miranbajrami59

Luca Herrera has nothing but a ball, a dream, and a father who believes in him.

At fifteen, he's growing up in the shadows of Barcelona, in a neighborhood where hope is rare and talent goes unnoticed. But Luca’s feet speak a language few understand—until one summer night, everything changes.

A mysterious system awakens within him. Stats. Quests. Skills. A legendary template

Suddenly, the impossible becomes real. Faster dribbling. Sharper vision. A path to glory.

But the journey from the streets to the spotlight isn’t just about talent—it’s about hunger, pressure, records, and sacrifice. As the world begins to take notice, Luca must decide what kind of legend he’s going to become.

The system can help him rise.
But only he can break the game.

System 10: Record Breaker

The early morning sun painted golden streaks across the sky as the Barça team bus pulled out of Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper, its sleek frame humming softly as it made its way out of the city and toward the town of Barbastro. Inside, the mood was calm—focused—but warm. That mix of quiet anticipation and shared belief.

Luca sat near the back window, hood half up, headphones resting around his neck, not over his ears. The buzz of conversation filled the cabin, with the occasional laugh or shout cutting through like sunlight through curtains.

Gavi leaned over from the seat next to Pedri."I heard their pitch is a bit tighter than ours. That could mess with spacing."Pedri shrugged, sipping from his protein shake. "We adjust. We've played in tighter places before."

Across the aisle, Lamine Yamal was watching clips of Barbastro's previous games on his tablet. He waved Luca over.

"Check this," he said, rewinding a sequence. "Their right-back likes to push up too far. If you time your diagonal…"Luca nodded, grinning. "I'm gone. I'll make him pay for that."

Further up the bus, Raphinha was playing music through a small speaker—some mellow Brazilian beats that fit the mood perfectly. Even Lewandowski, always more serious before games, was tapping his fingers on the seat in rhythm.

Coach Flick walked the aisle once, then again, his hands behind his back, pausing to share a quiet word here and there. He didn't need to raise his voice. His presence carried enough weight.

"Big game today, boys," said assistant coach Peña from the front. "Not because of the name, but because of what's at stake. Three points we need. Stay sharp. Stay us."

The players nodded. Heads turned back to the road. Conversations returned to a low murmur.

Luca stared out the window, watching the Catalan countryside roll by. He thought about where he was a few months ago—La Masia dorms, carrying his training boots like a dreamer. Now, he was in the first team bus, on his way to represent FC Barcelona.

His phone buzzed with a message from his father:"Proud of you. Always. Play your game."

He smiled and typed back:"Thanks, Dad. I'll give everything."

Up front, the kit man stood and shouted:"Quick headcount! If anyone's missing, speak now or forever hold your peace."

"We left Ferran at the gas station!" Raphinha joked.Everyone cracked up. Ferran, who wasn't even on the trip, became the running joke for the next ten minutes.

Closer to arrival, silence began to settle. Earbuds went in, hoods went up. Players stared forward, lost in routines. The rhythm of wheels on asphalt became a steady heartbeat. Gavi was bouncing his knee. Pedri adjusted his wrist tape. Lamine took a deep breath.

Luca closed his eyes for a moment.

He pictured the crowd. The whistle. The first touch.He pictured the moment the ball came to his feet—and the moment it hit the net.

Chapter 32 – Game Day: Road to Barbastro