Training

Kelvin waited anxiously for the moment to arrive. During class, he couldn't stop counting the minutes until the bell rang and he could finally head to the school court. It was the perfect chance to show everything he had learned in the past two months since the system appeared in his life.

While the teacher explained about cell structures, he wasn't paying attention. His eyes were fixed on the digital clock on the wall, and his mind was far away, focused on the system, more specifically, on testing his new abilities. Not only that, but there was something else that caught his attention: the mission XP.

He had already noticed that some missions only gave small amounts of XP. Maybe it was because of his progress, or the complexity of the objectives. However, now he was exactly 30 XP away from leveling up. And this mission, "Make a Good Impression," promised to deliver that amount. It was as if the system had guided him directly to this moment.

The bell rang.

Kelvin stood up immediately. His muscles were tense, his heartbeat accelerated, as if he were about to enter a final match. The adrenaline rushed through every blood vessel, sending a single message: run.

He quickly went down the stairs from the second floor, crossed the courtyard, and turned right down the hallway where the court was located. The sports building was more isolated, away from the rest of the classrooms. Next to the covered court, there was a simple locker room, with rubber flooring and a strong smell of disinfectant mixed with the old sweat of past matches.

Kelvin pushed open the door to the boys' bathroom with one hand, holding his backpack in the other. Inside, a few rusty showers dripped continuously. The mirrors were slightly stained, and wooden benches along the wall served as a place for students to change clothes.

He placed his backpack on the bench and started removing his school uniform, quickly changing into his black sports shirt, training shorts, and his brand-new cleats that still smelled of fresh rubber. Just as he finished tying the laces, he heard the door open behind him.

– Hmm... You came for the tryouts too, huh? – said a voice he had heard before.

Kelvin looked up. It was the same boy who had spoken to Coach Rafael earlier in the classroom, the one who sat behind him.

– Yeah – Kelvin replied shortly, still wary of the boy's boldness for asking about the club during class.

The boy stepped closer, leaning against the same bench.

– My name's Ian – he said, extending a hand with a smile.

Kelvin studied the handshake for a moment before accepting it.

– Kelvin.

– What school are you from, Kelvin? – Ian asked while opening his backpack and pulling out a pair of worn-out but sturdy sneakers. – I used to go to Barros School.

– I did all of middle school at Carvalho.

– Got it. – Ian put on his sneakers. – Trying out for what position? Defender, midfielder, striker?

Kelvin stayed silent for a moment.

– Striker.

– Oh, striker. – Ian chuckled, as if pleased with the answer. – This is going to be fun.

Kelvin narrowed his eyes.

– And you?

– Midfielder. I like having possession of the ball. In my view, the most important role is the midfield. It's the heart of the team, Kelvin.

There was a brief moment of silence. Kelvin couldn't tell if the boy was trying to make conversation, size him up, or just being friendly. But something about Ian gave him a slight sense of rivalry.

– I hope you're a good striker – Ian said, throwing a light smile before leaving the locker room and heading toward the court.

Kelvin finished getting dressed, adjusted the collar of his shirt, grabbed his backpack, and left it leaning against one of the lockers. When he stepped out of the bathroom, the court lights felt brighter than ever.

It was time to prove the reason behind all his training.

And the system, as if giving a small reminder, displayed a new notification blinking discreetly at the bottom corner of his vision:

[Mission in Progress...]

Kelvin took a deep breath and began walking toward the center of the court. He scanned the area quickly and spotted Rafael, Ian, and several other people he didn't recognize. They all seemed to know each other already, laughing and juggling the ball as they waited for the session to begin. Even though it didn't look like an official team, there was clearly some familiarity among them.

Coach Rafael wore a school polo shirt with "Sanu" embroidered on the sleeve, a stopwatch hanging around his neck, and a clipboard in hand. His expression was serious, but his eyes observed everything closely. As soon as he saw Kelvin approaching, he took two steps forward.

– Kelvin, right? – he said, without looking up from the clipboard.

– Yes, sir.

– Glad to see you're on time. We'll start with a light practice. No game yet. I want to observe movement, conditioning, and ball control. – he then turned to the rest of the group – Split into two groups. We'll begin with passing and running drills. Kazana, lead one side.

Kelvin positioned himself among the other boys. Most of them looked reasonably fit, some even more than he was. He discreetly clenched his fists, feeling a slight vibration in the palm of his hand.

[Instinctive Dribbling Style – Active]

He felt lighter. His reflexes sharper, and his feet restless, eager to touch the ball.

The activity began. The drill was simple: short sprints, dribbling through cones, precise passing at the end. Kelvin watched the first three students go through the course. Good, but not outstanding. As he took in this information, a tingling sensation grew inside him. He wanted more. Seeing how the others performed, he knew perfectly well that this light drill wouldn't satisfy him. It wouldn't let him see how far he had truly come.

When it was his turn, he ran with pinpoint accuracy, his feet hitting the ground with rhythm and grace. As he weaved through the cones, his left leg moved almost automatically, guiding the ball with ease. At the end, he made a sharp pass, straight to Ian's feet, who looked back at him with raised eyebrows, clearly impressed.

– Not bad – Ian said, kicking the ball back to the next person in line.

Kelvin returned to the end of the line, heart pounding. Not from physical effort, but from excitement.

After a few more rounds, Rafael blew his whistle and called everyone to the center of the court.

– Now we're moving on to a possession drill. Two touches, small field. Kelvin, Ian, you two are on the same team. I want to see how you communicate.