Red Team

The kickoff after the goal felt different. Leon took the ball, his mind racing. The numbers still hovered, but they felt less like a judgment and more like a puzzle to solve. He needed to find the weakness, exploit the patterns.

He started dropping deeper, pulling Alex out of position. This created a pocket of space in the midfield. He signalled to Byon, who was constantly moving, drawing defenders wide. James saw it too, making a diagonal run into the vacated area.

Leon threaded a delicate pass through the gap. James received it, turned, and fired a quick shot. It whizzed just past the post, making the goalkeeper dive in vain. Close!

The red team found their rhythm. Leon orchestrated attacks. He constantly scanned the field, his "sight" picking up subtle shifts in player positions, the fatigue levels starting to show in some of the white team's players (their Current numbers dipping slightly).

Fifteen minutes later, the breakthrough came.

Leon won a tackle in midfield, dispossessing Alex with a clean slide. He immediately pushed forward, a burst of energy. He saw Byon making a darting run down the right, drawing two defenders. Leon then spotted Mark, the nervous fullback he'd encouraged earlier, making a surprising overlapping run down the left. His Current rating had edged up to 66.

"Mark! Now!" Leon roared, hitting a long, looping pass that soared over the white team's defense, landing perfectly at Mark's feet.

Mark, startled but determined, took a touch, looked up, and instead of crossing, he surprised everyone. He cut inside, dribbling past a bewildered defender, and then, from a tight angle, unleashed a powerful shot.

The goalkeeper, unsighted, could only parry it. The ball bounced off his hands, right into the path of a lurking James. James, quick as a flash, tapped it into the open net.

Red Team 1 - White Team 1!

The red team erupted. Byon sprinted to Mark, pulling him into a joyous hug. Joey pumped his fists, a wide grin replacing his earlier anxiety. Leon clapped, a wave of satisfaction washing over him. It wasn't just the goal; it was seeing his teammates grow, seeing them trust his calls. Mark, who was "not great on defense," had just made a game-changing offensive play.

The scouts were scribbling furiously. The Crystal Palace scout, who had been stone-faced, actually allowed a faint smile to touch his lips.

The remaining minutes of the match became a blur of frantic energy. Both teams pushed for the winner. Leon was everywhere, breaking up plays, starting new ones, his lungs burning.

He saw Byon attempt another dazzling run, James make several intelligent movements, and even Joey make another crucial save in the dying minutes.

The final whistle blew, echoing through the now dark academy grounds.

The scoreboard remained frozen: 1-1.

It wasn't a win, but it felt like one. The players collapsed onto the grass, exhausted but beaming. Leon walked over to Joey, who was still breathless.

"Told you, Joey," Leon said, a genuine smile on his face. "You were exactly what we needed."

Joey looked at him, his eyes shining. "Thanks, Leon. I… I actually felt like I could do it."

As they walked off the pitch, the cool night air refreshing their tired bodies, Leon felt a lightness he hadn't experienced in years. 

Just as they reached the edge of the field, the Aston Villa scout, a stern-looking man named Mr. Davies, approached them. He held his notepad, his gaze fixed on Leon.

"Leon Fischer," he said, his voice deep and measured. "My name is Davies. I'm with Aston Villa." He paused, then continued, his eyes piercing.

"We've been watching you. And we'd like to invite you for a longer trial. Tomorrow. Our academy."

Leon's heart skipped a beat. This wasn't just a nod; it was a door opening. He exchanged a quick, excited glance with Byon, whose eyes were wide with surprise and pride.

"And," Davies added, turning his gaze slightly toward Byon, "we were also impressed with your friend here. Byon, correct? We'd like to extend the same invitation to you."

Byon gasped, a disbelieving grin splitting his face. "Really? Both of us?"

Davies gave a curt nod. "Be at the academy gates, 9 AM sharp." He handed Leon a small card with an address, then turned and walked away into the shadows, leaving Leon and Byon standing under the stadium lights, the scent of damp grass still lingering in the air.

"Leon," Byon whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "We did it. We really did it!"

Leon looked at the card in his hand, then up at the stars beginning to dot the sky. A trial at Aston Villa. This was more than progress; this was a leap. His second life was truly beginning. He knew this was just the first step, but it felt like the world had just cracked open, revealing a path he'd only ever dreamed of.