Fweeeeet!
The referee's whistle cut through the air, signaling the end of the 90 minutes.
[Match Ended]
[Final Score: Team A (3) - Team B (3)]
Adrian collapsed onto his back, his massive chest heaving like a bellows. He was completely drained. Moving his 188cm frame with his low stamina was like driving a tank on empty fumes.
The pitch was silent. A 3-3 draw.
For Team A, the "Golden Generation," a draw against the rejects was a humiliation worse than a loss. Jerome sat on the grass, staring at his boots, shaking his head. He looked broken.
For Team B, it felt like they had just won the Champions League.
"We did it!" Enzo screamed, dropping to his knees and raising his arms. "We actually held them!"
Rayan, the speedster winger, walked over to Adrian and nudged him with his neon-pink boot.
"Hey, Big Man," Rayan grinned, popping a bubble of gum. "Not bad. You're like a brick wall that shoots missiles. I think I like playing with you."
Adrian stared up at the sky. He was too tired to speak, but his mind was racing. Because right in front of his eyes, glowing brighter than the sun, was the System Interface.
[Ding!]
[Mission Complete: The First Slap]
[Objective: Score a Hat-trick (3/3)]
[Rating: S (You dominated the mental game)]
The rewards began to populate the screen, accompanied by the satisfying sound of coins jingling.
[Rewards Distributed:]
[1. 10 Free Attribute Points]
[2. New Skill: Ball Magnet (Passive)]
[3. Bonus Reward: 1x Rare Gacha Token]
Adrian's heart skipped a beat. A Gacha Token.
He sat up, ignoring the pain in his legs. The dopamine rush washed away the fatigue instantly. This was the best part of having a System. The gambling.
"System," Adrian whispered, "Show me the skill first."
[Skill: Ball Magnet (Rank: B)]
[Description: Luck favors the bold. Loose balls within a 5-meter radius have a 30% higher chance of deflecting towards the Host. Rebounds, blocked shots, and bad touches will naturally gravitate to your feet.]
[Note: You don't chase the ball. The ball chases you.]
Adrian clenched his fist. This was perfect. He was slow. He couldn't chase rebounds. Now, the universe would help him.
"And the points," Adrian thought.
He looked at his stats.
Speed: 42
Stamina: 55
He needed to run. Even just a little bit. Being a turret was fun, but if he wanted to survive in the professional league, he couldn't be completely immobile.
"System, add 5 points to Speed and 5 points to Stamina."
[Ding!]
[Processing...]
[Speed: 42 -> 47]
[Stamina: 55 -> 60]
He felt a subtle lightness in his legs. It wasn't a massive change—he was still slow—but he felt like the "heavy chains" around his ankles had loosened slightly. 47 Speed was still trash, but it was better trash.
"Now," Adrian licked his lips. "The Gacha."
[Would you like to use the Rare Gacha Token?]
[Yes / No]
"Yes."
[Ding!]
[Summoning the Great Wheel...]
A massive, holographic roulette wheel appeared in front of him. It was flashy, with neon lights spinning around the edges. The segments were colored by rarity:
White (Common - 50%)
Green (Uncommon - 30%)
Blue (Rare - 15%)
Purple (Epic - 4.9%)
Gold (Legendary - 0.1%)
"Come on," Adrian muttered. "Give me something good. Give me something to fix my dribbling."
The wheel spun violently. It was a blur of colors.
Whirrrrrrrrrr...
It began to slow down.
It was about to stop on [Blue: Skill - Power Header].
"No, I don't need headers," Adrian thought.
The wheel ticked one more time.
It stopped on a sliver of Purple.
[Ding!]
[JACKPOT!]
[Congratulations! You have obtained an Epic Passive Skill!]
Adrian's eyes widened. Purple! Epic!
[Skill: Bulldozer (Rank: A)]
[Type: Passive / Dribbling]
[Description: Who needs technique when you have mass? When the Host is in possession of the ball, any opponent who attempts a physical tackle or shoulder barge takes recoil damage equal to 50% of the Host's Strength. If the opponent's Strength is lower than the Host's, the Host cannot be dispossessed by physical means.]
[Effect: You do not dribble around them. You dribble through them.]
Adrian burst out laughing. It was a maniacal, loud laugh that made Enzo jump.
"You okay, man?" Enzo asked, looking concerned.
"I'm fantastic," Adrian grinned, standing up.
He didn't need to learn step-overs. He didn't need to learn elasticos. With Heavy Tank (balance) and Bulldozer (tackle reflection), he was literally a moving vehicle. If they tried to tackle him, they would just hurt themselves.
"Gather around!"
Coach Lucien's voice boomed across the pitch.
The players from both teams shuffled to the center circle. The difference in body language was stark. Team A looked like they were attending a funeral. Team B looked like they had just robbed a bank.
Lucien stood in the middle, his face unreadable. He held his clipboard against his chest.
He looked at Jerome.
"Jerome," Lucien said softly. "You let a man who can barely run score three goals against you. Why?"
Jerome swallowed hard. "He... he's too strong, Boss. We couldn't move him."
"Exactly," Lucien snapped. "You tried to play your game against him. You tried to be physical with a monster. You were arrogant. You thought you could bully the 'rejects'."
Lucien turned to the rest of Team A.
"You are the 'Golden Generation'? You are soft. You are weak. In Ligue 1, defenders will eat you alive if you play like this."
Then, Lucien turned to Team B. A small smile crept onto his face.
"And you lot," he nodded at Enzo, Rayan, and Hugo. "You understood the assignment. You identified your weapon, and you used it. That is football. Football is not about who can do the most tricks. It is about who scores the most goals."
He walked over to Adrian.
Adrian towered over the coach, but he stood respectfully straight.
Lucien looked Adrian up and down. He poked Adrian's chest with his pen.
"You," Lucien said. "You are ugly to watch. You turn like a truck. You have the first touch of a rapist. Your running form makes me want to vomit."
The players held their breath. Was he cutting him?
Lucien's grin widened.
"But you put the ball in the net."
Lucien turned to the Assistant Coach. "Get him a contract. Three years. First Team squad rotation."
[Ding!]
[Career Update: Promoted to First Team!]
[Fame +100]
The Team B players erupted. Enzo jumped on Adrian's back again. Rayan clapped lazily. Even some of the Team A players looked at Adrian with a newfound respect.
"Training starts at 09:00 tomorrow with the senior squad," Lucien said to Adrian. "Don't be late. And Adrian?"
"Yes, Boss?"
"If you try to dribble like Messi, I will bench you. If you try to run down the wing, I will bench you. You stay in the box. You kill the goalkeeper. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Boss," Adrian nodded. "I stay. I shoot. They die."
Lucien laughed. "Good. Dismissed!"
The Manager's Office - 1 Hour Later
Lucien sat behind his desk, pouring a glass of whiskey. The Head of Youth Development, Jean, sat opposite him, looking stunned.
"You're really promoting him?" Jean asked. "He has no fundamentals, Lucien! His passing stats must be in the single digits!"
"I don't care," Lucien took a sip. "Did you see his shot, Jean? The data analysts just sent me the numbers from the Hawk-Eye system."
Lucien slid a paper across the desk.
Jean picked it up. His eyes bulged.
"Shot Power: 145 km/h? Spin Rate: Abnormal? Impact Force: Equivalent to a car crash?"
"He is a glitch," Lucien murmured, looking out the window at the training pitch where the sun was setting. "He breaks the logic of the game. The other teams in the league... they are preparing for fast strikers. They are preparing for technical wingers."
Lucien smiled, a predatory glint in his eye.
"They are not prepared for a Siege Tower."
"But can he survive in Ligue 1?" Jean asked. "The defenders are smarter. They are faster."
"Maybe," Lucien shrugged. "But they have to move him first. And I watched Jerome—our strongest boy—bounce off him like a rubber ball."
Lucien put the glass down.
"We have a weapon, Jean. A very blunt, very heavy weapon. And I'm going to use it to smash the league wide open."
Adrian's Apartment
Adrian sat on his bed, looking at the new contract papers. The salary was 5,000 Euros a week. For an 18-year-old who was broke yesterday, it was a fortune.
He looked at his phone. He texted his dad.
Adrian: "I made it, Papa. First Team."
Papa: "I knew it! I told the guys at the dock! My son is a cannon!"
Adrian smiled. He lay back on the pillow. The blue screen hovered above him.
[Name: Adrian Dubois]
[Class: The Stationary Striker]
[Skills: Stationary Artillery (S), Heavy Tank (C), Ball Magnet (B), Bulldozer (A)]
He looked at the new skill, Bulldozer.
He imagined the Ligue 1 defenders. Big, scary men who had played in the World Cup. Men who thought they were strong.
"I hope they try to tackle me," Adrian whispered into the darkness.
He closed his eyes.