Bologna. Casteldebole Training Centre.Monday Morning. 08:00 AM.
The gates of the training center were under siege. Usually, there were maybe two or three retired journalists smoking cigarettes. Today, there were fifty. Cameras flashed like lightning storms as Rio's taxi approached.
"Is it true?" a reporter screamed, slamming his palm on the window. "Did you fake your medicals?" "Are you dying, Valdes?"
Rio ducked his head, covering his face with his hoodie. The taxi driver looked back, terrified. "Kid, did you kill someone?" "Just drive," Rio muttered, gripping his bag tight.
The Medical Bay.
Inside the facility, the atmosphere was suffocating. The air smelled of sterilization fluid and fear. Coach Rossi wasn't yelling. He was sitting in a plastic chair, looking pale, rubbing his temples. Standing next to him was a man in a sharp grey suit holding a briefcase. Dr. Marco Moretti, the Chief Medical Officer of the FIGC (Italian Football Federation).
And beside him, Dr. Luca, Bologna's club doctor, who looked like he was about to have a panic attack. He was the one who had signed off on Rio's initial (and incomplete) paperwork under pressure from the Director.
"Valdes," Dr. Moretti said, checking his Rolex. "You are late."
"Traffic," Rio said, dropping his bag. "What is this?"
"Random doping control," Moretti lied smoothly. "Combined with a mandatory cardiac wellness check. Standard procedure for young players from... unregulated academies who suddenly perform miracles against Juventus."
It wasn't standard. It was a witch hunt. The Gazzetta article had spooked the league. They wanted to know if Bologna was fielding a liability. If Rio died on the pitch, the FIGC would be blamed.
"Strip to your waist," Moretti ordered, pointing to a small changing screen in the corner. "Put on the gown. We need an ECG (Electrocardiogram) and a stress test. Now."
Rio froze. His heart. The Bionic Heart. It didn't pump blood like a muscle. It hummed. It circulated energy through synthetic valves. If they hooked him up to an ECG, the machine wouldn't show a "Lub-Dub, Lub-Dub" pattern. It would show a flatline. Or worse, digital static noise. They would declare him dead or a machine.
Rio looked at the glass wall. Adrian Vance was outside, watching. Adrian's face was grim. He tapped his chest and shook his head slightly. Don't do it. Run. But Rio had no choice. Refusing the test meant an automatic 2-year ban.
"Yes, Doctor," Rio said, stepping behind the changing screen.
Behind the Screen.
Rio was hidden from view, but Moretti was standing just a few feet away. "Hurry up, Valdes," Moretti called out. "Don't try anything funny. I can hear you."
Rio's hands shook as he unbuttoned his shirt. He had ten seconds. Maybe fifteen. He opened the System Interface with a blink.
"Shop! I need a heart!" Rio screamed in his mind.
He scrolled past the Skills. Cristiano's Jump... Messi's Dribble... Useless. He went to the [Consumables] tab. He needed something to fake a biological signal.
[Item: Adrenaline Shot] - No.[Item: Stamina Pill] - No.
He found a tab labeled [Bio-Masking].
[Item: The Mockingbird (Grade A)][Type: Consumable / Duration: 1 Hour][Effect: Generates a fake bio-rhythm field around the user. Simulates a perfect, healthy human heartbeat and blood pressure for medical devices.][Cost: 5 Days]
Five days. Five days to buy a lie. "Cheap," Rio gasped silently. "I'd pay a month."
[PURCHASE CONFIRMED][Item Activated: The Mockingbird][Synchronization: 100%]
A warm sensation spread through his chest, overlaying the cold hum of his bionic engine. He put a hand over his heart. Usually, he felt a vibration. Now, he felt a kick. Thump. Thump. Thump. It felt real. It wasn't real—it was a holographic projection of a pulse—but it felt biological.
Moretti ripped the curtain open. "Time's up. On the table."
The Examination.
Rio lay on the cold leather table. Dr. Moretti applied the cold gel to Rio's chest. Rio flinched. "Relax," Moretti muttered, his eyes suspicious. "If you have nothing to hide, this won't hurt."
Moretti attached the electrodes. One on the chest. Two on the ribs. One on the ankle. He turned on the machine.
BEEP...BEEP...BEEP...
Rio held his breath. The monitor showed a green line. It went up. It went down. P-Wave. QRS Complex. T-Wave. A textbook human heartbeat.
Dr. Moretti stared at the screen. He frowned. He tapped the machine, expecting a glitch. "60 beats per minute," Moretti read. "Resting rate of an elite athlete."
He looked at Dr. Luca. "I thought you said his preliminary scans from Indonesia were... inconclusive?" Dr. Luca wiped sweat from his forehead, looking relieved. "Uh, yes. The machine in Jakarta must have been faulty. Or the files were corrupted."
Moretti wasn't satisfied. He wanted to find a flaw. "Stress test," Moretti barked. "Get him on the treadmill."
The Treadmill.
"Run," Moretti commanded. "I want to see your heart under load. Target heart rate: 180."
Rio started running. Speed: 10 km/h. Speed: 14 km/h. Speed: 18 km/h.
Rio ran. His legs felt good (thanks to the recent training). But the fear was internal. Would the [Mockingbird] item adjust to the stress? Or would it keep showing a resting heart rate while he was sprinting? If he was sprinting at 20km/h and his heart was beating at 60 bpm, that was biologically impossible.
Rio watched the monitor. Heart Rate: 120... 140... 160... The Item was smart. It mimicked the physiological response perfectly, increasing the fake pulse to match his exertion.
"Stop," Moretti pressed the button. The treadmill slowed down. Rio panted, leaning on the rails, sweat dripping onto the belt.
Moretti ripped the printout from the machine. He studied it like a detective looking for a fingerprint. He sighed, clearly disappointed that he couldn't ban anyone today. "Clean," Moretti announced. "Structure is normal. Rhythm is normal. No arrhythmia. No hypertrophy."
Moretti packed his briefcase. He looked at Rio with cold eyes. "You are lucky, kid. The rumors said you were a ticking time bomb. Turns out you are just... irritatingly healthy." Moretti walked out. "Tell the press to shut up."
The Parking Lot.
Rio walked out of the medical bay. His knees finally gave out. He sat on the concrete curb, burying his face in his hands. The [Mockingbird] effect was fading. The Thump-Thump was replaced by the familiar Hum-Hum of the Bionic Heart.
[Current Lifespan: 343 Days]
"You passed." Adrian Vance rolled up beside him. "I don't know how," Adrian whispered, looking at Rio's chest. "I saw the initial corrupted files, Rio. Before my father signed you. I know you didn't have a clean scan."
Rio looked up. This was dangerous territory. "I got better," Rio lied.
Adrian laughed. A dry, humorless sound. "Hearts don't just 'get better', Rio. They aren't broken ankles." Adrian leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't care what you are. Cyborg, alien, result of a government experiment. I don't care." Adrian pointed to the stadium in the distance. "I am a pragmatist. As long as you perform on Sunday, I will keep your secrets. But if you stop scoring... you become a liability. And I delete liabilities."
It wasn't a threat. It was a business contract. Rio nodded. "Deal."
Adrian checked his phone, shifting modes instantly. "Good. Because the schedule just dropped." Adrian showed the screen. "We beat Juventus. The league is taking us seriously now. The next match isn't about survival."
Next Match: Bologna vs Inter Milan.The League Leaders.Star Player: Lautaro Martinez.
"We face the champions," Adrian said. "And this time, they will mark you. No more ghosts. No more judo turns. They will put two men on you." "What then?" Rio asked.
Adrian smiled. "Now, we play football. Real football. Time to learn how to Shoot properly. Not just with power, but with finesse."
Rio stood up. "Finesse costs money," Rio muttered.
"Everything costs money," Adrian replied, spinning his wheelchair around. "Welcome to the big leagues."