Chapter 3: Testing the Waters
Ethan Cole stepped onto Southampton's youth academy pitch at noon, the September sun weak but drying the grass from last night's rain. His legs felt sharper after the dawn run and push-ups, the Football Prodigy System's +1 Stamina buzzing in his muscles like a faint charge. He still didn't trust it—glowing screens and voices in his head screamed "mental breakdown"—but the cleaner pass he'd made yesterday nagged at him. What if it's real?
The pitch smelled of mud and sweat, St Mary's Stadium looming in the distance, its red-and-white stripes a reminder of Ethan's dream. The U-17 squad was already warming up, boots thudding against balls. Ollie Price, the ginger winger, spotted him and grinned, juggling a ball. "Oi, Ethan! You look less like a drowned rat today. Sleep any?"
"Barely," Ethan muttered, dropping his bag.
The system pinged, the blue screen flashing in his vision:
[Daily Task: Complete 40 passes in training. Reward: Short Pass +1, 300 Goat Points.]
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Passes? That's my worst bit," he whispered, glancing around to ensure no one heard. The system's neutral, coach-like voice replied: Complete the task, host, to unlock your potential.
Coach Marcus Reid blew his whistle, his cap low over his weathered face. "Lads, passing drills! Pair up, keep it sharp. Bournemouth's Friday—don't embarrass me." His eyes flicked to Ethan
Ollie jogged over, tossing him a ball. "You and me, mate. Let's cock this up." His grin was infectious, but Ethan's hands were clammy. He activated the snooping function, curious about Coach Marcus. The screen materialized:
Name: Marcus Reid
Age: 42
Profession: Youth Coach (Ex-Player)
System Evaluation: Experienced Mentor
Player Rating: 70 (Retired)
Potential: 81 (Peak)
[STATS]
Vision: 75
Positioning: 72
...
Ethan blinked. Coach was once a proper player,his vision stat dwarfing Ethan's measly 57. No wonder he's so harsh. He shook it off, focusing on the drill. He and Ollie passed back and forth, the ball zipping across the wet grass. Ethan's first few passes wobbled, one nearly clipping a cone. "Come on, Ethan!" Ollie called, half-laughing. "Are you aiming for the car park?"
But as Ethan focused, something clicked. The system's +1 Stamina kept his legs steady, and his passes grew crisper, finding Ollie's feet with a satisfying thwack. By the 40th pass, he felt a surge, like his boots were glued to the ball. The screen flashed:
[Task Complete. Short Pass +1, 300 Goat Points. Total GP: 600.]
Ethan's breath hitched. His passes were better—smoother, more precise. "Bloody hell," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. Ollie raised an eyebrow. "What's got you grinning? Finally hit a pass right?"
"Something like that," Ethan said, deflecting. He couldn't admit he was talking to a magic screen. Drills shifted to a 5v5 scrimmage, and Ethan, playing as an attacking midfielder, felt the system's boost. He threaded a pass through two defenders, setting Ollie up for a shot that rattled the crossbar. Coach Marcus nodded, a rare flicker of approval. "Nice one, Cole," he grunted, scribbling on his clipboard.
Ethan's heart leapt. Was the system working? He pushed the thought down, his skepticism a heavy anchor. Just a fluke. But the screen pinged again:
[Progress Update: Match Quest (Assist in Bournemouth match: +3 Stat Points, 1000 GP) remains active. New Skill Unlocked: Precise Pass (50% Completion).]
"Precise Pass?" Ethan murmured, glancing at the skill tab. It needs practice to master. He tested it in the next play, flicking the ball to Ollie with a slight curve. Ollie trapped it, spun, and scored. "Mate, that was class!" Ollie shouted, smacking Ethan's back. The team clapped, but Ethan's mind was on the system. This can't be real.
Post-training, Ollie dragged Ethan to a chip shop near the academy, the air thick with grease and salt. They sat on a bench outside, sharing a cone of chips, the neon sign buzzing above. "You were different today," Ollie said, munching. "Like you've got a secret. Spill it."
Ethan laughed, I have just been trying harder not to get cut." He couldn't mention the system—not without sounding mad. Ollie shrugged, tossing a chip. "Keep it up, mate. Bournemouth's no joke. We need you."
The walk home was quiet, Southampton's streets damp under streetlights. At the flat, Sarah was ironing her Tesco uniform, her hands quick. "Good day, love?" she asked, her smile warm.
"Yeah," Ethan said, setting the table. "Hit some decent passes." He didn't mention the system or the assist quest. Sarah's laugh filled the room as she recounted a kid stealing biscuits at work. Ethan smiled, but his mind was on Friday's match. An assist. Survival. Maybe the system's my shot.
In his room, under De Bruyne's poster, the screen appeared:
[Daily Task: Sprint 400m in under 60 seconds. Reward: Acceleration +2, 500 Goat Points.]
Ethan stared, his skepticism wavering. "Fine," he whispered. "Let's see how far this goes." He set his alarm for 6:00 AM, determined to test the system again. Bournemouth was three days away, and the cut loomed. He wasn't ready to believe—but he wasn't ready to give up either.