The echoes of victory still lingered in Lombardia.
Three days had passed since the championship match, but the city hadn't stopped talking about Virtus Lombardia's miracle season. Posters of Jaeven's final goal, the 40-yard free kick, still hung in cafés, barbershops, and schools. Every sports network replayed his match-winning brace at least once a day.
And for the first time in his life, Jaeven wasn't just a footballer. He was a name.
A phenomenon.
A story everyone wanted to touch.
---
One Week Later
A quiet Sunday morning sunlight spilled across the narrow street outside a small men's salon in Lombardia's city center. Inside, Jaeven sat before a mirror, the faint hum of clippers and distant jazz filling the air.
He'd decided to change things. Not just because of the system's advice — but because he could feel it too. That growing spotlight. That subtle pull of fame that demanded he evolve.
The mirror reflected a young man with jet-black hair styled into soft layers that curved slightly at the fringe, framing his sharp jawline. His once unruly curls were now refined — controlled chaos. His eyes were clear, his skin glowing under the salon lights.
When the stylist finished, she took a small step back, her voice trembling slightly.
"You look... incredible, signore," she said, almost whispering.
Jaeven smiled faintly. "Thanks."
Her cheeks colored pink as she turned away quickly, pretending to check her tools.
When he stood, pulling on a dark turtleneck and tailored coat, even she couldn't hide the way her gaze followed him to the door. The subtle confidence in his walk was different now — quieter, heavier, magnetic.
The system's voice chimed faintly in his mind.
> [Notice: Due to increased public admiration, your Charm stat has permanently risen to 70 (A– Level).]
[Advisory: Adjust appearance accordingly to avoid media suspicion. Recommendation: Maintain professional style — subtle yet striking.]
He smirked softly. "You really think people are watching that much?"
> [Affirmative.]
[User has reached 'idol-level' appearance threshold.]
He didn't know whether to laugh or sigh. But deep down, he understood. The spotlight had already found him — he might as well own it.
---
The Invitation
Three days later, the black car arrived in front of his apartment.
"Virtus Lombardia's wonderboy, right?" the driver asked with a grin. "We're heading to the studio in Milan. Production's been buzzing about you all week."
Jaeven simply nodded, sliding into the back seat. The city lights flashed by as they drove — old buildings giving way to wide roads and bright billboards.
He remembered when all he wanted was to play football without pain. And now, people were watching him for reasons he hadn't even imagined.
A massive banner by the highway showed his celebration from the final: arms outstretched, head tilted back, confetti falling around him.
The caption read:
> "The Boy Who Made Lombardia Dream."
He looked away with a quiet breath. He didn't play for fame. But fame, it seemed, had chosen him.
---
Rising Boot Studios
The Rising Boot headquarters sat on the outskirts of Milan — a sleek modern building with silver panels that shimmered under the daylight. Cameras, crew members, and young players milled around in organized chaos.
As soon as Jaeven stepped through the glass doors, the atmosphere shifted.
Conversations softened. Eyes turned.
He was wearing a minimalist black ensemble — coat, turtleneck, fitted trousers, and silver chain. No flashiness. Yet every step drew attention like gravity.
Two female staff members at the reception desk froze mid-conversation. One blinked twice before whispering, "Dio mio…"
The other nudged her arm, whispering, "That's him, isn't it? The Virtus boy — Han…"
Jaeven offered a polite nod as he signed in.
Their hands trembled slightly when they handed him his ID card, cheeks pink.
"Th-thank you, Mr. Han," one said.
"Just Jaeven," he replied, tone gentle but distant.
Her heart practically skipped a beat.
Even as he moved down the corridor, the effect lingered — subtle murmurs following him like ripples.
---
Inside the Studio
The studio floor was a whirl of activity. Dozens of crew members adjusted lights and tested cameras. The massive LED screen behind the stage displayed the show's title card:
> RISING BOOT: WHERE FUTURE STARS RISE.
Twelve young players had been invited, all from different leagues across Serie A to D — Italy's next generation of football talent.
Some were already famous prodigies with agents and sponsorships. Others were local legends known for raw potential.
And then there was Jaeven — the enigma who had turned Serie D upside down.
As he entered, the chatter paused briefly again.
"Is that him?" a player whispered. "The one from Virtus Lombardia?"
"Yeah. The one who scored four in ten minutes."
"Man looks like he walked off a magazine cover."
Even the cameramen stole glances.
The producer, a tall man in a headset named Alberto, approached him with a warm handshake.
"Ah, Jaeven Han. Finally, we meet. I've been dying to get you on set."
Jaeven smiled slightly. "Thanks for inviting me."
"Invite? No, no," Alberto laughed. "We begged Virtus for this. You're the face everyone's been talking about since the championship."
He gestured toward the stage. "We'll be starting soon. Just relax, enjoy the atmosphere. You're among rising stars."
But even among rising stars, Jaeven stood out like a black diamond among polished stones.
---
Pre-Recording Buzz
The players gathered near the stage, chatting and laughing.
A few approached Jaeven — curious, cautious.
"You're the Virtus kid, right?" said Luca Marino, a talented midfielder from Serie C. "That free kick… mamma mia, I thought it was CGI."
Jaeven chuckled softly. "Just timing."
Another one, Enzo from Serie B, grinned. "You made Mantova cry, man. You've got no mercy."
"Guess they'll come back stronger," Jaeven replied with a small smile.
Even his modesty carried an aura — calm, sharp, unreadable.
Off to the side, a few female staffers kept sneaking glances. One of them nearly dropped her clipboard when Jaeven met her eyes by accident. Her face turned crimson as she quickly looked away, muttering, "Scusa…"
It wasn't vanity that made him notice — it was awareness. Ever since that match, people looked at him differently.
Like he was both familiar and unreachable.
The system had been right — his presence alone now commanded attention.
---
Recording Begins
"Alright, everyone!" Alberto clapped his hands. "We're live in five!"
The stage lights came on, bathing the set in warm gold. Twelve chairs were arranged in a crescent formation, each with a nameplate.
Jaeven took his seat, second from the right.
The host, a bright young woman named Sofia Leone, stepped forward with her radiant smile.
"Welcome, everyone, to the pilot episode of Rising Boot — where the next generation of Italian footballers share their stories, dreams, and maybe… a few secrets."
Laughter echoed softly.
Sofia turned toward the group. "Let's start with introductions, shall we?"
Each player spoke briefly — where they played, what inspired them, their goals.
When it reached Jaeven, the lights subtly shifted to focus on him.
Sofia smiled, leaning slightly forward. "And now, the name that's been on every headline — Jaeven Moretti Han, Virtus Lombardia's golden boy. Tell us a little about yourself."
The cameras zoomed in.
Jaeven paused for a second before speaking, voice low and calm.
"I'm sixteen. I play as a left winger and second striker for Virtus Lombardia. I love football because it's… freedom. It's where I feel most alive."
Sofia nodded, intrigued. "Freedom, huh? Not fame? Not trophies?"
Jaeven shook his head gently. "Those come and go. But when the ball's at your feet, and the world's quiet — that feeling never leaves."
Even the other players went silent.
Sofia smiled again. "Beautifully said. You sound more like a poet than a footballer."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe football's just poetry in motion."
A ripple of laughter and applause followed. The producer behind the cameras whispered, "Keep him talking."
And so they did.
His segment stretched longer — questions about Virtus' rise, his mindset, his style.
Each answer was measured yet profound, revealing glimpses of both humility and confidence.
When the topic of the final came up, Sofia leaned closer again. "Four goals in ten minutes. That's almost impossible. What were you thinking in those moments?"
Jaeven tilted his head slightly. "That we weren't done yet. When you love something enough, you don't accept endings that aren't yours."
The studio fell quiet again, the air charged.
Even the cameramen exchanged looks — the kind you share when you realize you're watching something rare.
Sofia smiled softly. "You really are something else, Jaeven Han."
He simply nodded, a small, polite smile — the kind that somehow made every female staff member behind the scenes blush harder.
---
Off-Camera
When recording paused for a short break, the players mingled again.
Sofia approached him with a bottle of water. "You were amazing out there," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's like the camera loves you."
"I think you're just saying that," he replied lightly.
"I'm serious. You've got presence — like you've been doing this for years."
She smiled again, and for a moment, her professional composure slipped. Her cheeks warmed slightly as she looked at him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were an actor."
"Just a footballer," he said. "For now."
Their eyes met briefly — calm, magnetic — before a crew member called her back to the stage.
Sofia exhaled quietly, muttering under her breath, "Damn."
---
Public Reaction
By the time the pilot finished recording, the production crew was buzzing.
"He's unreal," one technician whispered. "The way he talks, the way he moves — it's like he's already a star."
Another nodded. "If this episode goes live, half the country's going to fall for that kid."
Later that night, a small teaser from the show leaked on social media.
A short clip — Jaeven saying "Maybe football's just poetry in motion."
Within hours, it went viral.
Thousands of comments flooded in:
> "Who is this kid?"
"He talks like an artist."
"That face. That aura."
"Virtus Lombardia might have Italy's next icon."
And for the first time, the spotlight wasn't just about football.
It was about him.
---
End of the Day
As the sun dipped below the Milan skyline, Jaeven stepped out of the studio into the cool evening air. The sky was streaked with gold and violet.
He looked up quietly, hands tucked in his coat pockets.
Behind him, through the glass walls, he could still hear laughter and chatter — his name being mentioned again and again.
The driver opened the door for him. "You did great in there, Mr. Han. They're saying the episode's gold."
Jaeven nodded with a small smile, stepping inside.
As the car pulled away, the city lights reflected in the window beside him.
He could already tell — this was just the beginning.
The game had given him purpose.
Fame was giving him a stage.
But deep down, what mattered most hadn't changed.
He still just wanted to play — to feel that freedom again.
And somewhere, beneath the bright chaos of Milan's skyline, destiny was quietly preparing the next chapter of his rise.