The atmosphere at the National Training Center felt electric, charged with the desperate ambition of thirty young men fighting for twenty-three spots.
It was the final trial match before the official U-20 selection. The opponent was the Senior National Team's B-Squad—older, physically dominating professionals who viewed the youth team not as rivals, but as warm-up fodder to be chewed up and spat out.
Rio stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the U-20 Captain, Bambang. The tension between them was a physical wall.
"No tricks today, Valdes," Bambang whispered, his eyes hard and cold, refusing to look at Rio. "You pass to me. I score. We win. No more collapsing and no more stealing my glory. If you embarrass me in front of the Seniors, I will break your legs myself."
Rio nodded, adjusting his shin guards. He knew his performance was being watched by the only man who truly mattered: Guntur Wijaya, the Head Scout, who was sitting directly on the sideline, a tablet in his hand and a medical team on standby, ready to condemn Rio at the first sign of arrhythmia.
Rio took a deep breath. The familiar dull ache in his chest—the shadow of his condition—was muted by the sharp spike of adrenaline.
[CURRENT LIFESPAN: 44 Days, 06 Hours][STAMINA: 100/100 (RECOVERED)]
He had 44 days left. This match was his insurance policy.
He activated the [Vulture's Eye] one final time before kickoff.
The world shifted. The colors desaturated, replaced by a grayscale filter where only weaknesses glowed in angry red.
Rio didn't see the Senior B-Squad defenders as formidable giants. He saw their flaws. He saw the tape on the left knee of their captain. He saw the heavy breathing of their midfielder. He saw the subtle arrogance in the eyes of their aging striker—a professional who thought this match was beneath him.
Rio smirked. It was the smile of a scavenger who had just spotted a dying animal.
"No tricks, Captain," Rio replied calmly. "Just perfect football."
THE SCAVENGER'S PATIENCE
KICK OFF.
The game started as a predictable physical mismatch. The Senior B-Squad immediately dominated the midfield, using their superior strength and experience to bully the U-20 players off the ball. Every tackle was heavy; every aerial duel was a collision of men against boys.
Minute 10.
Rio played his role as the Advanced Playmaker perfectly. He never sprinted. He never engaged physically. He received the ball, used his [Eagle Eye] for a fractional scan, and released the ball with a single, precise touch.
Tap. Scan. Pass.
He was a human pass cannon, firing the ball into space where the young, fitter players could run onto it, avoiding the bruising tackles of the Seniors.
But the Senior defense was too experienced. They shut down the predictable attacks easily, cutting off the passing lanes with disciplined positioning.
Guntur Wijaya scribbled notes furiously on his tablet, his eyes fixed on Rio.
He sees the flawless passing, Guntur thought, but he also sees the lack of forward runs. He's avoiding contact. He's hiding his weakness.
Minute 25.
The deadlock persisted. The Senior defense, having established dominance, grew bored and arrogant. Their center-back captain, Hadi, a player with 15 years of League 1 experience, started pushing high, eager to score and end the stalemate.
Rio saw the opportunity with [Vulture's Eye]. He saw the faint, red aura of impatience and mental fatigue pulsing around Hadi.
He's bored. He's reckless.
Rio intercepted a predictable cross-field pass. He controlled it with the outside of his boot, leaving the ball slightly exposed. It was bait.
Hadi, confident in his A-Rank strength, immediately charged Rio, expecting to deliver a devastating body check and steal the ball from the skinny youth.
Rio didn't run away. He waited. He stood his ground like a statue. He waited until Hadi was fully committed—a massive object moving at high speed.
Now.
Rio activated [Lightning Stride].
ZAP!
He executed a micro-burst—a mere 0.5 seconds of speed—enough to accelerate three meters to his right.
Hadi's body check slammed into empty air. The experienced defender was so stunned by the unnatural, instantaneous acceleration that his momentum betrayed him. He tripped over his own massive feet, collapsing onto the turf with a humiliating thud that echoed across the quiet stadium.
Rio was free. He had beaten the strongest player on the pitch with 0.5 seconds of cheat speed and pure calculation.
Bambang screamed for the ball on the left.
Rio didn't pass to him. He saw the goal—the Senior Goalkeeper was positioned poorly, expecting a cross.
Rio unleashed a powerful low shot that curved around the stunned defense.
SWISH.
GOAL! [1-0].
Rio stood still, breathing hard. He hadn't used the potion, but the 0.5-second burst cost him a massive strain. His heart fluttered dangerously.
Guntur Wijaya dropped his tablet. He stared at the field, his expression changing from skepticism to cold, hard realization.
He's not fast, Guntur realized. He's instantaneous.
THE CONFRONTATION
Halftime.
Rio walked into the locker room, his chest heaving, his heart pounding a dangerous rhythm. He had proven his tactical worth, but he was physically spent. The adrenaline was fading, leaving the ache behind.
Guntur Wijaya met him at the door. He blocked the entrance, isolating Rio from the team.
The scout didn't look angry. He looked like a scientist who had just confirmed a terrifying hypothesis.
"That last goal," Guntur said, his voice quiet, his eyes boring into Rio. "You ran away from the defender, then you beat him, but you didn't run again. You stopped. You are pacing yourself."
Guntur leaned in close, the smell of expensive cologne masking the scent of sweat.
"You know your limit, Valdes. You know exactly when the engine will blow. And you are playing the game based on minutes, not scores."
Rio met his gaze, refusing to flinch. "I play smart, Pak Guntur."
"Smart, or sick?" Guntur challenged. "I saw your medical report. Clean. Perfect. But I saw the way you fell in Yokohama. I saw you gasping after the Yo-Yo test. I see you now, holding your chest when you think no one is looking."
Guntur lowered his voice to a whisper that felt like a knife.
"I know your heart is broken, Valdes. The Masquerade Mask—or whatever trick you used—lied to the machine, but your body doesn't lie to my eyes. I've watched players die on the pitch. You have the same look."
Rio's blood ran cold. He had paid 30 days of his life for that secret, and Guntur had seen through it with intuition alone.
"If you know," Rio whispered, "why didn't you cut me after the Yo-Yo test?"
"Because the team needs you," Guntur admitted, the pragmatism overriding his morality. "You are the key to the World Cup. You are the only player who sees the field the way you do. Bambang is a hammer; you are a scalpel. But a secret scalpel is a liability."
Guntur reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, sterile-wrapped device. It was a professional sports heart rate monitor strap.
"Wear this for the second half. It connects directly to my tablet."
Guntur held it out.
"If your heart rate goes over 185 BPM, I pull you immediately. No arguments. No appeals. You are cut from the National Team for life. This is the condition of your continued employment."
Rio looked at the monitor. It wasn't just a device; it was a leash. An honest, unforgiving clock that couldn't be bribed with Lifespan.
The only thing worse than the System timer is a real timer.
Rio took the strap. It felt cold, like a snake constricting his future.
"Fine."
THE CAGE
Second Half.
Rio was wearing the monitor under his jersey. It felt cold against his skin.
The Senior B-Squad knew they had been humiliated by a kid. They came out with a vengeance, focusing all their aggression on the number 7.
Rio was caged. Every touch earned him a hard foul. A shove in the back. A kick to the ankle. They were trying to break him physically.
Minute 60.
The score was still 1-0. Rio was struggling to maintain his heart rate below 170 BPM. The constant physical battering was spiking his stress levels.
Bambang, seeing Rio struggle and under threat of being subbed out, started ignoring him entirely, playing selfishly to prove his own worth.
Rio saw the opportunity. He activated [Vulture's Eye].
He saw the impatience in Bambang's eyes. He saw the desperation in the Senior B-Squad defender, Dani, who marked him. Dani was frustrated, one yellow card away from ejection.
Rio did the unpredictable: he stopped running. He stood still in the center circle, completely unmarked, holding the ball.
Dani saw the chance to punish the arrogant number 7. He sprinted toward Rio, preparing a brutal slide tackle to wipe him out.
Rio waited until the last possible second. He moved the ball 30 centimeters to the side and let the sliding Dani take him out.
CRASH!
Dani's studs slammed into Rio's shin guards. Rio screamed as the impact sent him flying. He went down hard, rolling in agony.
The referee immediately blew the whistle and pulled out a Red Card.
Rio lay on the ground, clutching his knee, but smiling inwardly through the pain.
[CURRENT HEART RATE: 155 BPM]
He had successfully forced a major foul on a Senior player, slowing the game, cooling his heart rate while on the ground, and earning a free kick in a dangerous area.
He was the vulture, feeding on the opponent's anger to save his own life.
THE DEVIL'S PACT
Minute 85.
Indonesia had scored a second goal from the free kick Rio earned. [2-0].
Rio's heart rate was stable at 160 BPM, thanks to the tactical slowdown and the man advantage. He had survived the 90 minutes.
As the final whistle blew, Guntur Wijaya walked onto the field. He didn't celebrate. He walked straight to Rio and pulled the heart rate monitor from his chest.
"You passed, Valdes," Guntur said, checking the data log on his tablet. "Your heart stayed below the threshold. But I know you cheated the tempo."
"I played smart," Rio corrected, standing up slowly, his body aching.
"You are a liability," Guntur stated. "But you are my liability now. You are the only one who can carry this team to the World Cup."
Guntur looked at Rio with predatory hunger.
"You are officially selected for the U-20 National Team. Your job is to win. My job is to keep you alive long enough to do it. We are in this together, Valdes. Your secret is mine."
Guntur turned and walked away, his black suit disappearing into the tunnel.
Rio looked at Specter.
"We just partnered with the Devil," Rio whispered.
"The best deals always are," Specter grinned, lighting a ghostly cigar. "Now, let's see how much life that monster just cost us."