The morning after their historic victory, Takeshi's body felt like it had been hit by a truck. His mind was still processing the impossible, six kids had outplayed teenage academy players eight years older. The legendary skill box from his completed quest flickered in the corner of his vision, tempting but ignored.
Later. First, I need to understand what yesterday actually meant.
Erik appeared at his door without knocking, that predatory smile firmly in place.
"A journalist wants to interview us. Now."
The small conference room felt claustrophobic with recording equipment and lights. Willem de Groot, a seasoned football journalist from Voetbal International, sat across from them with the hungry look of someone who'd stumbled onto the story of the decade.
"Thank you both for your time," Willem began, but his eyes never left Takeshi. "Yesterday's performance was... unprecedented."
Erik sat silently, his sinister smile growing wider as every question bypassed him entirely.
"Takeshi, how does it feel to orchestrate four goals against players eight years older?"
This is how it starts, Takeshi's adult mind warned.
The spotlight. The pressure. The beginning of the end.
"My teammates scored the goals," Takeshi deflected. "I just tried to help."
"But the tactical adjustment at 0-1, the formation change, the way you conducted the team, where did an eight-year-old learn such advanced football intelligence?"
"I watch a lot of matches on TV."
Willem leaned forward, clearly unsatisfied with humble answers. "Do you understand how unprecedented this is? Professional scouts are calling it the greatest individual youth performance they've ever witnessed."
There it is. The elevation. The pedestal I need to avoid.
"What was your mindset during that tactical shift? Our readers want to understand the thinking of such a young tactical genius."
Tactical genius. Generational talent. The praise felt like poison in Takeshi's ears, each word a step closer to the spotlight that had destroyed him before.
"I just wanted to help my team win," he said simply.
"The football world is talking about you, Takeshi. The eight-year-old Japanese who destroyed Ajax U16. How does that feel?"
Like a death sentence.
The interview dragged on for what felt like hours. Questions about his future, his dreams, his "unprecedented talent." Willem's excitement was infectious to everyone except the one person it was focused on.
Finally, mercifully, it ended.
"This article will be published across Europe tomorrow," Willem said, packing his equipment. "Every major football publication will want to follow up."
Takeshi nodded politely, but inside, his adult mind was screaming warnings.
Erik's Warning
Once the journalist left, the room fell silent except for the hum of fluorescent lights. Erik remained seated, his predatory gaze fixed on Takeshi.
"Kid, you're a target now."
No congratulations. No praise. Just cold, matter-of-fact reality.
"Many clubs want you. You're no longer a hidden gem. People know about you."
"What does that mean?"
"Scouts from Barcelona, Manchester City, Liverpool, and Bayern Munich were at yesterday's match. Some already reached out." Erik's smile was razor-sharp. "The interview will make it worse, exposure across Europe."
More eyes. More pressure. More people want to own me.
"You understand what this means?" Erik continued. "More attention. More expectations. More people are trying to get close to you for the wrong reasons."
Takeshi felt the weight of those words. In his previous life, this was exactly how it had started, exceptional performance leading to media attention, leading to commodification.
Erik stood up, moving closer.
"You're mine until I say otherwise. Don't forget that."
The possessive edge in his voice was unmistakable. Not protective, controlling.
"I found you. I developed you. I own you."
Then he was gone, leaving Takeshi alone with the crushing realization that yesterday's triumph had painted a target on his back.
Day 6 was nothing like the previous five days of brutal training hell.
Instead of thirty-mile runs and tactical drills, journalists arrived throughout the morning. Each wanted the same thing. Interviews with the eight-year-old prodigy who'd shocked the football world.
"How do you feel about comparisons to Pelé?"
"Would you consider moving to Barcelona?"
"What's next for the Japanese talent?"
By lunch, Takeshi felt like a zoo animal being studied. Every question, every camera flash, every scribbled note reminded him of what he'd lost before, the simple joy of playing football.
The other kids reacted differently to the attention. Marcus seemed to respect the spotlight, understanding it came with greatness. Kwame's pride was obviously wounded, why wasn't anyone asking about his defensive performance? Isabella thought it was exciting.
But Elsa... Elsa watched everything with those perceptive Norwegian eyes, noticing how the attention was weighing on him.
She sees what the others don't. That this isn't making me happy.
By evening, Takeshi was mentally exhausted. The brutal physical training had been preferable to this media circus.
Finding Ground
After dinner, Takeshi found himself outside the dormitory, needing air and space. Oliver and Elsa found him there, as if they'd sensed his need for genuine human connection.
"So, Mr. Famous," Oliver teased with a grin, "remember us little people when you're playing for Barcelona?"
Usually, Takeshi appreciated Oliver's humor, but tonight it felt heavy.
"Are you okay?" Elsa asked softly, her intuition cutting through his facade. "You've seemed... different today."
Something about her genuine concern cracked his defences.
"It's overwhelming," he admitted. "I just wanted to play football. Now I feel like..."
"Like a product?" Oliver finished, his teasing tone replaced with understanding.
"Yeah."
"No matter how famous you get," Elsa said firmly, "we're still partners. You're still just Takeshi to us."
"The same Takeshi who helped Oliver make that incredible pass," Oliver added. "Who celebrated Elsa's goal like it was his own. Fame doesn't change who you are inside."
These kids understand something most adults don't.
For the first time all day, Takeshi felt grounded. In his previous life, he'd lost connections like this, people who saw him as a person instead of a commodity.
"Thanks," he said simply. "I needed to hear that."
"That's what friends are for," Elsa replied, and something in her voice made his chest feel warm.
Not teammates. Not training partners. Friends.
They talked for another hour about anything except football, Oliver's jokes, Elsa's stories about Norway, normal kid conversations that reminded Takeshi why these relationships mattered more than any system reward.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed them all.
"Training tomorrow," Oliver yawned. "Day 7. Wonder what fresh hell Erik has planned."
"Whatever it is," Elsa said, looking at Takeshi, "we'll handle it together."
Finally, alone in his room, door locked, Takeshi allowed himself to focus on the reward that had been waiting since yesterday's match.
The legendary skill box pulsed in his vision, golden light promising something extraordinary.
Five stars guaranteed. This could be game-changing.
He took a deep breath and mentally commanded it to open.
Light exploded across his vision, the system interface shifting and reshaping as information cascaded across the screen.
[LEGENDARY SKILL UNLOCKED]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
SKILL: TIME RELAY
RANK: ★★★★★ (LEGENDARY)
STATUS: LOCKED - UNABLE TO USE
UNLOCK REQUIREMENT: ???
DESCRIPTION: ???
EFFECT: ???
[ACCESS DENIED]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
What the hell?
Takeshi stared at the screen in disbelief. A legendary five-star skill, the highest possible rank, but completely inaccessible.
Time Relay. What does that even mean?
He tried focusing on it, willing the system to reveal more information. Nothing. He tried accessing different menus, searching for unlock conditions. Nothing.
The skill appeared in his ability list but remained greyed out, taunting him with its mystery.
Time-related? Timing? Relaying time somehow? An offensive skill? Defensive? Utility?
His adult mind ran through possibilities, but without more information, speculation was useless.
Legendary skills are supposed to be game-changers. This one's completely useless... for now.
The mix of emotions was frustrating: excitement at receiving something so rare, annoyance at being unable to use it, and burning curiosity about what it could do.
Whatever you are, Time Relay, you're not helping me right now.
Lying in bed, staring at the locked skill icon, Takeshi's mind wandered through the day's events. Erik's possessive warning. The media circus. The genuine warmth of his friends.
Fourteen days left at Ajax.
Clubs circling like sharks.
A mysterious skill he couldn't use.
And Erik's words echoed in my head, "You're mine."
Time Relay, he thought as his eyes grew heavy. Whatever you are, I'll figure you out eventually. But first, I have to survive the spotlight without losing myself again.
The skill icon flickered once in his peripheral vision, as if responding to something.
Then went still.
Fourteen days to go.
Everything's about to change.
TO BE CONTINUED...