Bologna. Adrian Vance's Apartment.Saturday Night (1 Day Before the Reserve Match).
"You are a Ferrari engine inside a lawnmower chassis."
Adrian threw a piece of paper onto the glass coffee table. Rio picked it up. It was the biometric analysis from this morning's training session.
[Physical Analysis: Rio Valdes]
Top Speed: 28 km/h (Serie A Average: 32 km/h) Muscular Strength: Grade E (Critical Weakness) VO2 Max (Stamina): Very Low.
"You have lethal technique," Adrian pointed to his tablet, which was looping the video of Rio humiliating Lorenzo with The Matador. "But your body is scrap metal. That skill saved you today, but what happens when you have to run box-to-box for 90 minutes? You will collapse before the final whistle."
Rio sat on the expensive leather sofa, massaging his calves which still felt hot and tight. "I know," Rio muttered. "This Bionic Heart keeps me alive, but it doesn't make me Superman."
Rio opened the System Interface in his vision.
[Current Lifespan: 363 Days, 10 Hours, 00 Minutes]
He had less than a year. Every time he used an Active Skill, his life shortened. He couldn't spam The Cannon or The Matador constantly. He would be bankrupt—and dead—within a month if he played like that.
"Tomorrow is the match against the Primavera (U-19 Team)," Adrian swiped the screen to show a tactical lineup. "Do not underestimate them. They are hungry. They are fast. And they hate you."
Adrian zoomed in on a photo of a blonde player in the opposing squad. "Stefano Ricci. Captain of the Primavera. Position: Attacking Midfielder. He was promised a promotion to the first team this season, but his spot was taken by you." Adrian looked Rio in the eye. "Stefano won't play football tomorrow. He will try to murder your career. And Rossi? Rossi will let him do it."
"So what's the plan?" Rio asked. "Do I buy a Dribbling Skill? Ronaldinho? Messi?"
"Don't be stupid," Adrian snapped. "Those cost 15 to 30 days! Do you want to waste a month of your life just to show off in a training match?" Adrian tapped his temple. "Use your brain. And use your System for something more... economical."
Adrian drew a red circle around Rio's position on the digital pitch: Number 10. "Rossi will ask you to play as the Playmaker. He wants you to hold the ball. He wants you to dribble so Stefano can smash you with high pressing. It's a trap." Adrian smiled coldly. "So, don't hold the ball."
"What do you mean?"
"One touch," Adrian said. "Receive, pass. Receive, pass. Make the ball move faster than Stefano's legs. But to do that, you need Vision."
Rio fell silent. Vision. The ability to see a gap before it exists. Rio's current Passing and Vision stats were stuck at 50 (F-Grade). Tactically, he was blind.
"Search your Shop," Adrian commanded, as if he knew exactly what the System offered. "Find something cheap but effective. Look for 'Consumables'."
Rio's Bedroom.Midnight.
Rio lay on the unfamiliar mattress, staring at the ceiling. He opened the [Lifespan Shop].
He ignored the flashy Legendary Skills. He navigated to a tab he had never opened before: [Consumables / Single-Use Items]. The items here weren't permanent skills. They were like temporary buffs or potions in a video game. The prices were much more reasonable.
[Stamina Pill (Small)] - Restores 20% stamina instantly. (Cost: 12 Hours) [Injury Spray] - Heals minor bruises immediately. (Cost: 1 Day) [Adrenaline Shot] - Temporarily boosts Sprint Speed. (Cost: 2 Days)
Rio's eyes locked on an item in the bottom corner.
[Item: Tactical Lens (Grade C)][Type: Consumable / Duration: 90 Minutes][Effect: Grants "Bird's Eye View" within a 30-meter radius. Displays real-time positions of allies and enemies via a Minimap overlay on the retina.][Cost: 12 Hours of Lifespan]
Half a day. The price was only twelve hours of life. It was significantly cheaper than buying Zidane's Vision permanently (30 Days).
"For tomorrow's match, I don't need to be Zidane forever," Rio whispered to the darkness. "I just need to be Zidane for 90 minutes."
Rio pressed the [PURCHASE] button. A pair of transparent, digital contact lenses materialized in his inventory.
[Item Purchased: Tactical Lens x1][Remaining Lifespan: 363 Days, 09 Hours, 58 Minutes]Note: The System rounds up the deduction.
Rio smiled faintly. He had a weapon. Cheap, temporary, but deadly.
Casteldebole Training Centre.Sunday Morning. 09:00 AM.Match: Reserve Team (Senior) vs Primavera (U-19).
The atmosphere on the pitch was different from yesterday. The small stands, usually empty, were now occupied by about 50 people—coaching staff, a few fan club leaders, and of course, Adrian Vance in his wheelchair, holding his tablet like a weapon.
On the sideline, the Primavera team was warming up. They looked young, fast, and aggressive. In the center of their circle stood Stefano Ricci. He wore the Number 10 for the junior team. He stared at Rio with eyes that promised violence.
"Hey, Tourist!" Stefano shouted in perfect English. "I heard you like to dance La Croqueta. Let's see you dance when both your legs are broken."
Rio didn't reply. He was tightening his shin guards. Coach Rossi entered the makeshift locker area on the sideline.
"Listen up," Rossi said, his voice devoid of warmth. "The Reserve Team will play a 4-2-3-1. Valdes, you are in the middle, behind the striker. You are the Playmaker."
Rossi stared sharply at Rio. "Show me why the Director wasted money on you. You hold the ball, you create chances. If you lose possession more than three times... you are on the first flight back to Indonesia."
It was a trap. Adrian was right. Rossi was ordering a physically weak player to "hold the ball" against a team famous for their High Pressing. It was suicide.
But Rio remained calm. He touched his eye as if rubbing away dust. [Item Activated: Tactical Lens]
ZING.
Rio's world changed. The green pitch in front of him was suddenly overlaid with a transparent digital grid. In the corner of his vision, a Minimap appeared, pulsating like a radar. Red dots (Enemies) and Blue dots (Allies) flickered in real-time. He could see everything. He could see behind his own head.
"Let's play," Rio whispered.
Kick-off.
The match started at a hellish tempo. The Primavera team swarmed forward like wolves. The ball was passed to Rio in the midfield. Immediately, Stefano Ricci slid in from behind, studs raised. "Die, trash!"
Rio didn't turn his head. He didn't need to. On his minimap, he saw a Red Dot approaching rapidly from his 6 o'clock blind spot. He didn't need The Matador. He didn't need to dodge. He just needed to move the ball.
Rio executed a One-Touch Pass to the right wing, exactly 0.5 seconds before Stefano made contact. THUD. Stefano slammed into Rio's back, but the ball was already gone. Rio tumbled to the grass, but he bounced back up instantly.
"Too late," Rio said coldly, looking at the frustrated Stefano.
Minute 10. Rio received the ball again. This time, two Primavera midfielders boxed him in. To the naked eye, Rio was trapped. There was no escape.
But through the Tactical Lens, Rio saw something else. He saw a dotted white line—a passing lane invisible to everyone else. The Primavera left-back had stepped up too high, leaving a gap behind him.
Rio didn't dribble. He didn't hesitate. He launched a No-Look Pass. He looked left, but flicked the ball right with the outside of his boot. The ball curled beautifully over the heads of the two defenders, landing perfectly in the stride of the Reserve Striker.
The Striker, shocked to receive such a perfect ball, took a touch and fired. GOAL.Reserve Team 1 - 0 Primavera.
On the sideline, Coach Rossi frowned. He had expected Rio to panic, to over-dribble, to get crushed. But Rio was playing like a 35-year-old veteran. Efficient. Cold. Boring, but lethal.
"He hasn't held the ball for more than two seconds," the Assistant Coach muttered to Rossi. "His spatial awareness... it's unnatural."
On the pitch, Stefano Ricci's face turned crimson. "Don't let him pass!" Stefano screamed at his teammates. "Break his legs before he touches it!"
Rio heard the scream. He checked his minimap. The Red Dots were swarming. They were abandoning their positions to hunt him. Rio's adrenaline spiked. His Bionic Heart hummed a low, steady rhythm.
They are angry, Rio thought. Good. Angry people make mistakes.
Rio glanced at the sideline. Adrian Vance was smiling, tapping his wristwatch. Time is money, Rio. Finish them.
Rio raised his hand, demanding the ball again. He had just spent 12 hours of his life for these eyes. He was going to make sure Stefano paid for it with a lifetime of humiliation.