What happened after the final whistle felt like a blur to Winston. Everything happened so quickly that he barely had time to process it. The excitement, the relief, and the overwhelming sense of accomplishment washed over him all at once. He felt as though he could burst into tears. His performance had erased any doubts the coaching staff had about him.
The head coach and his assistants were now convinced that Winston deserved a place in the starting eleven. The changing room buzzed with excitement as the players celebrated the victory before quickly shifting their focus to the next challenge.
A few hours later, the team emerged wearing their club tracksuits. There was little time to rest. With back-to-back fixtures scheduled, they immediately boarded the team bus for another away match in a neighboring city. Just like on the previous trip, Winston claimed the window seat. As the bus merged onto the freeway, a passing streetlight flashed across his eyes, momentarily blinding him. The sudden glare reminded him of the strange vision he had experienced during the Giants Hawks match.
Flash Scanner Vision...
That was the only name he could think of for it. It had felt eerily similar to the strange awakening he experienced during the Plain Simulation.
Was that really another awakening... or was it something else entirely?
He wondered how many more abilities or phenomena the Core would reveal. To keep himself grounded, Winston had started recording everything in a journal. Every strange vision, every new ability, every unexplained occurrence—he wrote them all down. He had even searched online for answers, but nothing remotely resembled the Core system.
None of it frightened him. Deep down, he believed these phenomena were all connected to the Core. What unsettled him was how they appeared without warning. More importantly, he didn't want them interfering with his football. With a quiet sigh, Winston glanced at Oswin, who was snoring softly in the seat beside him.
A chuckle escaped his lips. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and pretended to be asleep. A few moments later, footsteps echoed down the aisle. Without opening his eyes, Winston counted the assistant coach's rounds. Every so often, the coach walked through the bus, making sure none of the youths were causing trouble and that everyone was getting some rest.
Three rounds later, even the assistant coach settled into his seat and drifted off to sleep. Now the only people still awake were Winston...and the bus driver. Of course, the driver had no idea that one of his passengers was quietly awake, staring into the darkness beyond the window.
As the sun rose, the sky was painted in warm shades of orange and gold. Winston remained by the window, quietly passing the time. He had turned the passing scenery into a game, counting the distance between each roadside reflector post as the bus sped along the highway. He kept himself occupied until dawn. Then, letting out a fake yawn, he stretched and deliberately acted as though he had just woken up.
Still rubbing his eyes, he made his way to the rear of the bus, where the small kitchenette and bathroom were separated from the aisle by a curtain. Once he slipped behind it, he quietly drew the curtain closed. The space was cramped, but it was enough. Without wasting a second, Winston began his morning routine.
He started with sit-ups. The confined space meant his knees occasionally bumped against the cupboard doors.
Thud.
He froze holding his breath, he listened for footsteps.
Nothing, he continued.
Thud.
Again, he paused, waiting to see if anyone had heard. Silence. Relieved, Winston finished his set before moving on to his next exercise. Just as he was about to continue, a phone rang somewhere near the front of the bus. Moments later, he heard seats creak and players shifting awake.
Time's up.
Winston quickly stepped out from behind the curtain. The bus driver caught sight of him in the rear-view mirror and smirked knowingly. Embarrassed, Winston rubbed the back of his head.
"Oh, Winston, you're already awake?" the assistant coach said with a stretch. "Do me a favor and help wake everyone up."
"Sure, Coach."
After everyone had woken up, the head coach stepped into the aisle of the bus and clapped his hands. "Alright, everyone, settle down. Since we're playing back-to-back matches, I need you all to manage your energy. Once we arrive in the next city, get some proper rest. I need everyone at their best for these upcoming games." He paused before continuing. "We'll be staying there for a few days. You're free to go out and explore the city, but once noon passes, curfew begins. I want everyone back at the bus by three o'clock. No exceptions."
"Yes, Coach," the players answered.
After the meeting broke up, the atmosphere on the bus relaxed. Some players buried themselves in books, others pulled out handheld consoles, while a few put on headphones and listened to music. Beside Winston, Oswin was furiously typing on his phone before letting out an exaggerated groan. "Damn... now I won't have time to check out the girls in Hampstead."
Winston laughed. "Pray we get there before noon. Then you'll have plenty of time to explore."
Oswin clasped his hands dramatically. "Please, football gods. Don't make me spend the whole trip surrounded by sausages."
"Stop being so dramatic," Winston said with a chuckle. "Why don't you just call the girl you're already talking to?"
"I could," Oswin admitted with a shrug. "But where's the fun in that? I like the chase. I like it when a girl plays hard to get."
Winston raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Oswin threw his hands into the air like an actor performing on stage. "Because they need me, Wis. They all need me. They're just waiting for me to sweep them off their feet and give them the illusion of a perfect relationship."
He held the pose for a second before bursting into laughter. "Nah, I'm kidding. I don't know... I just love women."
His theatrical performance caught Winston completely off guard. The two laughed together.
"That line's from the screenplay Oracle by Albert Grongg," Oswin said. "I dated this girl who was obsessed with Broadway. She'd quote plays every chance she got."
"You almost had me believing you."
"I know," Oswin replied with a grin. "I should've become an actor instead."
Winston shook his head, laughing. "You'd probably spend rehearsals flirting with the audience."
"No comment."
The two shared another laugh before Oswin suddenly remembered something.
"Oh, by the way... you're fifth on the top scorers' table now."
"Yeah, I saw."
Winston leaned back in his seat. "I still need a few more goals if I want to reach the top."
He glanced sideways at Oswin.
"And you're in the top four for assists."
Oswin grinned. "Looks like we're climbing the rankings together."
Oswin merely shrugged. Truthfully, the assists leaderboard wasn't even on his mind. From the very beginning, his goal had been to help Winston stand out in the Under-21 league. A few weeks earlier, while they had been training together, Oswin had asked Winston what he planned to achieve before the season ended.
Winston had told him everything. He wanted to make a name for himself. He wanted to attract the attention of senior clubs. Without hesitation, Oswin had decided to help him achieve that goal. Because of that, climbing the assists rankings had been inevitable.
"It was only a matter of time before I made the leaderboard," Oswin said, puffing out his chest. "I'm the best playmaker in the league. You're still learning, but don't worry—I'll take you under my wing."
Winston burst out laughing. "You wish."
Their laughter echoed through the bus, drawing curious glances from their teammates.
"Alright," Winston said, extending his hand. "Let's make a bet."
Oswin's eyes lit up. "I'm listening."
"If you score more goals than me in the next match and break into the league's top five scorers..."Winston smirked. "...then I'll consider you my equal."
"My equal?" Oswin scoffed dramatically. "You should be honored to be compared to me."
The two shook hands, sealing the challenge with wide grins.
"You're buying dinner when I win," Oswin added.
"In your dreams."
Laughing, Oswin jogged toward the back of the bus, still talking trash over his shoulder. A short while later, the team bus rolled into Hampstead City. Towering mountains framed the skyline, while lush forests and winding hiking trails surrounded the city. It was famous for its breathtaking scenery and was a popular destination for hikers and anyone seeking an escape into nature. To Oswin's delight, his prayers had been answered. They had arrived just after midday.
He immediately grinned. "I've got time."
After the team bus parked, Winston decided to explore the city. His goal wasn't sightseeing. He wanted to find a football pitch where he could train in peace. He wandered through Hampstead for hours, weaving between busy streets, apartment blocks, and shopping districts. By the time the sun had dipped below the mountains and dusk settled over the city, he had nearly given up.
As he stepped out of the last residential block, something caught his eye. Behind a row of colorful apartment buildings lay three small football pitches. The grass was immaculately trimmed, the white lines freshly painted, and tall green fences surrounded each pitch. Powerful LED floodlights stood at every corner, bathing the fields in a bright white glow.
Winston hurried down the steep concrete steps leading toward the facility. Reaching the bottom, he noticed a football resting near the center circle of one of the pitches. He peered through the fence. No one's here...
Curious, he walked along the fence until he found a gate. He tried the handle.
Click.
It wasn't locked. After glancing around one last time to make sure the grounds were empty, Winston quietly stepped inside. The moment his foot touched the grass, he smiled. He rolled the ball beneath his boot before flicking it into motion and began dribbling around the pitch.
"Yeah... don't worry." A voice suddenly echoed through the quiet evening. "I'll be there. You said ten o'clock, right? Relax, I'll make it."
Hidden in the shadows beside one of the buildings, a man leaned casually against the wall with a phone pressed to his ear.
His eyes never left Winston. A faint smirk spread across his face. "Yeah, yeah... ten o'clock." He glanced back toward Winston. "I'll call you later."
The call ended. Silence returned. Then the man stepped out of the shadows. "I've never seen you around here before."
Startled, Winston spun around. "Oh... sorry," he said quickly. "I saw the gate was open and couldn't resist. I was just leaving."
The stranger waved dismissively. "Nah, you're good."
He walked onto the pitch with relaxed confidence. "So... what's your name?"
"Winston."
The man nodded. "I'm Alex."
He stopped a few meters away and tapped the ball lightly with the side of his sneaker.
"How about a one-on-one?"
Only now did Winston get a proper look at him. Alex was tall and powerfully built, with dark skin and dreadlocks tied neatly into a ponytail. He wore a gray sleeveless vest, black shorts, and a pair of worn sneakers. Even standing casually, there was something about him that suggested he was no ordinary footballer.