
[Current Quest: Survive First Team Training]
"Survive," Rio muttered. "Encouraging."
He threw on his clothes and opened his bedroom door. He expected the house to be silent. He expected to tiptoe downstairs, grab a piece of toast, and leave.
Instead, he nearly collided with a tall, slouching figure in the hallway.
Rio jumped back.
"Leo?"
His younger brother was standing there, leaning against the wall like he was holding it up.
Leo was wearing a grey hoodie with the hood up, oversized headphones around his neck, and an expression that said he would rather be in a dentist's chair than awake at this hour.
"Morning," Leo grunted.
"What are you doing up?" Rio whispered.
"The sun isn't even out. Did the internet disconnect?"
Leo rolled his eyes. "Very funny. I'm coming with you."
Rio blinked. "You're... what? Yesterday you said football was boring and you wanted to stay in your cave."
"Yeah, well," Leo scratched the back of his neck, looking away. "Dad came into my room last night. He gave me this whole speech about 'brotherhood' and 'once-in-a-lifetime moments' and how if I didn't go, I'd regret it when I'm old and grey. He wouldn't shut up until I said yes."
Rio felt a warmth spread through his chest. Good old Dad.
"Besides," Leo added, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Someone has to record it when the pros nutmeg you. I need content for my TikTok."
Hand_Of_King: He has a sharp tongue, this one. I like him more and more. Bring him along. Maybe the smell of fresh grass will wake up his sleeping talent.
Zizou_5: A father's influence is powerful. Let us see if the genius watches the game, or just his phone.
"Alright," Rio grinned, punching Leo lightly on the shoulder.
"Just don't fall asleep in the stands."
They went downstairs. Their father, Carlos, was already in the kitchen, chugging a coffee and looking more nervous than Rio.
"Boys!" Carlos beamed. "Ready? We have a schedule! We have to pick up Mateo, then the stadium, then the offices! Vamonos!"
The drive to Mateo's house was a blur of Carlos humming along to the radio and Leo pretending to sleep in the backseat. When they pulled up to Mateo's apartment block, Rio burst out laughing.
Mateo was standing on the curb. He wasn't wearing a tracksuit. He wasn't wearing jeans.
He was wearing a full, three-piece navy blue suit. He looked like he was about to sell them insurance.
"Get in, Mr. President!" Rio yelled, rolling down the window.
Mateo scrambled into the backseat next to Leo, looking flustered.
"Shut up, Rio! My mom made me wear it! She said, 'You are signing a contract, you must look like a businessman!'"
Leo opened one eye, looked at Mateo's tie, and muttered, "You look like a penguin," before closing his eye again.
Dinho_Magic_10: Hahaha! The suit! It is too stiff! How can he ginga in that? Tell him to loosen the tie!
The offices of Girona FC were located within the Estadi Montilivi. The hallways were lined with framed photos of past victories and legendary players.
Rio, Mateo (sweating in his suit), and Carlos sat on one side of a large mahogany table. Leo sat in the corner chair, tapping on his phone, seemingly uninterested.
Across from them sat Quique Cárcel, the Sporting Director. He looked busy, efficient, but friendly.
"Gentlemen," Quique said, sliding two thick folders across the table.
"Welcome to the First Team dynamic."
Rio stared at the folder. It had the club crest on it. It had his name on it. Rio Lance.
"These are standard youth-to-pro transition contracts," Quique explained.
"Since you are both turning 18, and due to the emergency injury crisis, we are upgrading your status. You will be registered with the B-team but eligible for First Team selection immediately."
He pointed to the bottom line.
"The salary is a standard rookie base. €3,000 per month, plus performance bonuses for appearances and goals."
Rio's jaw dropped.
Three thousand euros.
To a superstar like Mbappe, that was probably what he spent on socks. But to Rio? To his family? It was a fortune. It was more than his dad made in two months of breaking his back at the construction site.
He looked at his father. Carlos was staring at the number, his eyes shimmering with tears he refused to let fall. His hands were shaking slightly.
"Is this... is this correct?" Carlos asked, his voice thick.
"Standard rate," Quique nodded.
"Sign here, please. As their guardian and witness."
Rio picked up the heavy, expensive pen. It felt cool in his hand.
I'm doing it, he thought. I'm not just a dreamer anymore. I'm a provider.
Total_Football_14: Money is just a tool, Rio. It buys freedom. It buys better boots. It buys steak. But it does not buy the goal. Remember that.
King_10: Nonsense. Enjoy it. Buy your mother a nice dress. But first, sign the paper before they change their minds!
Rio signed. The scratch of the pen on paper was the loudest sound in the room.
Mateo signed next, looking very serious in his suit.
"Congratulations," Quique said, standing up and shaking their hands. "You are now professional footballers for Girona FC. Now, get out of here. Michel is waiting on the training pitch. Don't be late."
Twenty minutes later, the transformation was complete.
The suit and the street clothes were gone. Rio and Mateo stood in the locker room, dressed in the official First Team training kit. It was different from the academy kit. The fabric was lighter, breathable. The crest seemed shinier.
"We look good," Mateo whispered, checking himself out in the mirror.
"We look like we tricked the security guards," Rio joked, though his heart was hammering a techno beat against his ribs.
They walked out of the tunnel and onto the main training pitch.
It was glorious. The grass was cut in perfect geometric patterns. The sun was shining.
And there, warming up in a circle, were the players Rio had watched on TV for years. Stuani, Gazzaniga, Aleix Garcia (who was watching from the sidelines on crutches).
And in the stands, sitting all alone in a sea of empty red seats, was his family. His dad was standing, filming with his phone. And Leo...
Rio used his [Scout's Eye].
Leo was sitting with his chin in his hand, looking bored. But his eyes weren't on his phone. They were locked onto the players.
[Target: Leo Lance]
[Status: Analyzing (Passive)]
[Interest Level: Low -> Moderate]
"He's watching," Rio whispered.
"Who?" Mateo asked.
"My brother. The critic."
A sharp whistle cut through the air. Michel walked onto the pitch.
He looked even more intense than yesterday.
"New blood!" Michel barked, pointing at Rio and Mateo. "Welcome to the show. No initiation ceremonies, we don't have time. You are here to work."
He blew the whistle again.
"Rondo! Three circles! Five against two! High intensity! If the ball stops, you run a lap!"
Rio and Mateo scrambled to join a circle. Rio found himself standing next to Yan Couto, the Brazilian fullback with pink hair.
"Hey, fast kid," Couto grinned.
"Don't lose the ball. I hate running."
The ball started moving.
It was faster than the match yesterday. In a rondo, there was nowhere to hide. The space was tiny. The ball moved like a pinball.
Rio focused. He focused harder than he ever had in his life.
Don't mess up. Don't mess up.
The ball came to him. It was a bullet pass from Stuani.
Zizou_5: Soft foot, Rio. Do not fight the ball. Absorb it.
Rio relaxed his ankle. He trapped the ball.
It popped up slightly but he managed to poke it quickly to the next player before the defender could steal it.
"Lucky!" Couto laughed.
[System Notification: Experience Gained +10!]
Rio let out a breath. He survived the first pass.
He glanced up at the stands. Leo was leaning forward slightly, his elbows on his knees.
Total_Football_14: Your brother is dissecting the drill. I can feel it. He is looking at the angles.
Hand_Of_King: Rio, stop looking at your family! Look at the ball! You almost got nutmegged!
Rio snapped his attention back just in time to see the ball flying toward him again. This time, he was ready. He played a one-touch pass, crisp and clean.
"Good!" Michel yelled from the center.
The training session dragged on. It was brutal.
Physical drills, tactical positioning, high-speed sprints. Rio's lungs burned. His legs felt like lead. But every time he wanted to stop, he thought of the contract in his bag.
He thought of his dad filming in the stands. He thought of Leo's 94 Potential and how he couldn't let his little brother see him quit.
By the time Michel blew the final whistle, Rio was lying flat on his back, staring at the clouds.
"Not bad," a shadow fell over him.
Rio squinted up. It was Stuani, the team captain.
"You have an engine, kid," the veteran striker said, offering a hand. "But you need to eat more pasta. You're too light."
Rio grabbed the hand and pulled himself up.
"I'll eat two bowls tonight, Cap."
Stuani chuckled and walked away.
Rio hobbled over to the sideline where his dad and brother were waiting by the fence.
"Well?" Rio asked, wiping sweat from his eyes. "Was it boring?"
Leo stood up, hands in his hoodie pockets. He looked at the pitch, then at Rio.
"You're slow in the transition," Leo said flatly. "And when you receive the ball, you always look down. You miss the overlap on the right side three times."
Rio blinked. "Uh... thanks?"
"But," Leo added, kicking at the dirt with his sneaker. "You didn't quit when Couto tackled you. That was... okay."
[Target: Leo Lance]
[Interest Level: Moderate]
[Quest Progress: The Sleeping Giant (10%)]
Rio grinned.
"I'll take 'okay'."
Rio_Lance: Did you hear that guys? He's analyzing my game!
King_10: He is right, by the way. You do look down too much. The boy has eyes of a hawk.
Zizou_5: Interesting. Very interesting. Rio, ask him what he would have done in the rondo.
Rio hesitated, then asked, "Hey Leo. In the rondo... the ball moves so fast. How do you see the pass?"
Leo shrugged.
"It's not about seeing the pass. It's about knowing where the guy is going to move before he moves. It's just... geometry. It's easy."
Leo turned and started walking toward the car. "Come on. I'm hungry. Dad said we're getting pizza because you're rich now."
Rio stood there, stunned. Just geometry?
Total_Football_14: He speaks the language of the legends without even trying. 'It is just geometry.' I love this boy.
Hand_Of_King: Rio, you have a new mission. Forget the pros. You need to get that kid a pair of boots. We cannot let that talent rot in a Fortnite lobby.
Rio grabbed his bag and limped after his family. He was sore, tired, and statistically the worst player on the team. But he had a contract, a legendary support group, and a brother who was apparently a football savant.
"Hey, Leo!" Rio shouted. "If I buy the pizza, will you play FIFA with me tonight?"
Leo stopped, looked back, and smirked. "I'll crush you 10-0."
"You wish," Rio laughed.
The car engine started.