Casteldebole Training Centre.Halftime.Score: Reserve Team 1 - 0 Primavera.
Rio sat on the bench, a heavy towel draped over his head to hide his face. He wasn't sweating like a normal athlete; he was shivering. Cold sweat. His Bionic Heart was working overtime, pumping frantically to flush the lactic acid from his underdeveloped muscles.
[System Status][Stamina: 45%][Tactical Lens Duration: 40 Minutes Remaining]
"Valdes," Coach Rossi's voice cut through the heavy breathing of the players. Rio looked up. Rossi wasn't smiling, but he wasn't scowling either. He looked at Rio like a scientist observing a lab rat that had surprisingly survived the first phase of an experiment. "You play simple. I like simple," Rossi grunted. "But the second half will be different. They will stop pressing the ball. They will press you." Rossi pointed a marker pen at Rio's chest. "Can you take a hit? Because Stefano is coming for your ribs, not the ball."
Rio drank his electrolyte water, the liquid feeling cool against his parched throat. "Let him come," Rio said, crushing the paper cup.
Second Half. Minute 55.
Rossi was right. The Primavera team changed tactics. They abandoned the sophisticated Gegenpressing. They switched to a dirty, physical "Man-Marking" system. Every time Rio touched the ball, he didn't just see a Red Dot on his minimap—he felt a collision.
WHAM. Rio released a pass, but a split second later, a Primavera defender slammed into his lower back. Rio ate dirt, his face pressing into the grass. "Oops," the defender smirked, standing over him. "Late brakes. Sorry, Tourist."
The referee (a youth coach employed by the club) waved play on. In an internal training match, "soft fouls" were ignored to build character. Or to break it.
Minute 65. Rio was limping. His right thigh was throbbing with a deep bruise. The Tactical Lens continued to show him safe passing lanes, but his body was becoming too slow to reach them. My mind is a Ferrari, but my body is a broken bicycle, Rio thought bitterly.
He received the ball in the center circle. Stefano Ricci was there instantly. "Tired, Tourist?" Stefano taunted, pulling Rio's jersey from behind—unseen by the ref. Rio tried to pivot away, but Stefano kicked his ankle. Not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to destabilize him. Rio lost balance. The ball rolled loose.
Stefano stole it. "Counter attack!" Stefano screamed.
Rio was on the ground, watching helplessly. Stefano sprinted. The Reserve Team defense was high up the pitch, out of position because they had trusted Rio to hold the ball. Stefano dribbled past one defender. Then another. He faced the keeper and chipped the ball arrogantly into the net.
GOAL.Reserve Team 1 - 1 Primavera.
Stefano didn't celebrate with his team. He ran back to the midfield, right to where Rio was struggling to stand up. He leaned down, his face inches from Rio's ear. "You see?" Stefano whispered, his breath hot. "You bought a fancy pass, but you can't buy respect. Go home to the slums, little boy."
Rio gritted his teeth. He stood up, dusting the dirt off his bruised knees. He looked at the sideline. Adrian wasn't smiling anymore. The data analyst was frustrated. He caught Rio's eye and made a gesture—he mimicked an Explosion with his hands.
Use the Cannon, Adrian was saying. Blow them up.
Rio calculated instantly. The Cannon cost 7 Days. He shook his head slightly. No, Rio thought. 7 days is too expensive for a draw in a training match. I can win this cheaper.
Minute 85.Score: 1 - 1.
The game was dying. Both teams were exhausted. Rio's Tactical Lens flickered. [Warning: Item Duration Expiring in 5 Minutes]
The Reserve Team won a corner kick. The tall defenders went up for a header. Rio stayed at the edge of the box (The D-Line), waiting for a rebound.
The corner was taken. The ball was headed clear by a Primavera defender. It soared high into the air, falling toward the midfield... falling directly toward Stefano Ricci.
Stefano controlled the ball with his chest. He turned, ready to launch a final counter-attack to win the game. He saw Rio standing in his path. The last line of defense. Stefano smiled. "I'll go right through you."
Stefano knocked the ball forward—a long touch, challenging Rio to a sprint duel. He knew he was faster. He knew Rio was weak (Grade E Strength). Stefano lowered his shoulder like a rugby player, preparing to barge Rio out of the way.
Rio saw the Red Dot accelerating on his HUD. [System Calculation][Impact Warning: High][Strength Difference: Impossible to Win Direct Clash]
Rio didn't brace for impact. He didn't tense his muscles. He remembered the [The Matador] passive skill he bought yesterday. Effect: Increases Evasion when facing a stronger opponent.
Stefano charged. "MOVE!" Just as their bodies were about to collide, Rio didn't resist. He went limp. He spun. The Roulette.
Normally, Rio didn't have the agility to pull off a Zidane Roulette at this speed. But the System guided his hips, greasing his joints. Rio spun around Stefano's charging body like water flowing around a rock. Stefano slammed into empty space. His own momentum became his enemy. He tripped over his own feet, face-planting into the turf for the second time in two days.
Rio emerged with the ball. He was alone. 25 meters from goal. The Primavera defenders were shocked. Their Captain was eating grass again.
"SHOOT!" Adrian screamed from the sideline.
Rio looked at the goal. 25 meters. His legs were trembling with exhaustion. A normal shot would be weak. The goalkeeper was well-positioned.
I need power. But I won't pay 7 Days. Rio looked at his Inventory. He had 1 item left that he hadn't used.
[Item: Adrenaline Shot (Consumable)][Effect: Boosts Leg Strength by 50% for one action.][Cost: 2 Days]
Two days, Rio thought. Acceptable.
[PURCHASE CONFIRMED][Item Activated]
There was no needle. No injection. Just a sudden, chemical fire exploding in Rio's right leg. The fatigue vanished for a split second, replaced by raw, burning power. Rio didn't use technique. He used violence. He smashed the ball on the half-volley.
BOOM.
The ball didn't curve. It screamed. It flew low, skimming the grass like a stone on water, picking up speed. The goalkeeper dived. But the shot was too fast. It went under the keeper's hand before he could even touch the ground.
THUD. The sound of the ball hitting the back of the net.
GOAL.Reserve Team 2 - 1 Primavera.
Rio didn't celebrate. The adrenaline faded instantly, leaving him empty. He fell to his knees, his energy bar hitting 0%. He looked at Stefano, who was still on the ground, pounding the dirt in frustration.
"Game over, Prince," Rio whispered to himself.
The Aftermath.
The whistle blew. Coach Rossi walked onto the pitch. He walked past the crying Stefano without a word. He stopped in front of Rio. Rio looked up from the grass, expecting criticism for his lack of defense earlier.
Rossi looked at his clipboard, then at Rio. "You are slow," Rossi said bluntly. "You are weak. You tackle like a little girl." Rossi paused, removing his glasses. "But you have eyes in the back of your head. And you have ice in your veins."
Rossi ripped a page off his clipboard and dropped it onto Rio's chest. It was the squad list for next Sunday. Serie A: Matchday 1.Bologna FC vs AC Milan.
Rio's name was on it. [SUBSTITUTES: Rio Valdes #10]
"Be at the stadium at 12:00," Rossi said, walking away. "And for God's sake, eat some steak. You look like a skeleton."
Rio stared at the paper. His hands shook—not from fear, but from excitement. He made the bench. He was going to the San Siro.
Adrian wheeled himself over, a triumphant grin on his face. "Milan," Adrian said, looking at the squad list. "The Cathedral of Football. Are you ready to play against giants?"
Rio looked at his remaining lifespan. [Current Lifespan: 361 Days, 08 Hours, 00 Minutes]
He had spent almost two weeks of life (travel, skills, items) to get here. "I'm ready," Rio said, clutching the paper. "Let's go hunt some giants."