The tension between Winston and Diago had become noticeable to everyone in the attacking dome. The short, bald instructor was impressed by Winston's calm demeanour. What he didn't know was that Winston was struggling to keep his anger under control. Whenever he felt his temper rising, he remembered Dr. Haruto's warning and forced himself to remain calm.
The instructor blew his whistle and gestured for the players to gather around him.
"Bring it in!"
Once everyone had formed a huddle, he surveyed the group with a satisfied expression. "I'm enjoying what I'm seeing. Some of you have improved your finishing skills. Now, we'll focus on crosses."
He paused briefly before explaining the drill, "You'll be divided into groups of four, with one striker and three attacking midfielders. Two midfielders will deliver the crosses, while the remaining midfielder will compete for the ball alongside the striker. Remember, the purpose of this drill is to improve your timing and ability to attack crosses. You need to anticipate the ball's trajectory and position yourselves properly before it arrives."
With that, the instructor's assistants began dividing the players into groups. Darwin was paired with Lucas and two other midfielders. His twin brother, Noah, was grouped with Sebastian, Duke, and another midfielder. Winston, meanwhile, was paired with Diago, Diego, and another midfielder.
After a while, the assistants finished arranging the groups, "You can't get away from me," Diago chuckled as he stood beside Winston and their other teammate.
Winston ignored him and swept his gaze across the dome.
Ever since training had begun in the attacking dome, the players had gradually formed their own cliques. Whenever a drill required them to work in pairs or groups, they naturally gravitated toward their friends and familiar teammates. Of course, the bald, short instructor had noticed this behaviour. That was precisely why he had taken it upon himself to separate them.
The players assumed the training sessions were becoming easier, but they had failed to understand the instructor's true intentions. He wasn't merely teaching them to improve their football skills. He was also studying their personalities, observing who genuinely wanted to pursue a professional career and who relied too heavily on familiar faces during training and one-on-one challenges.
As he watched the players exchanging uncertain glances, he raised his whistle to his lips and blew. The murmuring inside the dome gradually died down. With everyone's attention on him, he pointed toward the first group. The striker and one of the midfielders stepped into Zone 14, while the other two midfielders moved to opposite sides of the crossing area and prepared to deliver the ball.
The instructor blew his whistle.
Both midfielders waiting in Zone 14 immediately made their runs, anticipating the incoming cross. On the left, one of the midfielders nudged the ball forward before curling it into the penalty area. The striker and his teammate used body feints to position themselves for the delivery. One of them gained the better position and headed the ball into the net.
Each midfielder responsible for delivering crosses was given three attempts. By the end of the drill, the striker had lost by two goals to nil. The instructor blew his whistle again and pointed toward Darwin's group.
"Next!"
Darwin quickly stepped into Zone 14, with Lucas walking beside him. Naturally, there was tension between the two. "I wonder how your brother would play without his twin holding his hand," Lucas remarked. He performed a few standing stretches, glancing toward Noah before turning his attention to Sebastian, who watched the exchange with an indifferent expression.
Darwin shook his head and chuckled, "Is that why you needed someone to challenge Oswin on your behalf, so you could sneak in and injure him? Pathetic."
Lucas's expression darkened, "You—" The instructor's whistle cut him off.
Both players immediately entered the penalty area and prepared for the first cross. The midfielder on the right struck an aerial ball toward them. Lucas leaned backward and shoved Darwin, attempting to throw him off balance. As the ball arced toward them, Lucas stretched out his leg, positioning himself to meet the delivery with his foot.
However, Darwin reacted quickly. Despite the contact, he twisted his body, using Lucas's momentum against him. Lucas lost his balance and fell as Darwin launched himself into the air, striking the ball with a flying kick. The ball flew into the net—Darwin landed, pushed himself back to his feet, and immediately prepared for the next cross.
Lucas, on the other hand, was still recovering from his fall. By the time he stood upright, the next ball was already on its way. Darwin reacted first, jumping to meet the delivery and heading it into the net.
Another aerial ball followed.
This time, both players tracked its trajectory closely, their eyes fixed on the ball. Neither seemed to notice that their legs had become entangled as they struggled for position. When they tried to break free, both lost their balance and fell to the ground, allowing the ball to sail past them.
They quickly scrambled back to their feet as the next delivery came in. Lucas drove his elbow into Darwin's chest. Darwin retaliated by driving his knee into Lucas's back. Both players collapsed again, and the ball sailed harmlessly past them. The pattern continued until all six crosses had been delivered.
Throughout the drill, neither player had shown any willingness to compete fairly. Instead of concentrating on timing their runs and attacking the crosses, they had repeatedly resorted to shoving, tripping, and striking each other.
The short, bald instructor watched them with growing disapproval. Finally, he shook his head and blew his whistle, bringing the drill to an end. What he had just witnessed was not competitive spirit. It was poor sportsmanship.
"Both of you give me 10 laps around the dome," The bald, short instructor yelled.
Sebastian, Noah, Duke, and another midfielder walked toward the crossing area.
"Are you sure you can take him on? I can take your place if you want," Duke said, worried that Noah might not be ready to face Sebastian.
Noah shook his head. "Don't worry. I've got this."
When Duke looked at him, he saw determination in Noah's eyes, despite his youthful, feminine features. Duke nodded and headed toward the crossing area, leaving Noah to face Sebastian.
As they approached Zone 14, Sebastian studied Noah from the corner of his eye. Maybe I should use his brother to get him to challenge me to a one-on-one.
"Congratulations on finally standing on your own instead of hiding in your brother's shadow," Sebastian remarked, glancing at Noah beside him.
To Sebastian, Noah looked like a little kid. Yet when Noah looked at Sebastian, the other boy seemed like a giant standing beside him.
"Shut your mouth! You don't know anything about me or my brother." The irritation on Noah's usually gentle face was unmistakable. "I'll show you that no matter how much fancy training your rich father pays for, you can't beat hard work. I'll show you what someone can achieve without all those fancy machines."
Sebastian clicked his tongue, "We'll see."
For a brief moment, Noah glanced at him and noticed something strange in Sebastian's eyes. Beneath his confident expression, he glimpsed a sense of loneliness, an emptiness that seemed at odds with the his intimidating presence.
Before Noah could dwell on it, the short, bald instructor blew his whistle. Both players quickly entered the penalty area and prepared for the first cross. The midfielder on the right delivered an aerial ball. It followed a high trajectory before dipping toward the middle of the box.
Noah tracked its flight, scrambling to position himself beneath it. Just as he prepared to jump, Sebastian suddenly leapt in front of him. Caught off guard, Noah lost his balance and fell backward onto the grass.
The ball sailed past them and rolled into the net. Sebastian landed, stepped over Noah, and turned toward Duke, who was preparing to deliver the next cross. Rather than immediately crossing, Duke waited for Noah to get back to his feet.
Once Noah was standing again, Duke sent a long cross toward him. Noah was positioned behind Sebastian, but he reacted quickly, throwing himself forward to meet the ball with his head.
The header flew into the net—the other midfielder quickly delivered another cross. This time, Sebastian reacted first, leaping into the air and heading the ball into the net before Noah could reach it. Then it was Duke's turn to deliver the next cross—Sebastian narrowed his eyes and glanced over his shoulder. He spotted Noah jogging toward the edge of the penalty area, preparing to make another run.
Sebastian briefly shifted his attention away from him. That was all Duke needed—he struck a curling cross toward Noah. Sebastian reacted instantly, exploding forward with his trademark acceleration. He reached the ball just before Noah and powered a header into the net.
Their heads collided as both players attempted to reach the cross. Noah stumbled from the impact, while Sebastian regained his balance and moved away. The drill continued, growing increasingly physical as the remaining crosses were delivered. Neither player was willing to back down, and the contest became less about timing their runs and more about preventing the other from winning the ball.
By the time all six crosses had been completed, the short, bald instructor had seen enough. He blew his whistle—Duke and Darwin immediately rushed toward Noah, who had been knocked backward during his final attempt to challenge Sebastian. A thin trickle of blood ran from Noah's nose.
Darwin's expression darkened. He stared at Sebastian, his hands curling into fists. Sebastian glanced at the twins, his face equally grim. Without saying a word, he turned and walked toward the sideline.
Darwin pushed himself upright, ready to follow him. But Noah caught his hand, "Brother, don't. You'll get suspended. I'm okay."
Darwin hesitated, his fists still clenched. After a moment, he looked down at his twin and nodded, choosing to stay beside him. He crouched to check on Noah, gently examining the blood running from his nose. Meanwhile, the short, bald instructor watched the scene with a stern expression. He turned his head slightly and gestured to one of his assistants, signaling for him to check on the injured player.