Chapter 3 : La Masia

Johan placed both hands on Nico's small shoulders, his grip firm but not harsh. His eyes, once filled with warmth, now held the weight of wisdom—of a man who had seen it all.

"I know you love football, Nico," he said, his voice quiet but unwavering. "That love will push you forward, but there will be days when it won't be enough."

Nico listened intently, his young heart beating fast.

"There will be days when your body aches, when your mind tells you to stop, when everyone around you says you've already done enough." Johan knelt down, bringing himself to eye level with his grandson. "But I want you to remember something."

He let the silence linger, making sure Nico was absorbing every word.

Johan's voice was like steel when he finally spoke.

"If you have the talent to be the best in the world, it is a sin to football if you don't work hard to fulfill it."

Nico's breath hitched.

A sin to football?

The weight of those words crashed onto him like a tidal wave. Football wasn't just a game. It wasn't just about playing well. It was a responsibility.

If he had the talent to be the best, then he owed it to the sport—to the millions who loved it, to the players who never got the chance—to give it everything.

Johan stood up, patting Nico's head gently.

"If you can promise me one thing, promise me this—whenever you feel like slacking off, whenever you feel like stopping… remember that sentence. Engrave it into your heart."

Nico clenched his fists.

He wouldn't forget.

Ever.

This wasn't just a dream anymore.

It was his duty.

__________

Three years had passed since that day.

Three years since Nico Cryuff had made a promise to himself—to football.

For 1,095 days, his life had been a relentless cycle of discipline, sacrifice, and unwavering dedication. There was no childhood of laziness, no carefree moments of indulgence. His was a path carved from sheer will.

Every single morning, without fail, he woke up at 4 AM.

An hour of yoga to maintain flexibility and prevent injuries.

An hour of jogging to build endurance.

An hour of free kick practice, striking ball after ball until perfection was the only result.

An hour of gym work, strengthening his young body far beyond his years.

Then, school.

After school, while other kids played without a care in the world, Nico was back at it.

Dribbling drills.

Shooting practice.

Ball control work.

Every meal he ate was meticulously planned by a nutritionist. Not once in three years had he strayed from the diet. No chocolate. No candy. No chips. Not even a sip of soda.

But temptation? Oh, it was there.

There were nights when he saw other kids eating sweets and felt his resolve waver. There were mornings when his muscles screamed for rest, when the idea of just skipping one training session whispered in his ear.

And every single time, just as doubt tried to creep in—he would hear his grandfather's voice in his mind:

"If you have the talent to be the best in the world, it is a sin to football if you don't work hard to fulfill it."

A sin.

How could he betray the game he loved?

How could he betray himself?

So, he pushed harder.

Fought temptation.

Trained through exhaustion.

And now, at eight years old, Nico Cryuff was no longer just a talented boy.

He was a monster in the making.

________

July 4, 2008 – Nico's 8th Birthday

Steam filled the bathroom as warm water cascaded down Nico's body. He had just finished another grueling morning of training, and though his muscles ached, there was a quiet satisfaction in the burn.

Today was his birthday.

Eight years old. Three years of relentless training had forged him into something different—something greater.

As he leaned against the shower wall, he whispered the familiar command.

"System."

A rectangular hologram flickered into existence before his eyes, glowing with a soft blue light.

[System Interface]

Name: Nico Cryuff

Date of Birth: July 4, 2000

Age: 8Height: 132 cm

Weight: 30 kg

Attributes:

Pace: 38

Dribbling: 42

Shooting: 36

Passing: 41

Defending: 27

Physical: 39

Stamina: 40

SP Calculation:1 SP per day for 3 years (1,095 days) = 1,095 SPLeftover SP from before = 100 SP

Total SP: 1,195

Shop (Unlocked)

Marseille Turn – 300 SP

La Croqueta – 300 SP

S-Shaped Free Kick (Owned)

Cryuff Turn – 300 SP

Pendulum – 300 SP

Step Overs (Owned)

10 SP = 1 Attribute Point

Nico's emerald-green eyes narrowed as he examined his progress.

His attributes had skyrocketed compared to when he first awakened the system. Three years of training had pushed him to heights no normal eight-year-old could dream of.

And his SP balance—1,195 SP.

Three years of accumulation. One SP every day, plus the 100 SP he had left over.

Nico smirked.

It was time to level up.

What skills should he buy?

Nico's eyes scanned the shop, his mind calculating. He had 1,195 SP, a wealth of points earned through sheer dedication.

His fingers hovered over the holographic interface as he made his choices.

- Marseille Turn – 300 SP- La Croqueta – 300 SP- Pendulum – 300 SP

A total of 900 SP was deducted, leaving him with 295 SP.

As soon as he confirmed the purchase, a notification flashed across the system screen.

[System Update Notice]"The Shop will be temporarily closed for one year for an upgrade. Please wait patiently for new features and improvements."

Nico raised an eyebrow. A one-year update? That was unexpected, but it didn't matter. He had already secured the skills he needed.

He clenched his fists, feeling an odd sensation in his body—like knowledge flowing into him, his muscles subtly adjusting, his brain absorbing movements he had never practiced before.

As Nico stepped out of the bathroom, a wave of dizziness washed over him. His vision blurred momentarily, his legs feeling unsteady beneath him. The strange sensation from the system purchases still lingered, as if his body was adjusting to the influx of new skills.

He placed a hand on the sink, taking a deep breath. Within seconds, the dizziness faded, leaving behind a feeling of lightness—of power.

His gaze lifted to the mirror, and he couldn't help but giggle.

Staring back at him was a boy who looked nothing short of ethereal.

His emerald green eyes shimmered with an almost hypnotic glow, sharp yet innocent. His silky black hair, wavy and effortlessly perfect, cascaded neatly over his forehead. His skin, now porcelain white, had a flawless, almost divine glow, as if sculpted by the gods themselves.

But what shocked him most was his physique.

He lifted his shirt slightly, revealing a set of eight-pack abs—each muscle carved with precision, his body lean yet perfectly toned. His arms and legs, though still those of an eight-year-old, held definition no child his age should have.

His face had changed too. If he had been cute before, now he was beyond beautiful—so much so that if he stepped outside, people might mistake him for a child actor or a young prince from a fairytale.

He let out a small laugh, running a hand through his hair.

"At this rate, Grandma is going to tease me even more."

____________

Nico made his way down the stairs, his steps light and effortless. The scent of freshly prepared food filled the air as he entered the kitchen. Without hesitation, he picked up the breakfast sent by the nutritionist—a perfectly balanced meal designed to fuel his body for the day ahead.

He moved to the dining room and took his seat. His grandparents were already eating, the atmosphere warm and familiar.

As always, Grandma Danny was doting over him, her eyes full of affection.

"Nico, dear, are you sure you're eating enough? You've been growing so fast! Maybe I should add something extra to your diet," she fussed, reaching out to pinch his cheek.

Nico chuckled, dodging playfully. "Grandma, I'm fine. My meals are already planned by professionals, remember?"

Johan smirked from across the table, sipping his coffee.

The conversation drifted towards a movie they had watched recently, Danny passionately describing her favorite scenes while Johan simply shook his head at her enthusiasm.

But then, his grandfather turned to him, his tone shifting slightly.

"Nico," Johan said, setting down his fork. "The trial for La Masia is today. We'll be leaving right after breakfast."

Nico blinked, his fork pausing mid-air. His emerald eyes widened in surprise.

"Wait… what?" He looked at Johan in disbelief. "The La Masia trial is today?"

Johan nodded calmly, taking another sip of his coffee.

Nico set his fork down, his mind racing. Why hadn't his grandfather mentioned this earlier?

"Grandpa, why didn't you tell me before?" he asked, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and mild frustration.

Johan smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Because if I had, you would've overthought it and trained even harder. You already work like a man possessed—I didn't want you exhausting yourself before the big day."

Nico opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He knew Johan was right. If he had known earlier, he would've pushed himself to the limit, barely sleeping, obsessing over every detail.

He exhaled, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "You're unbelievable, Grandpa."

Johan simply shrugged. "I know."

Danny, meanwhile, was completely unfazed, cutting a piece of fruit and placing it on Nico's plate. "Eat up, my little genius. You need to be at your best today."

Nico took a deep breath, his heart still pounding. La Masia. The trial. It was happening today.

A slow, determined smile spread across his face.

This was his moment.

__________

after finishing breakfast, they stepped out of the house, the morning sun casting a golden glow over the city. Johan started the car, and they drove toward La Masia, the legendary academy where the future of FC Barcelona was shaped.

Nico sat in the back seat, his hands resting on his knees. The excitement bubbling within him was undeniable, but he kept his expression calm.

As they arrived, the iconic red and blue crest of Barcelona welcomed them. The facility was buzzing with young talents, all gathered for the same reason—a chance to wear the Blaugrana colors.

Johan and Danny accompanied Nico inside, signing the necessary paperwork for the trial. Once everything was in order, Johan patted Nico's shoulder.

"Go on," he said with a small smile. "Show them who you are."

Nico nodded and walked toward the field, where the other trialists were gathered. The air was thick with tension, nervous whispers filling the space as everyone sized up their competition.

Then, the coach arrived—a stern-looking man with sharp eyes and a clipboard in hand.

"Alright, listen up! I'm going to call your names. When you hear it, step forward and tell me your position," the coach announced.

One by one, the names were called. Each player stepped forward, their voices laced with determination as they declared their positions.

And then—

"Nico Cruyff."

The moment the name echoed across the field, the murmurs stopped.

A stunned silence took over. The name 'Cruyff' wasn't just a name in Barcelona—it was a legacy. A name that carried respect, history, and weight beyond measure.

Every young player standing there knew who Johan Cruyff was. And now, his grandson was standing among them.

Nico, unfazed by the sudden attention, stepped forward confidently. He looked the coach straight in the eyes.

"Attacking midfielder. But I can also play as a winger if needed."

The coach studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod, marking something down on his clipboard.

"All right. Let's see what you can do."

________

The trial was set—a 20-minute, 7-on-7 scrimmage to evaluate the players' skills.

Nico was placed as an attacking midfielder, the heartbeat of the team. The moment the match kicked off, he took control.

From the first touch, it was clear—he was on a different level.

He weaved through defenders with ease, his dribbling so fluid that it seemed like the ball was glued to his feet. His passes were precise, effortless, devastating—each one splitting defenses like a knife through butter.

By the time the final whistle blew, the scoreboard read 9-0.

Nico had scored 5 goals and assisted the other 4.

The entire field was in shock. Even the other trialists, who had started the game eager to impress, could only watch in awe as he orchestrated everything like a seasoned professional.

The coach, who had been closely observing every player, had seen enough.

He walked up to Nico, eyes sharp, expression unreadable—then spoke.

"You don't have to participate in the other trials," he said, his voice carrying a rare edge of excitement. "You're selected."

Nico simply nodded, unfazed, but inside, he felt a spark of satisfaction.

The coach glanced toward the stands where Johan was watching, then turned back to Nico.

"Go wait with your grandfather. I'll speak with you both after the trials."

Nico didn't say much. He just walked off the field, his presence still lingering in the stunned silence of everyone who had just witnessed the birth of something special.

___________

As the trials wrapped up, the coach made his way toward the stands where Johan and Nico were waiting. His expression was a mix of amusement and admiration, still processing what he had just witnessed on the field.

He approached them with a respectful nod. "Johan."

Johan smiled, shaking his hand. "Good to see you, Coach."

The coach then turned to Nico, looking at him like he was some kind of phenomenon. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What did you do to this kid?" he asked Johan, laughing. "He's too good for the U-10s. It wouldn't even be fair."

Johan smirked. "I just taught him the right way to play football."

The coach exhaled, then looked at Nico again. "I'm moving you straight to the U-14s. You'll be training with them from tomorrow."

Nico didn't react much—he simply nodded, but inside, he felt exhilarated. Skipping four age groups? That wasn't normal.

Johan, however, remained calm. "That's a good decision," he said. "He needs real challenges."

The coach laughed again. "Real challenges? If he plays like that every day, he'll need to be in the first team by next year."

Johan just smiled knowingly.

The coach patted Nico's shoulder. "Welcome to La Masia, kid. Training starts tomorrow." Then, with a final nod, he walked away.

Nico clenched his fists slightly, excitement bubbling inside him. This was it. The real journey was about to begin.

_________