The transfer was executed with the chilling precision of a covert military operation.
Rio did not fly with the team back to the hotel. He was met at the tunnel of the Doha stadium by two men in dark suits—not Indonesian government officials, but private security contracted directly by Guntur Wijaya. Within hours of the final whistle against Vietnam, Rio was strapped into a leather seat on a Gulfstream jet bound for Zurich.
He landed in a world of stark, cold efficiency. The air in Switzerland was crisp, smelling of snow and expensive machinery. It was a complete contrast to the chaotic, humid energy of Jakarta or the suffocating heat of Doha—a silence that felt both safe and terrifying.
Rio was immediately checked into a specialized, discreet medical facility nestled in the Alps, known simply as "The Lab." It wasn't a hospital; it was a research clinic dedicated to high-performance physiological engineering for elite athletes who needed discretion.
[CURRENT LIFESPAN: 23 Days, 15 Hours]Note: Travel and initial assessments consumed 48 hours.
"This is Guntur's solution," Specter noted, floating beside the stainless steel operating table, his breath misting in the sterile air. "He doesn't trust your F-Rank body to survive another match without a technical upgrade. He's treating your heart like a broken piece of proprietary equipment."
Rio shivered, though the room was climate-controlled. "I feel like a spare part, Specter."
THE HEART ENGINEERS
Rio was introduced to Dr. Lena Vogel, the clinic's chief cardiovascular engineer. She was severe, brilliant, and completely unconcerned with Rio's emotional state—she saw only the failing mechanics of his biology.
She strapped Rio into a maze of machines. The next three days were a blur of tests: stress echocardiograms inside pressurized chambers, advanced genetic profiling, and hours spent inside a humming, massive magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) machine.
"Remarkable," Dr. Vogel muttered on the third day, reviewing the holographic scans projected in the air. "The hypertrophy is severe. By all medical logic, the ventricular walls should have collapsed days ago. But the damage is... contained."
She zoomed in on the image of Rio's heart.
"It's like the organ is being constantly jump-started by an external neural force, preventing catastrophic failure, yet the muscle itself remains untouched. It beats with a rhythm that contradicts your biology."
That external force is my life, Rio thought grimly.
Rio was forced to explain the System's mechanics to Dr. Vogel—not the Gacha or the ghost, but the physiological reality. He explained that a "neural bypass" forced his heart to function beyond its capacity, using an extreme, self-regulated adrenaline response.
Dr. Vogel looked at him with renewed, scientific curiosity. She didn't call him crazy; she saw a problem to be optimized.
"We cannot cure the HCM," Dr. Vogel concluded, standing beside a complex 3D projection of Rio's pulsing heart. "But we can make the Bypass more efficient. The problem isn't just the heart rate; it's the heat."
She presented her plan: Phase One: The Thermal Regulation Kit.
"Your body overheats dramatically when the System forces the speed," Dr. Vogel explained, pointing to the red zones on the hologram. "This heat increases cardiac stress exponentially. When you sprint, you are essentially boiling your own engine."
She tapped a button, and a small, silver filament appeared on the screen, threaded around an artery.
"We can implant a bio-cooling filament along the carotid artery—minimally invasive. This will help regulate your core temperature, reducing your heart rate by 5 to 8 BPM during peak stress. It won't fix the heart, but it will lower the cost of running the engine."
Rio stared at the proposed procedure. It sounded like science fiction. But the logic was undeniable.
"What is the cost?" Rio asked.
"Financially? Guntur has already wired the funds," Dr. Vogel replied dismissively. "Surgically? Minimal risk. But your body will need to accept the foreign object."
Rio closed his eyes. He wasn't asking about money. He checked the System Shop.
[SYSTEM ALERT: SURGICAL ENHANCEMENT DETECTED][UPGRADE PENDING: THERMAL REGULATION KIT (Rank B)]Effect: Permanently reduces peak Heart Stress by 5-8 BPM. Increases System Efficiency. Cost to Integrate:14 Days Lifespan.
Rio's blood ran cold. Fourteen days?
He had just 23 days left. If he accepted this, he would drop to 9 days left to live. Single digits.
"You have to take it," Specter urged, his voice heavy. "It's a permanent reduction in your cost of living. Think about it, Rio. A 5 BPM reduction means you can run harder without triggering the stabilizer. It means you don't need to buy pills every match. It's an investment."
"But I have the Asian Cup Quarter-Final in less than a week!" Rio whispered internally. "If I drop to 9 days, I have zero margin for error! One draw, and I die."
"The cost of not buying it is higher," Specter stated grimly. "If your heart rate hits 185 BPM in the next match without this, Guntur's stabilizer will auto-purchase and cost you 10 days anyway. This is the cheaper, long-term solution."
Rio looked at Dr. Vogel. He looked at the hologram. He thought of the crushing heat in Qatar and how it had nearly killed him against Iran.
He pressed [CONFIRM INTEGRATION].
ZAP!
The pain of the lifespan withdrawal was intense—a sharp, dizzying vacuum. It felt like his consciousness briefly disconnected, a chunk of his future ripped away to pay for the present.
[LIFESPAN DEDUCTED: -14 DAYS][UPGRADE COMPLETE: THERMAL REGULATION KIT (Rank B)][CURRENT LIFESPAN: 09 Days, 15 Hours]
THE SURGERY AND THE AWAKENING
"Do it," Rio said aloud.
Dr. Vogel nodded. "Sedation."
The world went black.
The surgery was brief, clinical, and flawless.
Rio woke up four hours later. The recovery room was silent, overlooking a snowy mountain peak.
The first thing he noticed was the silence in his chest.
For weeks, his heart had felt like a trapped bird, fluttering wildly against his ribs. Now, it felt... steady. Controlled. The chaotic tremor that usually accompanied his waking moments was gone.
He felt a faint, ghost-like chill running along the side of his neck—the cooling filament doing its work. It wasn't uncomfortable; it was efficient.
Dr. Vogel walked in, checking a tablet.
"The device is functioning," she announced, her voice lacking any bedside manner. "Your baseline heart rate has dropped by 6 BPM. We ran a simulated stress test while you were under sedation. Your recovery time has improved by 12%."
She placed a new, sleek black heart monitor on his chest—an upgrade from Guntur's clunky device.
"This connects directly to Mr. Wijaya's network. He has been monitoring the surgery in real-time."
Dr. Vogel looked him in the eye. "You are no longer just a patient with a heart condition, Mr. Valdes. You are a hybrid. A machine optimized for a specific purpose."
Rio sat up. He felt the cold truth of her words. He touched the small, healed incision on his neck.
He wasn't human anymore. He was a clockwork striker.
He opened his System interface.
[CURRENT LIFESPAN: 09 Days, 11 Hours][WARNING: EXTREME TIME DEFICIT]Failure to earn 7+ days in the next 72 hours results in System Critical Failure.
He had less than 72 hours before the Quarter-Final. He had to win to survive the time tax, and he had to win big to buy himself the next week of life.
Rio stood up, walking to the window. The reflection showed a boy who looked older, colder, and sharper than the one who had left Jakarta.
"Specter," Rio whispered, looking out at the snow. "Where are we flying?"
"Seoul, South Korea," Specter replied, appearing in the reflection. "The Quarter-Finals are being hosted across multiple venues, and we drew the short straw. You are facing the host nation."
Specter grinned, a skeletal rictus.
"South Korea. The favorites. The team you humiliated in the friendly match. Remember Park Min-ho? He remembers you. And he's faster now."
Rio smiled back. It was a thin, ruthless curve of his lips.
"Good," Rio said, touching his chest where the new, cold engine hummed. "A meat grinder is just a machine. And machines can be broken."
"Let's go earn my life back."