Good

by Srtyi

Starting parts of some interesting novels.

1. The Greatest of All Time (Part 1)

The Strength of a Professional Team - THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME - Chapter 37

1 Rewind!

"KOKOKORIKO"

Zachary Bemba was woken from a deep slumber by the crowing of a rooster. His eyes abruptly rolled open, glazed over with the remnants of a dream or rather a nightmare.

Zachary was first aware of the coolness of the air and its fresh fragrance. It was nothing similar to the foul polluted air in the suburbs of Kinshasha City he had grown accustomed to.

He was lying on an abnormally small mattress that seemed to have been crafted by inserting spiky grass into rigid sacks. It was very uncomfortable and hurt his back when he stirred.

Zachary blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the room before propping himself up and orienting himself to the surroundings.

He was in a room with gray clay-walls and a grass roof over his head. Small khaki curtains hid the shabby small window across the patchy wall, just leaving a shy peek of the banana plantation beyond. One wooden stool and a roughly made bench stood at the foot of his small bed.

[WTF!? Isn't this my small hut back in my ancestral village?]

[Why am I back here?]

He seemed to be hallucinating about his childhood residence back in Bukavu. He had stayed with his grandma until he was sixteen before he gained some small achievements in his soccer career and then went on to waste his life.

[I am not dreaming!] He exclaimed inwardly after pinching the dark brown skin on his forearm.

The last thing that he could recall was drowning and struggling for a single breath of air in the deep waters of the Congo River. The experience was deeply traumatizing for him.

Zachary had failed to pay back a debt he owed to a local drug lord in Kinshasha and was left to drown in the river by the thug's sycophants. He should have already died and on his way to hell, but here he was, alive and well.

[Could I have gone back in time? Could I have gotten a second chance?]

"Hahaha..." Zachary's laughter was a high cold cackle, piercing the silent atmosphere.

"I've got to stop following those soaps and web novels," Zachary mumbled while trying to suppress his laughter.

But suddenly, from the small open window came a form. Levitating a foot off the dirt-laden coarse floor, an ash-grey translucent silhouette shimmered with a hazy glow. Slowly, it came into focus as an object looked at through a telescope, but this phantom was close, very close, just a few meters away.

Now Zachary could see the form of a man, with a silvery ragged line across his neck standing in his room. His skin was as the color of charcoal and matched his bottomless soulless eyes. He wore a crown of leaves and grass, plus a tattered regal gown on his person.

Zachary's first impression of him was that he was just a hallucination and thus shook his head, trying to disperse his image from his mind. He was calm as this was not the first time he was getting delusions. His hallucinations had been getting progressively less amusing over the years due to his abuse of drugs.

Despite his efforts, the phantom was still there, before him, laughing and performing a sort of wild – prehistoric dance around his small room.

Zachary wanted to run fast for safety, out of the small wooden door, but instead remained where he was. Let's face it; there was only one thing he could do in such a situation: Pray the phantom wouldn't kill him.

But suddenly, the phantom stopped its manic laughter and started studying Zachary with the unwavering attention of a predator.

The phantom's soulless eyes creeped him out to the point of nearly peeing in his pants. But he clamped down on his fears and prayed that the almighty God (if there was one) could help him out of the situation.

"Young man!" Zachary heard the phantom's deep voice resounding like a thunderclap directly within his mind. It spoke to him without moving its chapped lips.

"I have felt your sadness and regret."

"I can sense your deep desire to do something for this forsaken land of ours. Your ancestors have sacrificed a lot to give you another chance. Remember; don't waste it! I will be watching you." The voice of the phantom was as chilling as ice at absolute zero, devoid of any emotion.

Before Zachary could register the meaning behind the words, the phantom began growing steadily less solid like it was being rubbed out by some invisible eraser. One minute the phantom was there, and the next, it was gone—vanished.

[What is happening!?] Zachary was shocked stiff by the development.

[I need to stop smoking Cannabis sativa.] He resolved.

"Hallucinating about my death, going back in time to my childhood, and meeting a ghost. If not marijuana, what could it be?" He mumbled while trying to calm his still bubbly emotions.

But at that instant, he heard a voice that should have been buried deep in his past.

"Zachary, wake up and go fetch some water," the high-pitched voice belonged to his grandmother. It was like he remembered; comforting as it wrapped around Zachary and whisked him off to a world where the sound was the power that could change everything wrong in the world.

Zachary's eyes moistened as he jumped out of his bed and limped towards the door of the small hut. He felt some pain in his left leg but ignored it as he was eager to see the old lady who had looked after him from childhood. His grandma was the rockstar of his world, his anchor, his safe place. But he had lost her, prematurely.

Just opening the door made Zachary's breathing rapid and shallow. He could feel his pulse pounding in his temples as he stepped out of the grass-thatched house.

"I am really back," he mumbled whilst looking at the banana plantations and pastures around him. Their homestead was on a hill allowing Zachary to see down the slope that was covered by the virulent greens. Cows mooed quietly in one corner of a paddock nearby and the squeals and snorts of fat pigs came from a pen some distance away from the house. Hens pecked at the soil with clockwork rhythm while goats grazed eagerly in the meadows. Zachary's grandma's farm was massive spreading across a good four acres.

"This is a utopia," Zachary grinned while focusing his attention on his grandma.

A tall, scrawny woman with greying hair was washing clothes a few meters away from his doorstep. She was humming a hymn and took no notice of Zachary when he was observing her. She was his grandmother, alive and well.

For a moment, the emotions Zachary had buried deep inside his mind came flooding forward, threatening to drown him in an endless abyss of regret and confusion. But as he continued looking at his grandmother's form that was as real as anything tangible around him, his mood lifted.

[Let this be real.] He inwardly prayed as he resisted the urge to rash forward and lift the woman into a hug.

If this was just a dream, Zachary didn't wish to wake.

He was highly suspicious that he had gone back in time to when he was just fifteen years old.

There were many things that Zachary regretted, many things that he could change, and a lot better decisions he could have taken. If there was a slim chance that he had traveled back in time, he would use all his wasted opportunities to soar into the skies. And maybe, he would become the G.O.A.T.

That had been his wish.

Zachary turned back and headed into the house. He needed a few minutes away from his grandmother to clear his head.

But Zachary then noticed the mind-numbing pain in his left ankle.

And then he remembered.

He had been involved in a bike accident around the time he was fifteen. The accident had been so bad that it basically tore most of the ligaments in his left foot.

That had been the beginning of the end of his soccer career. He had gone on to fail the trials of his school team due to the injury and then started wallowing in endless distress.

Zachary took to drugs to suppress his sorrow and was later expelled from his high school.

What followed was a period of being out on the streets in Kinshasha until he was picked up by a retired footballer on the DRC National Team. With his help, he managed to get back on his feet and join TP Mazembe – a local football team in Lubumbashi thereby achieving some bit of success in his football career.

But his success was shortlived as he soon relapsed back to taking drugs and was banned from the National League. One bad decision led to another until even God could no longer save him from himself.

However, the starting point of all his distress was the accident he suffered when he was fifteen.

[Why would I return to a point when I was already injured?] He was distressed. He felt his mood sink as he limped back to his room to examine his left ankle.

But at that moment, a Ding sounded in his head, and a translucent blue book flipped open before him.

On its first page, a few words were being inscribed in beautiful calligraphy.

"DING"

'G.O.A.T SYSTEM INITIALIZING…'

Thank you for reading. Pls. Enjoy, Vote and Add to Library.

There will be a chapter per day.

2 The G.O.A.T System

Zachary blinked as his eyes adjusted. He gazed at the translucent blue book, wide-eyed, mouth agape, and face frozen in wonderment.

Zachary had read a lot of system-tagged web novels before he returned to his past and could instantly comprehend what was happening.

He was sure that he might be acquiring a 'leveling-up system' like all those protagonists in the novels. That was the dream cheat for any passionate fan of web novels.

The system could help him level-up his soccer skills and make him a star player within a few years if it was anything like in those novels.

Since he was injured, this was the first time Zachary felt optimistic towards pursuing his dream of becoming an internationally recognized soccer player.

With a system, he could become one of the best players in Africa or even in the whole world.

He could then easily acquire mansions, posh cars, supermodels, and big money without ever resorting to robbery and selling drugs like in his past life.

Above all, he could secure a better future for his grandmother that was still suffering in poverty in a remote village in Bukavu.

The sky was the only limit.

[Am I really awake?] Zachary wondered before once again pinching his skin. This time, he chose one of the more sensitive areas on his body to dispel all the doubts in his mind.

"Damn, that hurt," he yelped.

The pain he felt was as real as it could be.

If he was asleep, then this dreamworld or fantasy had become his new reality. And that wasn't a bad thing.

He was glad to accept it.

Zachary calmed his mind and once again refocussed on the contents of the virtual book before him.

SPACE-TIME TUNNELING SUCCESSFUL

G.O.A.T SYSTEM INITIALIZING

"DING"

NEW USER DETECTED...

MATCHING BRAINWAVES...

ANALYZING BODY DATA...

ORIENTING TO NEW USER...

ACTIVATION SUCCESSFUL

"DING"

Please select your desired profession to start your journey on the path to becoming a G.O.A.T

a) Musician

b) Actor

c) Soccer Player

d) Basketballer

e) Other Sports

'NB: The system will aid you on your journey to ascend to the G.O.A.T status in any of the above professions.'

'Please make your choice after careful consideration. The choice is irreversible.'

A smile slowly spread across Zachary's face after he read through the lustrous golden words on the page.

He wanted to run, to shout, to tell his grandma what was happening, but he knew he couldn't. He had no way of explaining his circumstances.

Zachary had gone back in time and acquired a freaking system that should've only existed in his fantasies. The system could elevate him to the G.O.A.T status in several professions.

He was deliriously happy, giddy even.

Zachary carefully extended his right forefinger and tapped on choice – C.

"DING"

USER HAS SELECTED SOCCER PROFESSION

'Confirm' 'Cancel'

(*NB: The choice is irreversible after confirmation.)

Zachary did not think twice and just confirmed his choice of the soccer profession. Soccer was his love, his obsession, and the only thing he had ever managed to achieve some positive results in his previous lifetime.

Zachary would never choose to become a singer or an actor. He would embarrass himself if he ever tried singing due to his deep hoarse voice.

On confirming the soccer option, the translucent book instantly dispersed into glittering blue particles before assembling back into a virtual screen with a spinning golden soccer ball at the center. The ball then disappeared into the background before new golden words started appearing on the virtual screen.

"DING"

SOCCER G.O.A.T UI SUCCESSFULLY INITIALIZED

STARTING BOOT PROCESS

IMPLANTING QUANTUM BIO-CODE IN DNA OF USER...

Zachary's head throbbed while his bones tingled with a ticklish feeling. The pain felt like someone had taken a knife to his skull.

He quickly lay down on his bed and rested his head against his pillow. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed the pain to go away. The rest of the world became detached and all he could concentrate on was the pain rooted deep in his head and bones.

But soon, he heard another ding sound before the pain receded like a tide.

He opened his eyes and noticed that the words on the screen had once again changed.

SOCCER G.O.A.T SYSTEM SUCCESSFULLY BOUND TO NEW USER

POPULATING USER INTERFACE...

UPDATING USER STATS...

UPDATING MISSIONS...

SOCCER G.O.A.T UI SUCCESSFULLY UPDATED

USER CAN ACCESS INFO BY FOLLOWING THE TAB MENUS

The message ended there. The virtual screen once again became blank. But not for long. Shortly, glowing golden tab-menus started populating the screen.

SOCCER G.O.A.T SYSTEM

SYSTEM LEVEL: 1 (0/100 juju points to level-up)

USER: Zachary Bemba

AGE: 15 years

TALENT ASSESSMENT: Grade-D

JUJU-POINTS: 0

(Evaluation: A pitiful boy far from becoming a professional soccer player)

USER MENU

*USER STATS

*G.O.A.T MISSIONS

*SYSTEM SHOP (locked)

*SYSTEM LOTTERY (locked)

*SNOOPING TOOL (locked)

NB: Pls level-up system to unlock more functions.

Zachary could instantly understand the contents of the system User-Interface after taking a single glance.

It was like a UI of a simple android mobile game that the user could use to navigate through the game menus.

But Zachary was perturbed by the system's assessment of his talent.

He had been playing soccer since he was eight years and felt like he was good at it. But the system was assessing his talent at only Grade-D.

The grading was different from Zachary's expectations. So, he tapped on the 'USER STATS' button to understand why.

Another list populated the virtual page as soon as his finger left the virtual button.

*USER STATS

-Physical Fitness: D

-Soccer Technique: C

-Game Intelligence: C

-Mental Ability and Mindset: D-

-X-Factors: F

-G.O.A.T Skills: NONE

"Really!" Zachary exclaimed. "How can my mental ability be only at 'D-'? My grading should be higher than this."

Although Zachary was a failure in his previous lifetime, he had always thought himself to have a strong mental fortitude that could endure any hardship. But the system's assessment of him was different from his expectations.

For a moment, he was distressed, but then remembered that he had a second chance at achieving his goals. A chance at ascending to become a 'great' in sports.

[With this G.O.A.T system what is there to fear?]

[I will work harder and become a Grade-S talent as soon as possible.] He resolved while tapping on the physical fitness tab.

USER STATS

-Physical Fitness (Av. Rating: D)

Balance and Coordination: E

Agility: E

Strength: C-

Stamina: C

Endurance Points: 990/1000 (C)

NB: For detailed numerical data, follow the attribute tabs.

Zachary did not bother to continue assessing his stats. More info would confuse his head. He was never good with numbers.

But he could still understand his skills rating.

His highest attributes were his strength, stamina, and endurance at the moment. They seemed to be above average if the top rating was grade-S.

Zachary was still not satisfied with his data.

[I hope this system has a way to enhance my attributes and heal my injury in a short time.]

[I have to be part of that trial that should be taking place in about a month.] He thought while glancing at his Asahi digital-watch beside his pillow.

He had moved fifteen years back to the past. The date today was June 12, the year 2010. He had started to recall some events that were about to happen in the local soccer scene.

A month later, a few scouts from France would be in attendance at the regional football trials in Lubumbashi City. They were officials of a humanitarian organization that was aiming at promoting soccer in war-torn areas like DR. Congo.

In his previous life, a few Congolese young players were lucky to be selected by the scouts. Shortly after, they joined illustrious high-performance soccer academies in France and ascended to the skies in a single leap.

The other young soccer players (including Zachary) that were not part of the trial wallowed in endless regret about the missed opportunity for years.

But Zachary was determined to participate and succeed this time.

He thus rubbed his palms in anticipation and selected the 'G.O.A.T Missions' tab on the home menu of the system.

If the system had a method to increase his powers and heal him, it had to be through a mission. This was a no-brainer for anyone who had ever read a system-tagged novel.

The tab was already blinking with a red light showing that there was already a mission awaiting Zachary to complete.

G.O.A.T MISSIONS

#NEW MISSION: Preparations to become a soccer G.O.A.T

*Task 1: Run 70 miles within a week.

*Task 2: Complete 100 seat-ups daily for a week.

*Task 3: Complete 50 press-ups daily for a week.

*Task 4: Complete four rounds of half a dozen Hatha-Yoga poses daily for a week.

*Rewards:

-B-grade vitality enhancing elixir (Heals all injuries and strengthens the body. Has a chance of increasing talent.)

-A random G.O.A.T Skill.

-5 juju-points

*Punishment in case the mission is still incomplete after the stipulated time.

-Loss of G.O.A.T system.

-The left leg of the user will be permanently crippled (No compromise).

*Remarks: A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. And that step must be taken now...

"Now!" Zachary exclaimed. He was just about to go out and relax since he had been through a lot in the past few hours. But the system swatted his plans.

He hurriedly put on his over-sized tracksuit, ate a quick breakfast, and rushed out of the house after saluting his grandmother.

He could only relax after finishing the daily tasks imposed on him by the system. He would never allow himself to lose his leg if he had an opportunity to do something about it.

Thanks for reading. Pls add to library and vote.

creators' thoughts

3 Solo Training

Zachary was jogging at a steady pace.

He was mindful of neither the ever-present potholes in the dirt-roads of eastern Bukavu nor the mud heaps brought about by the rain of the previous day.

He hummed the Chris Brown song (Don't Wake Me Up) that was supposed to be released two years later.

Zachary smiled softly. He was in a good mood.

Above him loomed the blue sky with just a few stratus clouds making their unhurried way toward Lake Kivu in the north. The sun was already a golden ball of yellow above, promising more heat as the day progressed. All in all, he could not have asked for better weather to complete the system mission.

It had been six days since Zachary returned to the past, and he was very close to completing the tasks in his first system mission.

He had been exercising like there was not a tomorrow in his vocabulary.

With the G.O.A.T system, he had the motivation to work hard and thus never once thought about giving up when the going got tough.

Every morning, he would start with a routine of one hundred seat-ups, then do fifty press-ups before jogging ten or more miles around the dirt roads of Bukavu. He would then complete his day's training in the evening by going through six rounds of Hatha-yoga routines. His daily yoga practice always included the serpent, bow, peacock, tortoise, eagle, and Matsyendra poses.

In his previous lifetime, he had come across an article explaining how yoga was essential to improving the flexibility and body coordination of any sportsman. Zachary was determined to stick to this practice as it would reduce the risk of him getting injured later in his career.

He feared getting injured again the most. Injuries would diminish the player's form and destroy careers if not meticulously handled.

An injury had been the start of Zachary's downfall in his previous lifetime. But he was determined not to let it affect him in his new one.

Throughout the past six days, his injured ankle had hurt like hell after continuing to support his strenuous exercise without much rest. It had swollen and taken on a reddish hue like that of a perfectly boiled shrimp. But Zachary had chosen to ignore the pain and continue the tedious tasks imposed on him by the system.

A few times when he felt he could not hold on, he just had to think about the great heights achieved by some of the top athletes from poor backgrounds in his previous lifetime. Soccer stars like Sadio Mane, Frank Ribery, and Cristiano Ronaldo had made it to the top by capitalizing on their talent. Through sheer hard work and their unrelenting attitude towards soccer, they had almost achieved the G.O.A.T status supported by the common consensus of the pro-sports community.

Zachary believed that the pain and fatigue he was feeling at that moment was his weakness leaving the body.

He could see the bigger picture.

The climb might be tough and challenging, but if he ever made it to the top of the soccer world, the view would be worth it. So, he decided to work harder than any athlete alive and see if he could also become one of the greats. He would try becoming the best or die trying. With a cheat system aiding in his rise, he would not settle for less.

Zachary was in the zone and felt like running was a form of whole-body meditation. He continued his steady motion at a steady pace pushing away the pain and fatigue from his mind while humming song after song to psyche himself up.

On the nearly empty Bukavu dirt-roads, he had no worries. Zachary didn't need to fret about high-interest loans like in his previous life, no problematic girlfriend, no therapist. It was just him cutting across the warm breeze caressing his skin.

Stick sweat soaked his oversized tracksuit while his old second-hand Nike snickers were all covered in mud. He panted as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He could only imagine how badly he stunk.

As he rounded a bend heading back towards his grandma's farm, a Ding sounded in his head.

The sound elevated his mood as it was the now-familiar system notification indicating that he had completed one of the mission tasks.

But Zachary resisted the urge to open the system User-Interface and continued jogging across the plains, up the hill, until he was back to his grandma's house.

Once he stopped running, the perspiration lay cool on his skin, cooled further by the noon breeze, and he began to shiver.

He hurriedly washed up before stretching to cool down his muscles. He was then just about to start his yoga routine when he was interrupted by the high-pitched voice of his grandma.

"Zachary," she yelled. "You're running on that foot again. Didn't Dr. Kazadi tell you to desist from straining it for three months? Child, I don't have any more money to take you to the main hospital." She was speaking in Swahili - one of the local languages in Bukavu.

"Grandma, I'm now fine," he lied, voice humble. "I will be okay by the time school starts once again. I want to be ready for the school team trials."

[Sorry, grandma. I can't tell you everything now. But I'll surprise you in the future.] Zachary vowed inwardly.

"Are you sure?" She asked. "I will come and take a look at that foot myself. I won't trust your words." She added.

"No, Grandma," Zachary hurriedly yelled back while bolting the wooden door to his room from the inside. "I am currently dressing. Maybe later."

"I can tell that you are lying," the voice of his grandma had risen a crescendo.

"That does it. Tomorrow, I will ask Dr. Kazadi to look at your ankle again. If he says that it's okay, then you can do whatever you want. But I don't want to see you out running before that." His grandmother warned, voice somber.

"Yes, grandma," Zachary replied humbly.

[I will have completed my mission by tomorrow. If the elixir reward can right away heal all my torn ligaments and dislocated bones, then there'll be no need to worry.] He thought.

He once again focused on his training and went through his Yoga routine. Today, he had woken up very early and worked extra hard to finish the mission before lunchtime. He was eager to receive the first rewards from the system. He would then be able to gauge if the G.O.A.T system was as badass as the ones in most of the web novels he had read.

In a few minutes, he completed the yoga routine, and the Ding sound once again resounded in his mind.

Without even taking a minute to relax, he summoned the system's user interface to check the changes in his stats.

SOCCER G.O.A.T SYSTEM

SYSTEM LEVEL: 1 (15/100 juju-points to level-up)

USER: Zachary Bemba

AGE: 15 years

TALENT ASSESSMENT: Grade-D

JUJU-POINTS: 15 (1 msg)

(Evaluation: A pitiful boy far from becoming a professional soccer player)

USER MENU

*USER STATS

*G.O.A.T MISSIONS (4 msg)

*SYSTEM SHOP (temporarily-unlocked)

*SYSTEM LOTTERY (temporarily-unlocked)

*SNOOPING TOOL (locked)

NB: Pls level-up system to unlock more functions.

Zachary instantly noticed the juju-points, G.O.AT-missions, system-shop, and system-lottery tabs blinking red on the user interface. With his expertise gained through reading web novels, he could tell that he had received new messages or status changes in those tabs.

So, he tapped on the tab towards the top of the virtual blue screen.

JUJU-POINTS: 15 (1 msg)

- You have completed mission – Preparations to Become a Soccer G.O.AT. You have earned 15 juju-points.

NB: Please complete more system tasks, win matches, and gain fame to gain more juju-points.

Zachary understood the message at first glance. He closed the tab in a way similar to that of navigating the android tabs of a smartphone and then fixed his attention on the G.O.A.T mission tabs.

[What rewards will I get from the system?] He wondered.

[Will the vitality enhancing elixir cure me?]

[What if this is a dream? Am I just about to wake?] A lot of doubts ran through his mind making his brain tingle with anxiety.

But he suppressed them and tapped on the G.O.A.T missions tab.

"DING"

#4 new messages

CONGRATULATIONS

- You have completed mission (Preparations to Become a Soccer G.O.A.T).

-Mission-Rewards

1) B-grade vitality enhancing elixir (Available in system-shop; temporarily unlocked. NB: The user must consume the elixir within 5 seconds after being removed from system shop.)

2) A random G.O.A.T skill (Available in system-lottery; temporarily unlocked)

3) 5 juju points

-Mission Summary

*Task 1: Run 70 miles within a week. (74/70 miles completed; rating A)

*Task 2: Complete 100 seat-ups daily for a week. (Av. 200/100 seat-ups completed daily; Rating S)

*Task 3: Complete 50 press-ups daily for a week. (Av. 64/50 press-ups completed daily; Rating A)

*Task 4: Complete four rounds of half a dozen Hatha-Yoga routine daily for a week. (Av. 6/4 rounds of Hatha-yoga poses completed; Rating A)

Overall Mission Rating: A

-Bonus rewards

You have earned 10 bonus juju-points

Thanks for reading. Please vote (when open), comment, and review. Above all, add to library. Enjoy. Another chapter coming tomorrow.

creators' thoughts

4 First System Rewards

Even in his previous lifetime, Zachary, as a general rule, hid his emotions. He figured they were intel he should not hand over, and so at all times, his face was blank. But today was different. Zachary had just received the first mission rewards from the system, and excitement poured out of him like sunshine through fine white linen; he glowed from the inside out.

It felt like every fiber of his being was vibrating with anticipation when he looked at the virtual screen before him. He first rubbed his palms together and sat down on his bed before tapping on the system-shop tab that was still blinking red.

*SYSTEM SHOP

-Gift Packs (temporarily-unlocked) (1 msg)

-Purchase Skills (locked)

-Purchase Elixirs (locked)

-Lottery Coupons (locked)

-Inventory (temporarily-unlocked) (1 msg)

The Gift-Pack tab was blinking red, and Zachary right away extended his right forefinger and tapped on it. For the first time, he noticed that the screen felt tangible against his touch but did not give much attention to it.

"DING"

#1 new messages

CONGRATULATIONS

You have received a System Gift: B-grade vitality enhancing elixir.

Please select the gift card in the inventory to retrieve the elixir.

NB: The user must consume the elixir within five seconds after removal from the system shop.

Remarks: Hold tight; you are in for a rough ride.

The message was brief, but it was what Zachary was expecting. He clicked on the inventory tab and then selected the only card with the image of an apple in it. And voila, the fruit, the size of a lollipop, popped out of the translucent blue screen.

Although Zachary had read several system-tagged web novels, he was still amazed by the spectacle before him. It was simply magic.

But he was not the kind to concern himself with the inner workings and processes of the system, and thus, he just picked up the small apple and swallowed it right away.

He had less than 5 seconds to act.

As soon as the small apple entered his mouth, it dissolved like ice cream and melted on his tongue.

[Quite sweet. Different from what I imagined!] He thought. He swallowed the melted liquid from the elixir in one gulp.

But shortly, a tingling sensation similar to low voltage electric shocks passed through every part of his body. Before Zachary could adapt, a sharp pain lanced through his head and then spread out to the rest of his body. His muscles and bones ached when he made any slight movements.

Slowly he tried to ignore the pain by thinking about something else but quickly realized how futile it was when he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. But like a real man, he suppressed his agony and persisted through the ordeal. He would never allow himself to alarm his grandma because of some pains in his body.

Minutes later, the mind-numbing soreness receded like a tide. His body tensed up and relaxed before tensing up once again as it filled up with vitality and energy.

His limbs, especially his left foot, were the most sensitive at that juncture. A mysterious force seemed to wrap around his foot and gradually started mending the torn ligaments and dislocated bones like a tailor stitching up a torn cloth.

Zachary then felt searing fiery bursts pulsating around the injured foot, intensifying with each passing second, jarring and brutal.

But his mind was not in agony but brimming with joy and expectation.

He understood that his injured foot was being healed and could thus choose to ignore the pain. As long as he could become fully fit again, all the suffering would be worth it. So, he endured.

Shortly, the pain disappeared and left his foot numb.

[Was it healed?] Zachary wondered.

He stood up from the bed and sensed that his limbs were stiff and seemingly paralyzed at that moment. He awkwardly ambled around his room while stretching, and soon, the feeling in his legs and arms returned.

Zachary then felt his body permeating with unbounded strength and stamina, the likes he had never experienced even at his peak in his previous lifetime. At that very moment, he felt like a carp leaping over the legendary dragon's gate. So, he opened the system User-Interface and then tapped on the user-stats tab to check out the changes in his body.

*USER STATS

-Physical Fitness: B -

-Soccer Technique: B -

-Game Intelligence: C

-Mental Ability and Mindset: D

-X-Factors: F

-G.O.A.T Skills: None

Zachary could hardly contain his happiness. His physical-fitness, soccer-technique, and mental-ability stats had all improved and pushed his talent-assessment grade from D to C.

He was surprised that his physical-fitness had leaped over two gradings from D to B -. So, he clicked on its tab to understand its changes.

-Physical Fitness (Av. Rating: B -)

Balance and Coordination: C

Agility: D

Strength: B -

Stamina: A -

Endurance Points: 3500/ 5500 (A -)

"I have got to find a way to improve my agility before the trials," Zachary mumbled as if to himself. He was happy with the improvements in his stats except for his 'agility' that was still below average.

In Zachary's short professional soccer career in his previous lifetime, he had suffered on the pitch due to his slow speed and less agile movements. He was always quickly closed down by opponents and often lost the ball more times than he passed it. In due time, he had lost the trust of the coaching staff at TP - Mazembe before they terminated his professional contract.

Zachary understood that a player had to have perfected his body-control before trying to improve his agility. Long strides, correct running form, and a low center of gravity were indications of a high level of body control possessed by professional soccer players. It was under the category of technique rather than physical fitness. Thus, Zachary could perfect it by improving the correctness of form through training.

But this was not something that he could achieve with just a few weeks of training.

He only had about a month to the trials in Lubumbashi. He had to have improved all his abilities by then to stand a chance of gaining the attention of scouts by performing splendidly in the soccer-trials.

[What can I do?] He mused as he sat down on his bed.

But then he remembered that he still had the random 'G.O.A.T-skill reward' from the system. He hurriedly closed the physical-fitness tab and selected the system-lottery.

Right away, three smaller virtual pages filled up the screen from the left to the right side. A big-spin-lottery wheel filled up the page at the center. The contents of the other two virtual pages remained blurry with the word 'locked' inscribed below them.

So, Zachary pivoted his attention to the stationery lottery-wheel that was just too huge and disappeared off into the edges of the screen at the center page. It consisted of small square sections arranged from top to bottom with small images of famous soccer players. In the middle, two purple arms were pointing to a picture of N'Golo Kanté in a tackling posture. Beside the wheel was a red button with the phrases 'spin and win', '*3 chances', and 'confirm lottery' inscribed below it.

Zachary did not waste time on pointless deliberation. He just tapped on the red button, and voila, the wheel spun at a fast speed before stopping with the pointers locked on to the image of Iker Casillas - a Spanish goalkeeper saving the ball.

"Why is the system offering me goalkeeping skills?" Zachary mumbled inaudibly, voice tense. He was growing anxious after the first spin since he didn't acquire his desired result from the lottery.

Although he was a defending midfielder in the short soccer career of his previous lifetime, he inwardly preferred the attacking positions. He would always opt to score goals like the likes of Zlatan Ibrahimovich and Christiano Ronaldo rather than defending like Rio Ferdinand. Attackers had a certain flair to them that could gain them a status much higher than defenders in the eyes of the public. Thus, Zachary neither wanted to be a goalkeeper nor a defender.

He tapped on the red button again, and the wheel spun for a few seconds before stopping at a square with Leonardo Bonucci - the Italian defender shielding the ball. He didn't even bother to take a second glance and used up his last chance to spin the wheel.

This time the wheel spun for a little longer. And after what seemed like years to Zachary, it stopped with its pointers locked on an image of Zinedine Zidane - the famous French Footballer. He was standing with the ball at his feet but looking out into the distance.

"Thank God," Zachary mumbled while letting out a long relaxed breath of pent-up air. He was of the view that no skill from the famous Zizou could be anything but magical. Zizou could score goals and dribble like any of the world-famous number nines despite not being a forward. Thus, Zachary was looking forward to which skill he would receive from the system. It could be his ticket to becoming a pro-soccer player.

So, he tapped on the confirm-lottery button to approve the result.

"DING"

The familiar system notification sounded as the square with the glittering image of Zinedine popped out of the wheel a few seconds later. In a burst of visual colors, it turned into a card that hovered in the front of everything else on the virtual screen.

Zachary strained his eyes to read the words below Zinedine's image.

#1 new message

CONGRATULATIONS

-You have won the lottery and gained one G.O.A.T-skill:

'ZINEDINE VISUAL JUJU'

Tap on the skill-card to learn the G.O.A.T technique.

NB: The user must use the skill-card within a minute. System lottery to be locked after a minute.

5 Travelling to Lubumbashi

Hope bloomed inside Zachary after reading the words below the G.O.A.T-skill card.

Without a moment of hesitation, he clicked on the image of the skill card filling up the screen and learned the Zinedine-Visual-Juju. He was looking forward to how it could improve his budding football career.

Instantly, he felt a pang of headache assaulting his brain as the system implanted new information into his mind. But a while later, his head cleared, and he noticed that there seemed to be no perceivable transformation within his body or mind.

He thus opened the user-stats tab that was already blinking red on the system User-Interface to understand the changes in his stats.

*USER STATS

-Physical Fitness: B -

-Soccer Technique: B

-Game Intelligence: A

-Mental Ability and Mindset: C -

-X-Factors: F

-G.O.A.T Skills: 1 (1 msg)

Zachary's soccer-technique had once again leveled-up from the grading of B- to B in a single evening. His game intelligence had jumped from the C grade and was now an A after learning the Zinedine-Visual-Juju. His mindset had also experienced a minor improvement from grade D to C-.

He was as happy as a kitty in a cream pie.

After suppressing his bubbly emotions, he clicked on the G.O.A.T-skill tab to understand his new skill.

#1 new message

CONGRATULATIONS

-You have learned the G.O.A.T-Skill:

'ZINEDINE VISUAL JUJU'

(1st-level: Progress - 10%)

(check user stats for more info.)

NB: Watch and play more matches to level-up the skill.

Remarks: Practice makes perfect.

Zachary hurriedly closed the G.O.A.T-skills tab and opened the game-intelligence stat.

-Game Intelligence (Av. Rating: A)

Spatial Awareness (A)

Tactical Knowledge (A-)

Risk Assessment (A)

"Fuck!" Zachary exclaimed out loud. "This is not scientific." He could not help but swear after glancing at his game-intelligence stat. It had experienced the most substantial change and was his highest-rated skill according to the system. From a C, it had leaped to the A grade. Zachary suspected that that was a grading close to the highest ratings by the system.

[One G.O.A.T-skill could improve one of my skills by this much...] He mused.

He could not help but daydream.

[What if I managed to learn 5 or 10, or maybe 20?]

[What if I obtained the dribbling skills of Ronaldinho?] He grinned.

[I'd turn into a soccer divine beast? Maybe even another Mighty Steel Leg.]

The changes in his game-intelligence were beyond his expectations.

Zachary understood that highly-rated game-intelligence indicated his ability to make smart decisions on the pitch and make them quickly.

An intelligent player always had good spatial awareness and was able to see spaces clearly across the entire soccer-pitch and utilize them to his advantage.

That was why coaches referred to spatial-awareness as the sixth sense of a soccer player. A player with a sixth sense would remain aware of where his teammates were and anticipate where they would be just by looking at the positioning of the other team.

The skill was not inborn but developed through experience. This was the same for the tactical-knowledge and risk-assessment skills also under the game-intelligence category.

However, the G.O.A.T-system could improve the whole three skills just by implanting obscure soccer knowledge and experiences in his head. Zachary was both mystified and filled with joy.

[With the system, I could become one of the best.] He thought.

He now had to work extra hard towards leveling-up the Zinedine-Visual-Juju. It was a skill that might soon raise his talent above the B grade. Although his talent-assessment had not yet improved from the C grading, he was sure that he might level it up once again before the trials.

A month later, as the day dawned crisp and clear, Zachary rode a mini-bus over the earth, his eyes on the trees that grew in their infinite patience. He felt the movement of the wheels over the bumpy road, following the curves and greeting each slope in its smooth way.

Zachary had woken up long before dawn to catch the first public transport from Bukavu to Uvira that day. He had said his goodbyes to his grandma last night and departed from the farm before she woke. He was on his way to Lubumbashi City, not to partake in the new school term (like he had told his grandma) but to join the ADTA's soccer trials for this year.

The trials happened once every year in July and August.

At these trials, there were always scouts from the local clubs like TP Mazembe, RC Kinshasha, Lubumbashi Sport, and others in the Linafoot - the top-tier soccer league in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Zachary could have chosen to undergo some other soccer trials at his home town's local team - Olympic Club Muungano back in Bukavu and might have been successful. But he would then miss out on an opportunity to perform in front of the scouts from the French academies.

His goal was not to join the local soccer-clubs, but the high-performance sports academies in Europe.

He understood the importance of joining a good youth training program at an early age if one wanted to make it to the top of the soccer industry as a pro-player. The academies in France were famous for nurturing professional players using cutting-edge technology and methodologies. Students at these academies would train all year round with coaches who were highly experienced in training and developing amateurs into professional players.

Zachary needed to join such academies if he wanted to have a chance at becoming a renowned player. There, he could earn world-class education, develop his ball technique, and gain access and connections to professional coaches all around the world.

In such an academy, Zachary would not have to worry about a shortage of sports equipment like balls and soccer-boots like in his previous life. He would not miss a wink of sleep or training due to an empty stomach. Above all, he would not have to worry about his security while developing his career. There were no rebels and militia groups in Europe to disturb and interrupt his progress.

Zachary was very determined and highly motivated to win a scholarship to one of the academies. The only way he knew how in the short term was through joining the trial in Lubumbashi.

So, he had even decided to miss the first month of school (without his grandma's knowledge) and instead opted to attend the soccer-trials. If he could earn £ 150,000 a week, like the professional players in the EPL, he would study at the best Universities in the world later in life instead of wasting away in Congo.

The mini-bus to Uvira was anything but luxury, the seats dulled by the grime of over a decade. The metallic seats and windows shook with every small bump in the bumpy road, jostling the passengers back and forth.

As the world slid by the window, there were occasional small movements from amongst the passengers. Zachary could see some of them shifting in their seats and also hear a little cough accompanied by a mild 'excuse me'. Whenever the mini-bus passed by some of the smaller towns, the brakes would at times squeak before everyone lurched forward as the vehicle came to a stop. Amid the gasps of the passengers, a few locally-dressed men and women would stream into the mini-bus after briefly bargaining with the conductor, and others would exit after paying the fare.

Zachary soon got tired of the scenery and dozed off. He awoke six hours later as the mini-bus pulled into the station in Uvira. He followed the other passengers and alighted from the mini-bus with his metallic suitcase in tow.

He headed to the ticket booking office of the ferry and learned that it was leaving the next day.

Zachary slept the night in a small motel in Uvira (thanks to his ample savings) and departed with the ferry to Kalemie the next morning. He then hired a motorbike from Kalemie to Mulungo and spent two days on the road, traveling close to 300 miles southwards. After that, he alternated between a bus and a motorbike as he traveled through bumpy roads, some glistening with recent rain and others treacherous with portholes.

Zachary was not depressed about the long journey but was brimming with happiness and anticipation the further south he moved. He was slowly but surely inching towards the city where he would begin his journey towards greatness.

He traveled more than 1000 miles and arrived in Lubumbashi six days after leaving Bukavu. Lubumbashi was the second-largest city in DR Congo, located in the southeasternmost part, along the border with Zambia. It was a city that held a lot of Zachary's painful memories. It was where he had begun and prematurely ended his pro-soccer career in his previous life.

With luggage in hand, Zachary looked for a motel to spend the night and chose to think about everything else the next day. The week-long journey had tired him out.

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creators' thoughts

6 Start of the Trials

July 19, 2010: Lubumbashi – DR Congo.

The first slither of the sun peeked over the skyline in a radiant, golden form. Brilliant gold and orange hues bled like fire in the east over the rivers, forests, and beyond Lubumbashi City.

The sun rays fell slanting through Zachary's motel-room window. He blinked a few times in an attempt to help his eyes adjust to the illumination directed right at his defenseless figure.

"What a beautiful morning," he mumbled to himself. He had slept like a baby the previous night. Although the small motel room was very cheap by Lubumbashi's standards, it had a mattress much more comfortable than the one at his grandma's house.

Zachary jumped out of bed and hurried off to wash up in preparation for the day to come.

A few minutes later, he ate a light breakfast provided by the motel and headed off to the city after handing in his key. He left his luggage in his room since he had booked it for a whole week. Moreover, he wasn't worried about thieves since there was nothing valuable to steal from his simple metallic suitcase.

After leaving the small motel in downtown Lubumbashi, he joined the crowd heading to the city center. He wanted to buy some sports gear.

The city was flooding with a sea of people moving in different directions. The higher-class strutted down the high street carrying their designer handbags and wearing their latest brands or jeans and sneakers. Whereas the lower-class people sat down on the cold littered floor begging for money. On every street corner, buskers were singing top Lingala songs that were popular in DRC. Some sang with a marvelous talent, while others sounded like a cat in a washing machine. New and old cars, motorbikes carrying two to four passengers, and men riding bicycles were everywhere swarming like locusts.

Zachary ignored the city's chaos and kept to himself. He walked through the different second-hand shops buying the sports gear he needed for the trials. He didn't want to risk being chased away by the coaches because of inadequate preparations. Such situations had happened to him a lot in his previous life.

By midday, Zachary had bought a pair of nice second-hand boots, jerseys, and shin-guards.

He had nearly spent all the money he had won by betting on Spain winning the world cup in South Africa. With his knowledge of the future, he had made quite a few bucks when he was still in Bukavu and thought he was rich for the moment. But after one shopping trip, Zachary was nearly back to zero. But this did not dampen his mood. He was sure that he would get a lot more opportunities to make more money.

After shopping, he retired back to his motel room to rest and prepare for the ADTA's trials happening the next day. Zachary wanted to make sure that he was well-rested and not fatigued. He understood that only a well-rested player could perform a hundred percent on the pitch.

Back in his room, he went through a light Hatha-Yoga routine before opening the systems interface to check out his current progress. He was mainly concerned about his soccer-technique stats that would be scrutinized by the coaches and scouts during the trials.

USER STATS

-Soccer-Technique (Av. Rating: B )

Ball Control: A

Dribbling skills: C

Passing accuracy: A -

Body control: B -

Preferred foot: (Left and Right)

After obtaining the Zizou-Visual-Juju and training with the locals back in Bukavu, his soccer-technique had stabilized at the B grading. He had tried to improve the grade by utilizing all means possible, but it remained unchanged despite his efforts.

The system did not offer any more rewards for the whole month but just punishments if he didn't complete the daily training schedules it had stipulated. Thus, Zachary was at a bottleneck in the meantime.

"Come what may, I will not fail." He vowed.

He was still confident that his passing, ball control, and game awareness would help him through the trials.

Early morning the next day, Zachary hired a motorbike and headed to Kibassa-Maliba Stadium. It was the home of TP - Mazembe (his previous life's club) until 2011.

By the time he arrived at Kibassa-Maliba, there were already more than a hundred budding soccer players waiting to partake in that year's ADTA's trials. Some were seated on the pavilion seats and others on the running tracks. They had already donned their kits.

Zachary noticed some noteworthy players among them who would later become famous in Africa and beyond. Seated in the front row of the pavilion was the young Chris Luyinda that would later play for TP Mazembe, Standard Liège, and Galatasary. Zachary didn't have good feelings towards him as he had often picked on him when they were at TP Mazambe in his previous life.

There were also other would be famous names like Fredric Luamba, Nike Kabanga, and Ngonda Muzinga seated on the running tracks.

But Zachary ignored the rest and focussed on the one player who had benefitted the most from the ADTA trials in his previous life.

Leaning on the pavilion's wall was a young boy who would go on to shock the soccer world some twelve years later. He was Steven Mangala, the player who joined a high-performance soccer academy right after the trials at the age of fourteen. By the year 2022, he would already be renowned as the next Samuel Eto scoring many goals and becoming one of the best African talents in that era.

But too bad for DRC, Mangala rejected the national team's call before changing citizenship and playing for Belgium during Zachary's previous life. He was cursed by many Congolese fans all day and night but continued scoring goals like a machine. Mangala was the perfect example of what Zachary had wished to achieve in his previous life.

[I will also succeed this time. With the system, I will soon fly into the skies.] Zachary vowed inwardly.

He found a place to sit and put on his jersey and boots.

But his solace was soon disturbed by some annoying brats. He stood up and turned around to look at two guys who had been close friends to him before he got injured. They were Patrick Luamba and Tony Majembe that were his former classmates, and also from Bukavu. But after his accident, they distanced themselves and started making fun of him at school on a daily basis.

"Yo. Isn't this our famous captain - Zachary Bemba." Tony, a tall lanky youth, sighed. He had a physique similar to that of Peter Crouch.

"Sure it is," the bite-sized Patrick chimed in.

"What is he doing here? He should be back in Bukavu eating potatoes and milking cows."

"Maybe, he is here to see us impress the scouts and join TP Mazembe."

"That should be the case..."

[Empty tins make noise.] Zachary sighed.

"Patrick, Tony," He intoned while glaring at the two boys. "What's it that you want? Do you need another beating?" He asked while taking a few steps towards the two scoundrels. Zachary was already taller than most of the other boys his age and thus looked intimidating.

The two took a few steps back, seeming a bit panicked and occasionally stealing a few glances at Chris Luyinda in the pavilion.

[He must have put them up to this.] Zachary concluded while observing his former rival. Luyinda was always the bully in whichever team he joined. Zachary was not surprised that he was already sending his sycophants to bully him.

"Do you want another beating?" Zachary creased a brow as he glared at the boys. He wanted to make a stand and ensure that he was not disturbed by any other brats during the trials.

"You can try," Tony stammered. "But, are you sure that you want to assault an ADTA registered candidate before the trials?" He asked.

Zachary frowned and was about to give the boys a piece of his mind but then stopped. He was interrupted by a few coaches that started emerging from the dressing room and lining up on the grass in the center of the field.

All the players hurriedly exited the pavilion and congregated on the soccer pitch before the coaches.

"Good morning to you all..." A plump aged man with a long goatee bellowed. Zachary was familiar with the coach. He was Samson Damata, one of TP Mazembe's youth development staff. He was a no-nonsense man who had trained several professional players that went on to play for the DRC national team in its golden years.

"I presume that everyone here has already registered as a participant in the 2010 Lubumbashi Trials. If not, I suggest that you leave right now before I call security." Coach Samson Damata added.

None of the players turned to leave.

"Okay then," Samson intoned after a few seconds. "I guess everyone here has registered then." He patted his small belly.

"But we don't want to know your names as of yet," he yelled. "Because most of you won't be here tomorrow," he added, voice turning dramatic towards the end.

The voices of the youths started babbling anxiously like a mountain river. Zachary remained quiet. He was already in the know that the trials of 2010 would be different. In the past, TP Mazembe coaching staff would allow every soccer player who had registered to participate in the final soccer-trials. But for this year, only a select couple of dozens would remain after undergoing screening due to the presence of the French scouts.

"Quiet," Coach Damata bellowed, instantly silencing the youth.

"I won't waste my time explaining our decision to you. But you have to know that we only want twenty-six players from your group. The rest will have to go home and wait for next year's trials."

"We shall only be testing one thing. That's your physical fitness. You will never become a pro as long as you are not fit. So, our test simple." Coach Damata paused while grinning.

All the young players gathered on the pitch became nervous.

"You will have to run thirty-two laps around this field. Those with the fastest times get to stay for the main trials." Coach Damata stated.

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creators' thoughts

7 A New System Mission

"DING"

No sooner had Coach Damata announced the first test in the trial than the familiar system notification resounded in Zachary's mind. The translucent blue screen shimmered and then popped up in front of him without being summoned. The incident was a first as he usually had to will the screen to appear when he needed to check the user interface of the system.

Zachary ignored the chaos around him and checked the contents of the notification.

G.O.A.T MISSIONS

#NEW MISSION: Lubumbashi soccer trials (serial missions)

*Task 1: Become the first in the physical fitness testing at the soccer trials.

*Rewards:

-B-grade agility-enhancing-elixir

(Will make you faster and more in control of your body.)

*Punishment in case of failure:

-The G.O.A.T system will go offline for three months.

*Remarks: A G.O.A.T is a player who should dominate his profession from the start or at the very least try to. Cheers to the beginning of your rise as a potential G.O.A.T.

NB: Mission tasks to be updated as the trials continue.

"What the fuck?" Zachary exclaimed out loud, forgetting where he was. "How will I achieve this with all the monsters partaking in the trial?" He mumbled.

"You have anything against my instructions, young man?" Zachary heard Coach Damata bellow, his voice sounding incensed. He looked up only to find the other players staring at him with stunned and perplexed eyes. Some like Luyinda, Patrick, and Tony were trying their best to suppress their laughter.

[What have I done?] Zachary's heart leaped into his throat.

He looked towards the front and saw the dark-skinned Coach Damata wearing a scary face as he glared at him, his hands akimbo.

"Young man," he intoned. "Do you have anything against my instructions?" He once again asked, his fists clenching and relaxing. Zachary could tell that the no-nonsense coach was angry. He resolved to save the situation before it escalated.

"I'm sorry, sir," Zachary stammered, trying his best to sound humble. "I quite forgot myself there and shouted out loud. I meant no offense." He added, giving a slight bow to the coach. He was aware that Coach Damata liked honest students who could acknowledge their faults rather than gloss over them. So, he decided to disclose some half-truths to gain the coach's pardon.

"Can you tell us what you were thinking at the time? We want to understand what could make a young man forget himself when at one of the most rewarding soccer trials in the country."

Zachary let out a breath of relief as he heard the coach's tone lighten. He appeared to have passed the first hurdle.

"I was thinking about how I need to best all the players here to catch the eye of one of the scouts. I am very nervous, sir." He replied in a shaky voice.

A titter rippled across the otherwise silent stadium. Some of the young men held on to their stomachs and laughed like there was no tomorrow. The adolescents seemed very amused by Zachary's cowardice. But this did not affect him in any way as he was only concerned about the coach.

"Quiet," Damata bellowed once again, putting a stop to the waves of roiling laughter.

"Young man," he said, turning back towards Zachary. "I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. I will let this slide in the meantime. But mark my words, this should be the last time an incident like this happens." The coach let his gaze roam over the players to emphasize his point.

None of the players wanted to have a negative tag from the coach so, they remained quiet with their heads bowed.

"Young man," Damata once again eyed Zachary. "What is your name?" He asked.

"I'm Zachary Bemba, sir."

"Zachary Bemba," Coach Damata mumbled. "That name seems abit familiar." Another coach standing to his left whispered a few words to Damata. The latter raised his head and looked at Zachary, grinning.

"I will be watching you during the trials. Try to do your level best." Damata intoned. He then continued giving out his directives.

Zachary only half-listened to the rest of the coach's instructions. His mind was mainly on the system mission. The system had offered the best possible reward for him at that moment. He needed the agility-enhancing-elixir to break through his bottleneck. But he was supposed to outrun everyone, including the boy prodigy - Steven Mangala. Zachary didn't think that he was already the best in his age group just because of a few gifts from the system. There may be players who were already at the S grade by fifteen. Zachary suspected that Mangala was such a player.

[But what's there to fear?] He thought after calming down.

[Mangala is still fourteen. I have longer strides and pretty good stamina. I can definitely win.] Zachary grinned.

He then concentrated back on the words of Coach Damata who seemed to be completing his peroration.

"From our records, we know that there should be 120 players here," Coach Damata stated. "We will divide you into four groups, each with about 30 players."

"When coach Mande here reads your name, you're up in the first group," he said, pointing to a thin man on his left. "Head to the tracks and wait for the whistle. And good luck."

Coach Mande swiftly finished announcing the names of the players in the first group. Zachary was not among and just waited on the grass with the rest. However, the likes of Fredric Luamba and Ngoda Muzinga were in the group.

The race soon started after Coach Mande blew his whistle. Fredric led the others around the pitch from beginning to end. He completed the 32 laps in only 41 minutes and was a couple of minutes ahead of the second rank. The other would be famous names that Zachary was familiar with were also in the top ten.

After the coaches recorded the finishing times of the 30 participants, the second group commenced their race. Zachary was again not selected among the participants. But he noticed that his former friends, Tony and Patrick, were in the group. They managed to finish among the top five, behind the monstrous Chris Luyinda that had almost doubled the rest of the players.

By noon, the third group was finishing their race. It was now finally Zachary's turn to head to the running tracks. And as fate would have it, the boy prodigy - Stephen Mangala, was also in the fourth group.

Zachary stepped on the running tracks knowing he would have little chance to win against Mangala. But if he did win, he would win an agility-enhancing-elixir from the system that would upgrade his talent. Zachary would then not have to worry about not being agile enough later in the trials. Thus, he was more psyched up to win than anyone.

[I'll win this race.] He inwardly vowed while lining up with the others on the tracks. He was only waiting for the whistle.

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Thanks (*)

8 First Day of the Trials

*FWEEEEEEE!*

In the blazing midday heat, Zachary and the other participants in the fourth group set-off as soon as Coach Mande blew the whistle. The last race in the Lubumbashi trials had started.

Zachary did not bother to spy on his other opponents but just took off at half of his top speed. It was a race of 32 laps totaling approximately 8 miles. He needed to save his energy by slowing his pace at the beginning.

However, the noteworthy players like Miché Mika and Nike Kabanga were in a class of their own. The two were unparalleled when they found clear space during the second lap. They shot forward at their fastest pace and soon led the entire pack of the 30 players. Stubbornly sticking to them was Stephen Mangala, the springy boy prodigy from Kinshasha.

To Zachary's surprise, a short boy he hadn't encountered in his previous life was also part of the leading group.

The group of four started to break away from the others, a feat that caused Zachary to worry. So, he accelerated.

He increased his pace until he was only a few meters behind them during the sixth lap. However, the four stubbornly stuck to their lead despite all his efforts.

For the next twenty laps, their group accelerated ahead of the rest, taking an average of 70 seconds per lap. Their time was only about 10 seconds behind the top runners in the world. They came close to doubling the rest.

Miché Mika led wearing an Olympique Lyonnais jersey. Nike Kabanga and Stephen Mangala shadowed every stride, both wearing arsenal t-shirts. The unknown boy also stuck to the group. However, he had begun losing his stamina and Zachary easily overtook him.

He maintained his acceleration and went past Kabanga and Mangala as well. By the 28th lap, only Miché Mika was still ahead of him.

With only 3 laps to go, Zachary Bemba started closing the gap. Miché Mika dug, pushed harder, and did everything to shake his competitor. But, he was also overtaken by Zachary towards the end of the 29th lap.

Zachary was giddy with excitement but maintained his swift pace. He continued dashing along the brown clay tracks of the stadium. He had no intention of losing his lead.

The spikes underneath his boots gripped the earth in a rhythm. His strides became lyrics to an original track he had gotten a chance to play for the audience of the coaches watching from the sidelines. Droplets of sweat had long started to run down his skin.

Zachary had been jogging an average of five miles each day for the two weeks preceding his journey to Lubumbashi. His fitness could hold up against the remaining few laps around the pitch.

However, at the start of the penultimate lap, Zachary saw a shadow flash by, leaving him in the dust. The boy prodigy, Stephen Mangala, had overtaken him with only 800 meters to go.

[Shit!]

He also accelerated but failed to catch up with him.

[Am I going to lose?]

He labored to increase his pace. The pain in his limbs was an ocean of unknowable depths and lurking beasts. But, he ignored it and continued chasing Mangala's shadow.

A feeling of dejection washed over him. He felt his legs become heavy like they were weighed down by lead.

[I have to win this no matter what.]

He tapped into energy reserves he never thought he had and accelerated instantly.

Coach Damata stood on the sidelines watching the race. He had taken a keen interest in the fourth group that included two interesting boys who had formerly been noticed by the TP Mazembe scouts. They had all participated in regional under-14 tournaments. Stephen Mangala had been the best player in the secondary school competition held in Kinshasha at the start of the year. The other boy, Zachary Bemba, had been the captain of a primary school in Lubumbashi. He had won the 2008 best player award in the Lubumbashi under-14 regionals.

The boys did not disappoint him.

"Mangala, the new boy will take this race," Coach Mande announced from his left. "Zachary and the rest are spent and have no chance of catching up," he added.

"Let's wait and see," Coach Damata smiled. "A competition is never won until the very end," he intoned. He focused back on the running forms of Mangala and Zachary.

The race's results looked like a foregone conclusion after the last bend. Mangala flew gleefully towards the finish line while Zachary desperately chased. But, with half a lap to go, Zachary contorted his body and sprinted, pulling off a schoolboy imitation of a galloping horse.

With 30 meters remaining, Zachary miraculously accelerated past Mangala before dashing to the finish line. He looked back at neither those behind him nor the coaches on the sidelines. His eyes remained locked on the finish line until he won the race.

"Beni Badibanga, Paul Kasongo, Patrick Luamba, Tony Majembe, ...Chris Luyinda, Miché Mika, Fredric Luamba, Stephen Mangala, and Zachary Bemba." Coach Mande closed his counter book after reading out the names of the players with the best times in the race.

As promised, the coaches only selected 26 boys among those gathered. Those whose names had been called by Coach Mande entered the center circle of the pitch as part of the group selected to return for trial matches the following day.

Zachary was the last to be called since he had the best time in the whole group. Coach Mande had been reading the list in descending order.

Zachary swaggered into the center circle, earning a few frowns and harrumphs from the likes of Chris Luyinda and his former classmates Tony and Patrick.

He noticed that the eyes of most of the selected players were fixed on him, unlike before. But he ignored them and found an unoccupied spot to sit. He still had to check out his results of the system mission.

At the end of the race, Zachary had been too tired to even lift a finger. He had resolved to rest for a few minutes; however, the coaches had called everyone to partake in a post-race assembly.

Only then did Zachary get time to open the system user interface. He had already confirmed that it was invisible to others. So, he boldly opened the missions tab and perused through his achievements.

*G.O.A.T MISSIONS

#4 new messages

CONGRATULATIONS

-You have completed 1st task in the serial mission - Lubumbashi Soccer Trials (Become the first in the physical fitness testing at the soccer trials).

-Mission-Rewards

1) B-grade agility enhancing elixir (Available in system-shop; temporarily unlocked. The user must consume the elixir within 5 seconds after being removed from the system shop.)

-Mission Summary

*Task 1: Become the first in the physical fitness testing at the soccer trials. (Finished race in a record time of 39.12 minutes; Rating A)

-Overall Mission Rating: NA (available at the end of the trials)

-Bonus rewards

You have earned 2 bonus juju points

Zachary finally confirmed that he had completed the mission task with an A grade.

However, he did not open the system-shop to access his reward. He closed the interface and looked up only to see the boys that had not been selected marching out of the pitch with dejected expressions. He couldn't help but recall the times he had been part of such a group during his previous life.

He sighed in sympathy.

At this point in his past life, he had returned to his former school in western Lubumbashi with no hope of becoming a professional soccer player. He had been rejected by the school team later due to a recurring ankle injury. But now, he had gone through the first stage of the ADTA trials. His fate was starting to change for the better.

[I only have to perform well in the matches tomorrow. I can then move to Europe and seriously develop my career.] He thought.

"Listen up, everyone," Coach Damata bellowed once the unsuccessful players had left the stadium.

"Congratulations on passing the first test of the trial. Tomorrow, several renowned scouts will be here to watch you perform. Make sure you are here by eight. Otherwise, you will face immediate disqualification." The coach warned solemnly.

"Any questions?" He asked, looking around.

The strange boy who had also been part of the leading group in Hugo's race instantly raised his arm.

"Yes," Coach Damata pointed at him. "Tell us your name first before asking your question."

"My name is Paul Kasongo, sir," the boy stammered. "What will be involved in the trials tomorrow? How should we prepare?" He asked.

[So, he is Kasongo, the player murdered before he left for Europe in my previous life.] Zachary mused.

He finally understood why he didn't recognize a highly fit player like him. Paul Kasongo had died at the hands of a local prostitute in Lubumbashi after being selected by one of the high-performance academies in Europe. All the coaches in Lubumbashi had sighed in regret at the loss of such a budding talent.

[I should help him this time. DR Congo needs more players like him for international tournaments.]

"There will only be trial matches tomorrow," Damata replied. "Eat well, rest well, and come prepared to perform tomorrow morning. That's all."

"Any more questions?"

All the players remained silent.

"Okay, you're dismissed," Coach Damata waved impatiently. "We'll see you all tomorrow."

Thanks for reading. Voting is now open. Please vote, comment, review, and add to the library.

creators' thoughts

9 Talent Upgrade

After being dismissed by Coach Damata, Zachary exited the stadium and trekked northwards to downtown Lubumbashi.

The road ahead of him shimmered in the heat of the afternoon sun. The oppressive heat beat down on his head like he was bacon under a grill.

Suddenly, the after-effects of the race washed over him. He felt lightheaded. His knees began aching, threatening to buckle. He felt like his brain was on a five percent battery. All he wanted was to rest and soak in the calm peace of nature.

He decided to hire a motorbike back to his motel. That tapped further into his dwindling finances. However, his state of destitution didn't sour his mood. His fate was altering. If all went as planned, he would be swimming in dollars in only a few years.

A few minutes later, Zachary leisurely walked to the public bathrooms of his motel. He felt that only a cold shower could soothe his tender muscles.

The dirty bathroom and cold water were the best he could get with his meager funds. The pipes screeched like a ghost in a horror movie before spitting out a dribble of cold water. Zachary braced himself to prevent himself from reflexively jumping out of the stream before he'd finished soaping and rinsing his body.

The water poured down and dripped to the floor. As his mind faded into dullness, everything became a foggy illusion. He felt like he was standing underneath an everlasting waterfall. The sensation of the cold water calmed him, making him reminisce about events from his past life.

[What could she be doing now?]

Images of a beautiful girl that had come close to becoming his wife flooded his mind. He had dated Anita for more than two years. He was about to propose to her when his life got turned upside down. The moment his contract with TP Mazembe got terminated, the girl up and disappeared. He had failed to trace her whereabouts even during his later years.

[I need to make time and head to Kinshasha to see her.] Zachary resolved. He needed to gaze at her one last time before returning his attention to his career.

Zachary exited the shower and headed back to his motel room. He felt refreshed and ate a light lunch before sleeping off his fatigue until evening.

He felt rejuvenated after waking up. He was physically ready to take the elixir. So, he opened the system user interface.

A card with an image of a fresh onion appeared on the translucent blue screen when he clicked on the temporarily-unlocked system-inventory tab.

Once he selected it, a small onion popped out of the screen. He wasted no time in tossing it into his mouth.

This time around, the B-grade elixir did not cause his body any pain. He only felt a slightly ticklish sensation, like he was under the ministrations of a massage therapist. But soon, the feeling passed as if it had never been there.

[Is that all?]

His experience with the vitality enhancing elixir was a far cry from the agility one. The former brought great pain while the latter caused only a slightly ticklish sensation.

Zachary doubted whether the elixir had been effective.

He clenched and unclenched his hands to see whether anything changed. However, there seemed to be no way of checking. He had no idea how raising his agility would affect him. So, he opened the system user interface to peruse through his attributes.

SOCCER G.O.A.T SYSTEM

SYSTEM LEVEL: 1 (17/100 juju points to level-up)

USER: Zachary Bemba

AGE: 15 years

TALENT ASSESSMENT: Grade-B

JUJU-POINTS: 17

(Evaluation: A slightly talented pitiful boy dreaming about playing on the pro soccer scene)

USER MENU

*USER STATS

*G.O.A.T MISSIONS

*SYSTEM SHOP (temporarily-unlocked)

*SYSTEM LOTTERY (locked)

*SNOOPING TOOL (locked)

NB: Pls level-up the system to unlock more functions.

"Yes," Zachary yelled excitedly after perusing through the home page. His talent assessment had finally broken through to the B grading after more than a month of toiling. He tapped on the user-stats tab to see the breakdown of the changes in his attributes.

*USER STATS

-Physical Fitness: B

-Soccer Technique: A -

-Game Intelligence: A

-Mental Ability and Mindset: C -

-X-Factors: F

-G.O.A.T Skills: 1

Zachary's physical-fitness and soccer-technique stats had all increased by a single grade. He clicked on the soccer technique tab next.

USER STATS

-Soccer-Technique (Av. Rating: A -)

Ball Control: A

Dribbling skills: B -

Passing accuracy: A -

Body control: B

Preferred foot: (Left and Right)

He had expected such a result. A player who improved his agility would also enhance both his dribbling skills and body control. The two attributes had improved by a grade after his consumption of the agility-enhancing-elixir. However, he couldn't understand why his physical-fitness hadn't leaped to the A- grade. The elixir was B-grade but had only caused minor changes in his physical fitness. So, he tapped on the physical-fitness tab to gain a better understanding of the changes in his body.

-Physical Fitness (Av. Rating: B )

Balance and Coordination: B -

Agility: B

Strength: B -

Stamina: B

Endurance Points: 3500/ 5500 (A -)

"My stamina has dropped!" Zachary exclaimed. He noticed that his stamina had fallen from the A- to the B grading.

He was perplexed.

[Maybe agility enhancement directly reduces stamina.]

His agility had leaped from the D to the B grading. Consuming the elixir also enhanced his balance-and-coordination from the C to the B- grading.

He was now confident he would excel during the trial matches tomorrow.

But before he could soak in the feeling of jubilation at improving his abilities, a wave of hunger washed over him. His stomach growled and rumbled. He couldn't think of anything but food.

"Is this a side effect of the elixir?" He mumbled while patting his tammy. He glanced at his Asahi-watch; it was still six o'clock in the evening.

Zachary cleaned up and dashed out of his room to fill up his belly. He was critically short of money and decided to head to a roadside food stall nearby. He had already resorted to meals consisting solely of pancakes and fried cassava.

But as he stepped out of the motel, he bumped into Paul Kasongo, the strange boy that had also been selected for the trials happening the following day.

"You're Zachary Bemba? Right?" Kasongo asked, grinning.

"Yes, that's me," Zachary replied, creasing his brows. "Are you staying in a nearby motel? Why are you here?"

Paul Kasongo was fated to be murdered by a prostitute at the end of that week. According to the memories of his previous life, the unfortunate incident would take place in a Lubumbashi motel room.

"Hahaha," Kasongo laughed heartily. "I'm here to visit a friend that works around here. Why would I stay in such a dump?"

"You're not?" Zachary breathed out a sigh of relief. He only had to ensure that Kasongo stayed out of motels in downtown Lubumbashi to prevent his murder.

"I'm staying at the Hollybum Planet Hotel at Kilele Avenue," Kasongo replied, smiling.

"What the fuck!" Zachary exclaimed. "You're that rich?"

Hollybum Planet was a hotel for filthy rich Congolese and tourists from first world countries like France. He had heard that a single night's stay cost upwards of 150 US Dollars.

To his surprise, a boy about his age was staying comfortably in it. Zachary sighed at the unfairness of the world. He couldn't help but gaze back at his shabby motel.

"What can I say? I was born blessed." Kasongo spread out his arms like he was hugging the sky.

"I'm glad to make your acquaintance," he said, extending his arm.

Zachary shook it before nodding.

He observed the would-be murder victim more closely.

Kasongo was almost half a foot shorter than himself. He looked to be only around five-two. He vaguely resembled a younger Raheem Sterling, the famous player who would join Manchester City in the future. He had humorous brown eyes, round cheeks, a long face, and a dark-skin shade.

"I feel like fate made us meet here," Kasongo intoned, voice mellow. "Come on. I'll buy you dinner today." He added, patting Zachary's back.

"I've already eaten," Zachary lied. He didn't want to begin relying on rich kids for his meals. That would go against the teachings of his grandma. He resented charity from strangers.

However, his honest stomach betrayed him. It suddenly snarled and howled. A not-so-subtle undertone of pain followed. It came in waves, making him feel like his insides were digesting themselves.

Zachary clutched at his belly, pulling it this way and that in an attempt to silence it. All his efforts were fruitless. The sounds only grew louder, earning him a few curious glances from Kasongo and passers-by.

"Man," Kasongo creased a brow. "When did you last have a sensible meal?" He asked.

"At lunchtime," Zachary replied honestly. He was certain the hunger and pain were an after-effect of the agility-enhancing-elixir. It seemed to have burnt through all his stored energy reserves. He urgently needed to replenish them.

"Don't be a sissy, man," Kasongo intoned. "Just tag along and have some food. You'll mess up in the trials tomorrow if you go on like this."

Zachary agreed reluctantly.

Half an hour later, Zachary and Kasongo sat at a table covered with a multitude of exquisite dishes.

They had traveled to the Lubumbashi Food Plaza, a classy restaurant that served exotic cuisine. It had large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, a flagstone tiled floor, and dark walnut tables, each with a vase of flowers as a centerpiece. Soothing Lingala music was playing live.

It was the sort of place that required making a reservation a week in advance. It was virtually impossible to get a table on demand. However, Kasongo did succeed at reserving a table on short notice.

A few moments after Zachary had slid into his chair and made his order, a beautiful waitress brought him an enormous platter of food. Eggs, all kinds of meat, and crispy fried potatoes lay before him. A tureen of fruit had been placed in ice to keep it chilled next to them. The basket of rolls they brought as an afterthought could keep his family going for a week. He also had a glass of fruity cocktail juice.

[Even with my experience from two lives, I can't come to terms with the existence of this side of DR Congo.]

He sighed at the unfairness of the world.

Many were starving in the downtown of Lubumbashi while the rich stuffed themselves with delicacies. However, he was not depressed since he had come to understand the ways of society.

[A man has to work hard and make it or die trying.]

He continued stuffing himself with food like there was no tomorrow. The elixir had done a number on him. It would take a lot to sate his hunger. Zachary only stopped eating after his second helping. Kasongo gave him enough time to finish eating before starting a conversation.

"So, you're from Bukavu?" Kasongo asked.

"Yes," Zachary replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Before I forget, thanks for the meal," he added.

"Small matter, small matter." Kasongo grinned.

"So, where are you from?" Zachary inquired. "I haven't seen you in any Lubumbashi youth soccer competitions."

"Hehehe," Kasongo laughed. "I'm a son of Kinshasha. I used to be a teammate of your competitor Stephen Mangala."

"You really took us for a ride in that race," he added. "You and Mangala are monsters. How do you guys train your stamina?" He asked, gazing curiously at Zachary.

"Well, I run five miles every day," he answered. "You should try it too. It could help."

"Why are you in these trials?" Zachary quickly asked. He was looking for some hints on what led to Kasongo's murder in his previous life.

"What do you mean?"

"I can tell your financial situation is quite good. You're living in a four-star hotel. You're even wearing timberland boots that probably cost more than my school fees. Why don't you tell your parents to enroll you in the soccer academies abroad instead? It would be much easier to develop yourself there. Why join the Lubumbashi trials?"

Kasongo frowned noticeably before replying.

"My father doesn't want me to play soccer," he grumbled. "He says it's a waste of time. He's always talking about how the majority of Congolese soccer players in the local league waste away after retirement."

"Oh, but that's true," Zachary replied. "So, you came here without his permission? Where did you get the money to spend in Lubumbashi?"

"My stepbrother sponsored my trip here. He's the only one who knows I'm taking part in the trials."

"He's much older and already joined my dad's mining company. At least, he understands that a person should only do what they love."

[What a naive boy. Perhaps, the stepbrother instigated his murder.] Zachary mused.

It wasn't uncommon for siblings from wealthy families to murder each other in cold blood for inheritance. Zachary found it hard to believe that a local prostitute had murdered a wealthy patron like Kasongo. There seemed to be a lot of facts that remained unknown to the public in his previous life.

"Does your brother know you're attending the Kibassa-Maliba trials specifically?"

"No," Kasongo replied, smiling.

"He only booked my hotel and left me to my own devices. He has never been a fan of soccer. He doesn't even know any of the teams here in Lubumbashi."

"What if your father pressures him to disclose where you are? He could pull you out of the trials then. Are you certain he'll keep his mouth shut even after your dad finds out you're gone?" Zachary asked, locking gazes with Kasongo. He intended to coax him away from locations known to his murderer.

"What if he pulls you out of the trial before it's finished? You would be blacklisted by all coaches and miss a shot at any other trials in DR Congo." He added.

"You do make a good point. What can I do?" Kasongo stammered. He looked panicked.

"You should either leave the hotel your brother booked and shift elsewhere or return to Kinshasha right away," Zachary stated. He intended to put Kasongo beyond the tentacles of his would-be murderers.

Kasongo shook his head in dejection.

"I can't leave," he whispered. " I heard that international scouts will appear tomorrow."

"You want to continue staying at your hotel?"

"Nope," he smiled. "I get your point. I'll move to another hotel right away." Kasongo stated. He stood up to leave.

"That's good," Zachary replied. He sighed in relief.

"Make sure it's a hotel where you can't easily be traced. I would hate to see the career of a talented player like you end prematurely."

"I understand," Kasongo smiled.

"I have already paid the bill. You should cut down on how much you eat. It'll be hard for you to perform if you get a heartburn tomorrow." He added.

Zachary nodded but continued stuffing salads into his mouth.

"It was nice meeting you. See you tomorrow at the trials." Kasongo added after hearing no reply from Zachary for a while.

"See you." Zachary waved. He would have plenty of time to talk to Kasongo the following day. Now that Paul's case was close to being resolved, he could return his attention to what was most important, food.

10 The Crucial Day I

Twilight had just melted away. Gone was the open blue sky that had blessed the previous day. Above lay an unbroken layer of white and grey, brilliant where the sunshine broke through and dark where it didn't.

"It may rain in a few hours," Zachary intoned as he withdrew his gaze from the sky.

"What are you worried about." Kasongo gave a slight smile and said, "We'll be done with the trials by then. The scouts will only stay here a few hours."

They were at the center of the pitch amongst the 26 other players that had passed the physical fitness test the previous day. It was already 8 AM. Every single player on the field had already donned their soccer attire. They were only waiting for the arrival of Coach Damata and his team to start the official soccer trials. Zachary wasn't bored since he was accompanied by his new friend.

"That makes sense," Zachary concurred as he took a look around the stadium. "Are you sure the scouts will be coming today?" He inquired, creasing his brows. There were no coaches or scouts to be seen anywhere on the field or in the stands. He was beginning to think he had misheard the actual date of the trials.

"Relax," Kasongo stated confidently. "They'll be here. I'm sure," he laughed.

"I forgot to ask," Zachary intoned, locking gazes with Kasongo. "Did you move out of the hotel yesterday?"

"Of course," Kasongo patted his chest. "I have already moved into the Rabi Hotel," he said, looking pleased with himself.

"What the f*k!" Zachary's eyes widened. "What difference is there between the Rabi and Hollybum hotels?" He yelled, attracting a few gazes from the surrounding players.

"One is named Rabi, the other Hollybum," Kasongo replied seriously, counting on his fingers to emphasize his point.

"For Christ's sake," Zachary took a few steps towards the short guy. "How many four-star hotels are in Lubumbashi? Your father only has to check those that charge more than 100$ a night to find you. Can't you see that?"

"That is indeed true," Kasongo blanched. "I'll move to a different one after the matches conclude today," he assured.

"Forget it, man," Zachary sighed. "I'll help you select a hotel after the trials. I don't understand why I'm even helping you." He grumbled. He didn't want to see a talented player die prematurely.

"Thank you," Kasongo laughed. "From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were an honorable person. What can I do to repay you? Should I link you to my sister? She is cute." Kasongo whispered.

"If she is as short as you, don't bother," Zachary harrumphed.

He was about to continue his conversation with Kasongo when he heard a few players on the field yelling. "The coaches are here. The coaches are here..." They sounded like kindergarten kids that had just seen an ice cream truck.

Zachary ignored the excitement around him and turned towards the gate of the stadium. Coach Damata was leading a group of about 50 people towards the stands of the stadium.

He noticed that there were about twenty Caucasians in the crowd. They wore sunglasses and large hats to shield themselves from the non-existent sun. That was what he assumed. There was also an aged man and a young girl, not much older than himself, among them. The rest seemed to be fellow Congolese, possibly from the teams in the Linafoot National League. He could recognize a few from Lubumbashi Sport and Racing Club de Kinshasa. All the scouts he had been expecting were finally here. His mood lifted.

"I told you they would be here," Kasongo's voice sounded from behind him.

"Are they all from the ADTA?" Zachary asked. The African Development Talent Agency was the organization that usually sponsored students to the French and Belgian academies.

"Of course not," Kasongo intoned. "These are scouts from the sponsoring organizations behind the ADTA. Some are even from the actual academies in France."

"You better perform your best today," Kasongo warned. "I don't think they will return here after today."

"Are you sure," Zachary creased his brows. "Where did you get all this information?"

"I have reliable sources. My info is completely legit." Kasongo smiled.

"All right." Zachary was excited. He felt rejuvenated after the hearty meal he had had the previous day.

"Be sharp," Kasongo whispered.

After Damata led the group of scouts to the stands, he jogged to the pitch together with his fellow coaches.

The scouts were all seated close to the running tracks of the stadium. The Caucasians amongst them held very high tech cameras. Some had binoculars and notebooks. The African scouts, on the other hand, had their arms folded over their chests, with stern expressions on their faces. They looked like they were ready to punch someone. They carried no equipment whatsoever to keep track of the players on the field.

In seats at the very bottom of the stands, a young blonde girl holding an overly long Nikon camera was conversing with an aged man, also a scout.

"Grandpa," she began. "Why did we come here. Do you know of any world-class talents here? We should have traveled to either Nigeria, Cameroon, or Egypt. At least, they've been winning the African Cup of Nations. I think we're wasting our time here."

"Kristin," the old man smiled. "Remember, if you want to become a good scout, never overlook any place. Sometimes, real gems are concealed in obscure places. All we have to do is unearth them." He lectured.

"Will we really find someone talented here?" Kristin inquired. "Because if we don't, the other shareholders will push you out this time around."

"Don't worry," the old man replied. "One of the coaches is a friend of mine. He already informed me that there are two or three promising talents here. The only challenge will be snatching them from the French teams."

"Two to three talents?" Kristin frowned. "Do you have a file on them, grandpa? Why haven't I heard anything about this?"

"Well, here you go," the old man handed two files to the girl. "You haven't been around for the past two days. While you were touring the game parks and watching buffalos and chimpanzees, I was busy doing my job."

"Don't bring up the topic again, grandpa," Kristin implored. "How can you travel to Africa and leave without seeing the wildlife? You missed out on all the fun."

She opened the files about the players.

"Stephen Mangala, Zachary Bemba, and Paul Kasongo?" She spoke softly, lisping slightly. The African surnames were difficult to pronounce. "There's basically no information about them in the file!" She looked towards the old man by her side.

He spread out his arms. "Welcome to Africa," he smiled. "Information about young players here is non-existent. We'll see just how good they are from their performance in the match."

After the coaches returned to the pitch, they led the twenty-six players through light warm-ups before anything else. Everyone stretched and ran short distances to warm their muscles. When they finished the exercises, they returned to the center of the field to listen to instructions from the coaching staff.

"A good morning to you all," Coach Damata greeted, smiling.

"Good morning, Coach Damata," the voices of the players boomed in a chorus, returning the salutation. They all seemed enthused by the presence of the scouts in the stands.

"I see you're all on time," Damata grinned. "Keep up the good spirit of sportsmanship," he urged solemnly before continuing.

"We will begin a trial match shortly. We've grouped you into two teams that will face off."

"Please note the match will only last sixty minutes. So, you will get less than forty minutes to impress the scouts if we factor in time for substitutions. Try to do your best within that timeframe." He concluded.

The coaches had already separated the players into the green and red teams. Coach Mande laid down the charts with team formations on the running track, giving a chance to the players to learn their positions before heading to the pitch to commence the match. Zachary squeezed through the crowd of players to glance at the team charts.

-GREEN TEAM (4-4-2, Diamond.)

Goalkeeper; No. 1, Jackson Lunanga.

Right-Back; No. 2, Yannick Bangala. Left-Back; No. 3, Daniel Kidinda.

Center-Backs; No. 4, Nike Kabanga. No. 5, Samba Farouk.

Defensive-Midfielder; No. 6, Wagaluka Francis.

Attacking-Midfielder; No. 8, Paul-José Mpoku.

Left-Winger; No.11, Joel Ngandu. Right-Winger; No. 7, Edo Kayembe.

Forwards; No. 9, Stephen Mangala. No. 10, Ben Malango.

{*Subs; Leonard Busibwe, Dan Lusaka.}

-RED TEAM (4-4-2, Diamond.)

Goalkeeper; No. 1, Samuel Baraka.

Right-Back; No. 2, Awax Bondeko. Left-Back; No. 3, Patrick Luamba.

Center-Backs; No. 4, Miché Mika. No. 5, Frederic Luamba.

Defensive-Midfielder; No. 6, Chris Luyinda.

Attacking-Midfielder; No. 8, Zachary Bemba.

Left-Winger; No.11, Tony Majembe. Right-Winger; No. 7, Paul Kasongo.

Forwards; No. 9, Beni Badibanga. No. 10. Emmanuel Luboya.

{*Subs; Mpoyi Mohamed, Nathan Tambwe.}

Zachary sighed in relief after seeing the match formation charts.

The coaches seemed to have created the line-ups basing on the historical data of the players. Zachary was on the red team together with the likes of Paul Kasongo, Chris Luyinda, and his former friends, Tony and Patrick. The other side had most of the would-be superstars from his previous life. Joel Ngandu, Ngonda Mzinga, Stephen Mangala, and several others were all on the red team.

He had been placed in the number eight position, just behind the strikers, by the coaches. The number eight suited him well since it involved distributing through passes and deadly assists to the strikers. His Zinedine-Visual-Juju would come in handy in that position.

Paul Kasongo was on the right-wing, whereas Luyinda was a number six in the defensive midfielder position. Tony would be attacking from the left-wing with Patrick stationed behind him as a left-back. The rest of the players in green bibs were too obscure for Zachary to recall.

Zachary's red team appeared weak on paper. However, he wasn't going to let any obstacle come between him and a soccer academy recruitment. He was ready to do his best during the match.

"Come collect your bibs and head to the pitch," Zachary heard Coach Mande yelling from the sidelines. "The substitutes should also come here. They'll get a chance to play later in the match."

All the players hurriedly rushed towards Coach Mande. They picked up their bibs before positioning themselves on the pitch in the 4-4-2 diamond formation. Coachability and following instructions were some of the required qualities in soccer. So, all the players arrayed themselves properly in their assigned positions, waiting for the whistle.

Thank you for reading. Please remember to vote as the book will now join the rankings. Just a few things:

- Here is a link for a discord channel created specifically for the book. https/discord.gg/HUZyQcpecN

NB: All the squads in chapters with soccer matches will be posted there starting from the next chapter (also comming out today). If you can't understand the team formations, player profiles, etc, we can communicate there. Feedback is also highly welcomed in the channel. Pls. do check it out.

And Enjoy.

11 The Crucial Day II

A few minutes to 9:00 am.

Coach Mande looked at his watch before signaling for the teams to take their positions. All the players on the pitch, including Zachary, were waiting for his whistle to kick-off the game. It was the moment of truth that would define their destinies. Everyone was tense.

Coach Mande had chosen the red-team to kick off the game. Emanuel Luboya and Beni Badibanga were already standing in the center circle next to the ball.

Most of the scouts had already begun abandoning their seats in the stands. They had started moving closer to the touchline to get a better view of the proceedings. Most were adjusting their cameras to face the field to capture the moments of the match.

Coach Mande looked at his watch again before looking towards Damata on the sideline. The latter nodded.

*FWEEEEEEE!*

Kick-off!

Emanuel passed the ball to Beni Badibanga and rushed forward into the other half without looking back.

"Beni, pass here," Zachary called out to Beni after seeing him looking around for a teammate to pass the ball. He was unmarked and ready to receive the ball. The latter ignored him and kicked it towards Tony Majembe in the left-wing.

That was when Edo Kayembe, the right-winger of the team in green bibs, came sliding in with a tackle. He won the ball fair and square and instantly hammered it to Wagaluka Francis in the midfield.

Wagaluka beautifully controlled the ball and skipped past Beni who was already tightly marking him.

He looked up and kicked the ball high, sending a long pass towards the swift Stephen Mangala who was rushing towards the box in the red team's half.

Zachary and his teammates did not even react as Mangala received the ball just outside the 18-yard-box. Only Fredric Luamba stood between him and the goalkeeper.

Without looking up, he drilled a powerful shot towards the bottom left corner, forcing Samuel Baraka to pull off a brilliant save. The green team had a corner.

The red team was already under pressure due to Beni Badibanga's poor judgment in the first minute. He had chosen to pass to Tony, who was tightly marked by an opponent, instead of Zachary. As a result, the red team had lost the ball and almost conceded a goal.

"Beni," Zachary called out to the number-9. "Why did you not pass to me? He intoned as they ran back to their half to defend against the corner.

"Piss off," the striker scowled. "I'll play my game, and you play yours. Don't get in my way." He added before increasing his pace.

"Young kids." Zachary sighed.

The green team took the corner quickly, but nothing came of it.

For the next ten minutes, the game continued in favor of the green team. The boys in green dominated the midfield and had the majority of the ball possession.

Both Wagaluka and Paul-José Mpoku had already set Mangala loose three times in the red team's penalty box. Their deadly through balls could have easily turned into goals if not for the brilliant performance of Baraka, the goalkeeper.

Zachary already had a clear picture of what was wrong with his red team. His high game-intelligence enabled him to deduce that some of the players were choosing to isolate him. They were not giving him any passes. Since he was the midfielder responsible for building up all the attacks, his teammates' behavior was proving costly.

In his previous life, he had faced similar isolation during matches in soccer trials. Such matches were extremely competitive making it difficult for players to show off their skills. The main reason for this was the fact that players on the same team were still competing with each other. They all sought the attention of the scouts or coaches in attendance. Players would be less inclined to pass the ball to teammates who they viewed as competition. But what surprised Zachary was the appearance of such behavior in trials involving teenagers.

[Where is the spirit of sportsmanship?] He wondered.

His red team was already facing another attacking threat from Mangala and his green team. Zachary had resolved to move further back and counter the pressure mounted by the opponents.

But in the twenty-fifth minute of the first half, Chris Luyinda made a rough challenge on the ferocious Edo Kayembe at the right side out of the penalty box. Coach Mande blew his whistle for a foul and awarded a free-kick to the green team.

"What are all of you doing over there?" Luyinda shouted at his teammates. "Put up a wall and defend."

The red team players did not mind Luyinda's rudeness and quietly put up a wall to defend the free-kick. Even Zachary, who had been denied any passes since the match began, joined the wall of players.

Coach Mande blew the whistle, signaling the green team to take the free-kick.

Edo Kayembe, the number-7, sent a superb cross into the box where Mangala was lurking. The boy prodigy latched on to it, and from around the penalty spot, he planted a header past Samuel Baraka. The ball bounced off the bottom of the left post before sliding into the back of the net. Mangala had displayed his eye for the goal.

The score was 1:0.

Zachary stood with his arms akimbo, watching the others. The red players all had dejected expressions with their shoulders slumped. He saw some of the scouts on the sidelines nodding to themselves as they eyed Mangala.

[So this is how Mangala got to Europe in my previous life.] Zachary sighed. He was sure that the boy would be recruited by one of the academies after the match. He was about to say some encouraging words to his teammates but was interrupted by Chris Luyinda.

"You useless joke of an attacking midfielder," he intoned, pointing his forefinger at Bemba. "They have taken over the whole midfield! What're you doing?" He queried.

"Our strikers don't have even a single chance at goal. Why are the coaches not substituting an idiot like you?" He continued.

"Watch it, man," Zachary intoned, moving closer to face off with Luyinda. "You haven't been passing the ball to me. What do you expect me to do?" He questioned angrily.

*FWEEEEEE!*

As their argument was beginning to pick up, Coach Mande blew his whistle.

"Anything the problem," he asked, running towards them.

"No." Both Zachary and Luyinda responded at the same time. They jumped away from each other like scared rabbits that had seen a lion.

"Both of you! Go to the bench and cool down." Coach Mande bellowed, creasing his brows. "Hurry up. We need to give a chance to those who take the trials seriously."

"One has been substituted," Kristin observed as she placed down her camera. "Are you sure that Zachary is a talent? He has had zero impact on the match, so far!" She frowned.

"I beg to defer," the old man smiled, sitting back down. Unlike the other scouts who had moved to the tracks, they were still seated within the pavilion.

"Have you noticed that the other players on his team have been isolating him?" The grandpa asked.

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"In trial matches, players will only isolate their teammates in two scenarios," the grandpa opined. "One is when the player is too good and able to overshadow the others and reduce their chances of catching a scout's eye. The other is when the player lacks skills and will waste the team's chances."

"My dear Kristin," the grandpa smiled. "Under which category do you think Zachary falls?" He asked.

Kristin couldn't help but raise her camera to observe the player who was ambling dejectedly out of the pitch. He was a bit buff and tall for his age, close to five-nine by her estimations.

His crew-cut hair that was midnight black matched his dark brown eyes, framed by graceful dark brows. He had prominent cheekbones, a well-defined chin, and a nose that made him slightly handsome. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. Kristin observed that his skin was a lighter shade of chocolate brown. She thought that he would grow up into a handsome man in the future. But could he also grow into a talented player? That was the question that occupied her mind.

"I can't tell at the moment," she replied. "I will evaluate Zachary's talent only when he performs on the pitch." She added, gently placing down her camera.

"We won't be able to snatch the Mangala boy from the French clubs," the old man stated. "They have deeper coffers than our tiny Norwegian clubs. So, we should start looking at the players they fail to notice."

"Like Zachary and Paul?" Kristin queried, opening the file once again.

"Yes, like them," the old man smiled. "It's good for us that Zachary isn't performing well. Otherwise, he would also be whisked away."

"You're an evil old man," Kristin jested, smiling.

"Gotta be to succeed in this business," the grandpa chortled before focusing on the match once again.

Zachary's moved back to the sidelines with shoulders slumped and his eyes cast down in a mournful gaze. His mouth was set in a semi-pout. He imagined himself bashing the face of Luyinda when he replayed the moment when Coach Mande had sent him off the pitch. He felt distraught. There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to hope for, nothing left but the void that enveloped his mind in swirling blackness. Everything he had worked so hard to achieve was about to go up in smoke.

He dejectedly sat down on the sidelines.

[Why did I have to square off with Luyinda on such a day?]

[Why? Why?]

Before the match, he thought that he was already in perfect control of his emotions, unlike in his previous life. But he had easily flared up after a slight provocation from Luyinda.

He heard the sounds of cheering and raised his head only to find that the boy prodigy Mangala had just scored another goal. It was 2:0 just before half time.

"DING"

The system interface popped up by its self.

G.O.A.T MISSIONS

#NEW MISSION: Lubumbashi soccer trials (serial missions)

*Task 2: Help your red team clinch victory over the green team.

*Task 3: Catch the eye of a soccer academy official or a club scout.

*Rewards:

-Snooping tool to be unlocked (Will tell you everything about your opponent. Only related to soccer.)

*Punishment in case of failure:

-The G.O.A.T system will go offline for a year.

*Remarks: A G.O.A.T never gives up.

[What the F*k!?]

"How does it expect me to achieve all this when I have already been suspended from the game?"

Zachary diverted his attention and wallowed in depression until the half-time whistle sounded. He stayed slumped on the sidelines until he was called over by Coach Damata minutes later.

"How're you feeling?" The coach asked when Zachary arrived by his side.

"Like I want to dive into the River Congo with a stone tied to my back," Zachary smiled ruefully.

"Hahaha," Damata laughed, attracting a few gazes from the scouts nearby. "That is so subtle. You should never think like that. There are various paths one can take to achieve something." He advised.

Zachary nodded. He glanced towards the pitch and noticed that the second half had already started. The score was still 2:0.

But Zachary was sure that the red team would concede more goals very soon. The boys in green, especially Mangala, Kayembe, and Wagaluka, were too ferocious. They were still pressuring their opponents in red within their half. Their tiki-taka football was too fast for Kasongo and the others to compete.

"The red team players have lost all motivation," Coach Damata commented nonchalantly. "You and Luyinda are the major cause of this," he added.

"I'm sorry, coach," Zachary pleaded.

"You know that temperament is one of the most important attributes of a sportsman. You will get nowhere if you can't rain in your emotions." Damata lectured.

Zachary waited silently. He noticed that one of the other coaches was also talking to Luyinda.

[Will they allow us back in?] His mood lifted. He would perform his best even if he was given just some fifteen minutes of match time. He just wanted to leave without regrets.

The next words of the coach instantly kicked him out of hell into heaven.

"I'll be giving you one more chance to impress the scouts," Coach Damata smiled. "Due to your previous behavior, many of them will shun you. But you never know. There may be one among them who might like the way you play." He added.

"Thank you, coach, for the opportunity," he bowed ceremoniously.

"Talk with Luyinda first. You two are teammates now and also the best midfielders the red team has. If you don't sort out your issues, both of you will never succeed." The coach advised.

"Okay, Coach," he said meekly. To succeed, he would do anything. Talking to the idiot was just a minor inconvenience compared to losing everything.

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12 The Crucial Day III

"Are you going back on the field too?" Luyinda asked once Zachary approached him. He had just finished his chat with the other coach. They were standing on the touchline, waiting to re-enter the pitch.

"What do you think?" Zachary asked, the corner of his mouth lifting.

"Shit," Luyinda cursed. "I can't believe I'm stuck with you today of all days," he snorted.

"Why were you isolating me during the game?" Zachary asked directly, locking eyes with the defensive midfielder. He wanted to resolve the conflict between them before they rejoined the match.

"Eh!" Surprise registered on Luyinda's face. It seemed he hadn't expected that question.

"I asked," Zachary emphasized. "Why were you not passing to me during the first half? We are in a trial match, not some backyard soccer."

"You were not creating any space to receive the passes," Luyinda stammered, taking a few steps away from Zachary.

"Seriously. What about that time when I was on your left with no green players around?" Zachary pointed out. He had been creating space for himself to receive the ball, but Luyinda always opted for long balls that cost the red team possession.

"Okay, okay.

Stop bothering me." Luyinda gibbered. He looked around to see if any of the coaches were looking at them. He surrendered when he noticed that Coach Damata's attention was on them.

"I'll pass to you when we are back in. But this doesn't mean we're friends. God! I hope this is the last time we play on the same team." He whispered.

[What did I ever do to him?] Zachary wondered but said, "Suit yourself. As long as you pass me the ball, everything will be fine. Remember, we have less than twenty minutes to turn this around." He emphasized.

Luyinda did not reply. He continued silently observing the match.

Zachary did not bother him anymore. His main goal was to impress scouts not making friends.

A minute later, Coach Mande blew the whistle and invited them back into the pitch.

"Luyinda," Zachary called out to the number-6. "Don't forget your promise," he intoned before jogging confidently into the pitch. Luyinda nodded and followed.

"You're back," Kasongo ran to him excitedly as soon as he positioned himself in the center circle.

"Kasongo," Zachary bumped fists with the short winger. "We need to win this game to have any chance of impressing the scouts. So, be sharp. Go back to your number and wait for my passes."

"Okay," Kasongo replied and ran back to the right-wing. He could see the seriousness on Zachary's face and simply did as instructed.

Zachary started observing the positioning of every player on the pitch. The body language of both his opponents and teammates was captured in great detail in his mind.

Samuel Baraka, the goalkeeper of the red team, was still fetching the ball to restart gameplay. The ball had gone outside after Kayembe missed a shot on goal.

In the other half, he noticed that the face of Emanuel Luboya, his team's striker, still glinted with a hunger for the game. He was eagerly waiting for the ball deep in the green team's half. The striker hadn't given up yet. Zachary was relieved.

For the first time that day, he noted that there were gaps in the opponent's formation. He could see a lot of space between the green team's midfield and defenders that could potentially be exploited by his team. His A spatial awareness was already doing wonders.

[The opponents have relaxed. Let's play.] Zachary smiled. He turned around to receive the ball from the goalkeeper.

Baraka quickly took the goal kick. He whipped the ball towards Beni Badibanga deep in the green team's half. Nike Kabanga, the number-5 of the green team, jumped high in the air and headed the ball back to the other half. He had won a header against Beni, the number-9 in red, once again.

Luyinda controlled the ball on his chest and immediately passed it to Zachary without even looking up.

Zachary sighed in relief when he saw the ball rolling towards him. He was more confident as his isolation from his teammates seemed to have come to an end.

He controlled the ball beautifully with his left foot before turning and dashing towards the green team's half. He had already lost Francis Wagaluka, the player responsible for marking him. He had a few yards to run freely with the ball since no one was close to him.

Zachary sprinted at his fastest speed and penetrated deep into the opponent's half in just seconds. As he moved with the ball, he looked towards Emanuel Luboya, the center forward, dashing towards the right side of the opponent's 18-yard-box. He seemed to be drawing the attention of the defenders in green away from Beni on the right.

On looking closer, Zachary noticed two shadows flash out of the striker's body. One continued running towards the right side of the goal while the second headed to the left. Zachary was perplexed.

However, he had no time to deliberate so he quickly whipped the ball towards the second shadow that had rushed out of the tall striker towards the left. That was the space the center-backs in green had neglected. Both Nike Kabanga and Samba Farouk were marking Beni Babidanga tightly on the right side.

Zachary hoped the forwards would interpret his intentions and make use of the pass. He knew this had a low chance of happening since the strikers had never trained or played with him until that day.

But surprisingly, he noticed that Emanuel Luboya had diverted his running route the moment Zachary released the looped pass over the defenders. Luboya sprinted with great vigor towards the left side of the goal. He followed in the exact footsteps of the shadow that had appeared to flash out of his body.

The striker collected the pass inside the box and unleashed a shot that was brilliantly blocked by an outstretched leg of Jackson Lunanga, the goalkeeper. The referee signaled to the corner flag.

The red team had earned their first attempt on goal for the day. Luboya was holding his head between his hands in regret at having missed a goal-scoring opportunity.

[The shadows rushing out of Luboya must have been a manifestation of the Zinedine-Visual-Juju.] Zachary speculated.

"That was a good ball," Lunanga commented as Zachary arrived in the green team's penalty box to attack the corner ball.

"Don't worry about the missed opportunity," Zachary consoled the striker. "I'll send you more balls like those. Make sure you score." He smiled, patting the tall guy's back.

"I say you won't get any more opportunities to do anything. I'll be marking you." A new voice sounded from behind them. Zachary turned back only to find Mangala standing behind him, with arms akimbo. The shady smile on his pristine face made him appear all too arrogant, like a Casanova.

Zachary frowned but ignored the lanky boy. He didn't want a conflict with anyone else that day. He had already learned his lesson. The corner-kick that Kasongo was about to take was the only thing on his mind.

Suddenly, he had another vision.

A shadow in the shape of a ball came floating towards the box from the corner flag. It was headed away by a different shadow from one of the opposing players and split into three balls. Two of them zoomed towards the right and left sides, outside of the box. However, the last went right through the middle.

[Another Zinedine-Visual-Juju vision.]

Zachary was excited as he noticed that Kasongo was finally taking the corner.

He stealthily started moving away from Mangala who was marking him. When the ball was close to reaching its highest point, he dashed outside the eighteen-yard-box. He positioned himself before the arc and waited for the ball. He had put his chances on the ball shadow passing through the center in the Zinedine-Visual-Juju.

Mangala first frowned when he noticed his actions. However, he just smiled and ignored Zachary after seeing the floating ball from the corner. Kasongo had delivered an imprecise corner kick that was easily headed away by Wagaluka.

Zachary, stationed just outside the box, noticed the ball flying towards him.

[BINGO!] He thought. He had won the bet on where the ball would be heading.

He focused on the incoming ball and unleashed a missile of a shot towards the goal. He had caught the ball on the volley with the outside of his boot.

"BAM!"

The ball surprised everyone, including the goalkeeper. The long-range shot whooshed towards the top-right corner of the goalposts, unobstructed. 2:1. The red team had pulled one back.

The tables were beginning to turn.

Zachary did not celebrate his goal. He ran and picked the ball from the green team's net and returned it to the center circle of the pitch. Only fifteen minutes were remaining till the end of the match. He couldn't spare time for pointless celebrations. He would lose a lot if he didn't win this match.

Coach Mande blew the whistle and restarted the game.

For the next five minutes, the red team dominated the game. The return of Zachary and Luyinda had boosted their strength.

The two tackled, intercepted, and released passes to the strikers every few minutes. They were dominating the midfield.

Mangala tried to mark Zachary but failed. He was an agile player, used to running and dribbling past defenders. He couldn't manage a physical confrontation in the midfield with Zachary who was tall and muscular. So, he returned to his number-9 position, defeated after a few minutes of trying.

On the other hand, Zachary continued seeing shadows flashing across the pitch every once in a while. Some came from balls and others from players. He had confirmed that they were manifestations of some sort of predictive ability granted by the Zinedine-Visual-Juju. They increased his spatial awareness whenever he passed and intercepted balls during the match. They had helped him trace the ball's trajectory when he scored the goal.

However, there were also chances of making a wrong prediction. Zachary had found this out after distributing a pass to Kasongo making a run into the box. The real Kasongo headed in a different direction and followed the route taken by another one of his shadows. This was the case even after factoring in the positioning of the opponents and his teammates.

In the twentieth minute of the second half, the green team managed to find their rhythm once again. Kayembe, the winger, delivered a teasing cross into the box of the red team.

The cross found Mangala, who controlled it well and lashed the ball towards the bottom right corner. Samuel Baraka, the goalkeeper, was alert and pulled off a brilliant diving save. Coach Mande blew his whistle and awarded the green team a corner kick.

Mangala and his teammates had a chance to widen the lead. All the players of the red team, including the strikers, rushed back to their box to defend. The green team's defenders followed them.

Zachary observed their actions before calling Kasongo over. He whispered a few instructions in his ear before dismissing him back to the edge of the box.

The keeper, Baraka, defended the corner ball that had come in low. He punched it towards the sidelines where Zachary had been waiting.

Zachary had successfully predicted where the ball would end up and moved into position in advance. He controlled the ball beautifully and sprinted off towards the opponent's half at his best speed. Francis Wagaluka came to intercept with a sliding tackle. Zachary skipped over it and passed the ball to Kasongo, running in sync with him through the middle of the pitch.

The counterattack was on.

Edo Kayembe used his swift pace to catch up with Kasongo and pulled on his shirt. He intended to commit a professional foul and stop the counterattack. However, Kasongo did not falter. He stayed firm on his feet until he hammered the ball towards Zachary, already into the opponent's half and close to the touchline. There were no players between him and the goalkeeper. All the defenders were still running from the opposite half.

Coach Mande, the referee, waved an advantage-play even after Kayembe pulled Kasongo to the ground.

Zachary produced a stunning solo run from the middle of the pitch to the penalty area. He lashed the ball into the bottom left corner, giving Jackson Lunanga, the keeper, no chance. Goal.

With eight minutes to go, the score was level at 2:2.

"You were right, grandpa," Kristin begun. "Zachary is all over the pitch now. His ability to control the game and pass the ball is simply unmatched. Every scout will want a playmaker like him." Kristin commented dejectedly. She sighed while watching the players in red bibs celebrating quickly and rushing back to their half. They seemed eager to resume the match.

The grandpa remained silent with his eyes fixed on the pitch.

"Grandpa," Kristin crooned, pocking the old man's shoulder with her slender finger.

"I hear you, Kristin," the old man replied. He turned to face his granddaughter.

"We have to get him by all means," He intoned. "I'll talk to the coach who's a friend of mine. Don't worry."

"Why does your file say that he's more of a slow-paced player who's good at doing the team's dirty work," Kristin inquired, frowning. She opened the player file for the umpteenth time that day.

"You're asking me! Who should I ask?" The grandpa spread out his arms.

Thanks for reading. Pls. Vote, Comment, and Review. Enjoy the chapter. Discord link for book: https/discord.gg/kf4Jx2ANXt

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13 The Trial Match Ends

The match resumed after Coach Mande blew the whistle.

Zachary and his teammates in red marked the forwards of the green team immediately after gameplay resumed. The midfielders in green bibs like Wagaluka and Mpoku had no option but to pass the ball back to their defenders.

Zachary's red team was pressing their opponents within their half.

At some point, droplets of rain had started falling from the sky. Most of the scouts returned to the pavilion to find shelter from the drizzle. But, a few remained close to the pitch, intently watching the match.

Coach Damata, on the sideline, was speaking with Mr. Benard Christophe, the head scout of FC Nantes Youth Academy. He was responsible for deciding the results of the ADTA trials in Lubumbashi. The other French officials in the delegation had merely come to earn some per diem and sightsee in Africa. Only a few like Mr. Benard were intently watching out for young potential recruits in the trials.

"That Mangala boy is good," Christophe began. "As you mentioned before, his dribbling and finishing skills are impeccable," he added, his eyes never leaving the pitch. He didn't seem to mind the rain one bit.

Stephen Mangala had just dribbled past Awax Bondeko, the right-back of the red team. He dashed into the box and unleashed a low shot which was saved by Baraka, the keeper. The boy prodigy seemed to be the only one still alive on the green team.

Coach Damata creased his brows before replying. "What about the Zachary boy. He is the tall guy in the number-8 position of the red team." He pointed towards Bemba's position on the pitch.

Christophe frowned, looking towards Zachary. "I see that he's a skilled distributor of the ball," he observed. "But we already have many such boys at the academy. His imposing physique is an advantage over those at the same age. What do you think will happen in the future when the others mature into stronger players?" He queried.

"I choose to go with the Mangala boy. Kayembe, the winger of the green team, is also an option." He intoned.

"Our scouts have been observing Zachary since he was twelve, and I assure you that he's a talented young man," Coach Damata argued. "His game intelligence is at another level. That, coupled with his strong body, makes him a good product to shape into a professional center-back or a midfielder."

Damata, as a local coach, wanted to see several young Congolese talents joining the French youth academies. That way, DR Congo would perform better in future international competitions.

"My dear coach," Christophe said, squinting up at the African in the slight drizzle. Damata knew that his efforts to forward the young talent to the Nantes Academy had met a roadblock.

"Do you doubt my vision? Do you think we would be here in this backwater if it wasn't for the sponsorship from the ADTA?" Christophe smirked.

"We promised to select about four players from the trials. Be satisfied with that. We have gathered enough information about the Zachary boy to make a decision." The left side of his red lip tugged upwards, creating a sort of sinister smirk on his aged face.

Damata remained silent for a while, watching the proceedings of the match before asking, "Mr. Benard, aren't you watching the match?" Damata questioned, pointing towards the pitch.

Zachary had just released another through pass to Emanuel Luboya. The tall striker braced himself and unleashed a mid-range shot that went just over the crossbar. The green team had a goal kick.

"We know that your boy had his left foot wasted in an accident," Mr. Benard intoned, gently shaking his head.

"What?" Coach Damata frowned. He had heard about Zachary's accident from one of the TP Mazembe scouts. But, it didn't seem to be anything serious. The French scout's focus on such an unimportant detail bugged him.

"We wouldn't take anyone prone to injuries, no matter how talented they are. The boy having his ankle ligaments torn ended his path to becoming a professional soccer player." Mr. Benard stated.

"Can't you give him a chance by letting him take a medical?" Damata pleaded. "Players do get hurt, but they heal and return to the pitch."

"Enough," Christophe frowned. "We have already done enough background investigations to decide his fate. We even went to the CMC community hospital, where the boy was formerly admitted after his accident, to verify the details. From the x-rays, we all concluded that his left foot is a goner." The scout added before focusing his attention back on the match.

"You African coaches are all the same," Coach Damata heard him mumble in a voice just enough for him to discern. "You never try to check the background information about the players. All you do is sign finished products when they play a good game or show some skill in one of your trials. You never research chronic injuries, background, family history, or how these factors might affect the career of a player. All you do is end up wasting valuable resources on players that will never make it. That is a weakness of the African soccer talent development system." The scout sighed, shaking his head.

"We do have players who have recovered from such injuries even at the international level," Damata argued.

"That is the case of one time in a million," Christophe interrupted. "Those are usually rich players with access to the best doctors in the world. Their clubs give them access to the right medical treatment immediately after they get injured. What did you do for a potential young talent after he suffered an injury? You left him to tend to his wounds without any support in a hospital." Christophe scowled, his voice turning dramatic towards the end.

He spread out his arms and asked, "Coach Damata, what did you expect to happen?"

A grin spread over his face, wide and open, showing his over-whitened teeth. At that moment, his motives were laid bare; he was a mocker, one who enjoyed tormenting others. That was Damata's conclusion.

He left the scout to his own devices and started thinking about how to help the boy.

Zachary was unaware of the discussion taking place between the coach and the scout. The only thing on his mind was winning the game.

It was still a stalemate. Two minutes remained to the end of the game, with the score still 2:2.

Both Mpoku and Wagaluka were double-teaming Zachary to stop him from distributing any passes to the red strikers and wingers.

He had been giving the forwards, Luboya and Beni, several deadly through passes. However, they had failed to convert them into goals.

[I cannot lose right now.] He resolved.

The others were all about individual performance and did not care much about the result of the game. They only wanted to catch the attention of the scouts, nothing more. But, Zachary had much more to lose since the system would go offline for a year if he lost the match. He could not afford to pay that price.

He started surveying the pitch for any openings he could exploit. The ball was still being passed around by the defenders of his team in red bibs, steadily advancing towards the centerline. He turned towards the opponent's half and instantly noticed something he had neglected.

[Maybe I can try that.]

He grinned before signaling to Kasongo and the strikers to rush to the other half.

Like a rugby player, he feigned forward movement but reversed directions and lost the two bodyguards (Wagaluka and Mpoku) that had been shadowing him for more than five minutes. They were reluctant to follow since he was running back to his half. They became even more confused when they saw the strikers and wingers jogging towards their goal, in the opposite direction.

"Here, pass here!" Zachary hollered out to Luyinda who had just received the ball.

Luyinda stayed true to his promise and instantly kicked the ball towards him. But, Wagaluka was on his heels right away, tackling him and trying to win the ball.

Zachary made a swift turn, pulling the ball with his right leg, and spun past the midfielder. He then accelerated and dashed off into the opponent's half, dribbling past Mpoku and Edo Kayembe along the way. Zachary found himself in space with no one marking him before stepping past the center circle and penetrating the other half. He noticed that the forwards in red, marked by the green team's defenders, were eagerly awaiting his pass just outside the green team's 18-yard-box.

"Mark him, tackle him," Zachary thought he heard Mangala yelling from behind him as he continued running with the ball. However, he ignored everything behind him and focused on the goalkeeper. Zachary had noticed that Jackson Lunanga tended to stray away from his line whenever the ball was at a distance from him. He intended to exploit that error.

From forty-five yards away, Zachary struck with his right leg, unleashing the ball on an arching path towards the goal.

[Please go in.] He prayed.

Everyone in the stadium watched the ball zoom over the other players towards the goal. They sighed at the impatience of the young player probably brought about by the approaching end of the match.

However, not everyone shared similar thoughts. Lunanga, the keeper of the green team, had started running back towards his goalposts the moment Zachary hit the ball. But, he could not make it in time. The ball floated over his bare head, into the back of the net: 3:2.

The red team had clinched a lead for the first time that day.

The whole stadium was silent.

The spectators turned white as chalk as their faces froze in expressions of stunned surprise. Although they were staring straight at Zachary, they appeared not to notice him at all.

"Shit!" Wagaluka swore from behind him. "What dog shit luck does Bemba have today?" He mumbled.

The din soon returned to the stadium as the people finally reacted, oohing and aahing at the spectacular goal.

But on the sidelines, Christophe sighed. "What a pity. He would have grown into a good player." He shook his head and returned his attention to the match.

The goal seemed to have set off a spark in the green team's ranks. Mangala, Wagaluka, and Kayembe all attacked like there was no tomorrow for the next minute. However, Zachary's red team held out until the final whistle, with Baraka making two more spectacular saves.

3:2 was the final score.

"Zachary, man," Kasongo ran up to him after Coach Mande blew the whistle. "That was quite the show. There's no doubt you'll be selected by the scouts." He stated, smiling.

Baraka and some of his other teammates also came along and celebrated with him for a while. Even Luyinda bumped fists with him for the first time in their history, spanning two lives.

[This is soccer. A game that should build unity among teammates rather than hatred.] He smiled as he soaked in the praises from his teammates. He felt accomplished.

"Next time, I won't lose," a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

Zachary turned around and found the boy prodigy, Mangala, standing behind him. A smirk grew over his face like a lazy teacher's checkmark, the faded "red ink" stretching up into his dimple.

"Are you sure?" Zachary grinned.

"Yes."

"I'll be waiting."

Coach Damata hurried away from the touchline towards the dressing room right after the final whistle. He felt dejection wash over him when Zachary scored the third goal.

All his efforts at convincing Mr. Christophe Benard to give Zachary a chance had proven futile. A talented player was about to be neglected by a conservative scout due to an unverified latent injury.

He had to find another opportunity for the boy before things went wrong as they usually did in Congo. He could see Zachary becoming a pillar of the Leopards in international competitions a few years in the future.

"Excuse me, Coach Damata. Can we talk for a minute or two?" Damata heard a familiar hoarse but mellow voice from beside him. He turned back only to find an aged Caucasian man in a sunhat and a blonde girl standing behind him.

"Hahaha," Coach Damata laughed after seeing the Norwegian.

"Mr. Martin Stein, nice meeting you again," he said, extending his hand for a handshake. "I was about to come looking for you. I need a favor from you this time."

"Oh, same here," Mr. Stein smiled, shaking Damata's outstretched hand. "Can we talk in your office?" He said.

Thank you for reading. Pls vote, comment, and review. {Your activity is the greatest motivation.}

*RIP Diego Maradona* You were an inspiration to many talents around the world. Peace.

14 A Meeting with Scouts

"Stephen Mangala, Miché Mika, Edo Kayembe, and Samuel Baraka." Mr. Christophe Benard, the head scout of FC Nantes Youth Academy, closed his notebook. He had finished announcing the names of the four players selected for the French sports scholarship. "That'll be all. Good luck to the rest of you." He concluded.

"Eehh!" The rest of the players, including some of the coaches, exclaimed. They started stealing glances at Zachary who stood at the very back of the group. He had scored a hat-trick and played better than everyone else during the match. But, the scouts had left him out of the list of players heading to France.

However, everyone quickly forgot about the issue and returned their attention to Coach Damata who had returned to the center stage after the foreign scout left.

"Let's congratulate the four players who are leaving for France. They deserve to be applauded for their exceptional performance in today's game." Coach Damata intoned, smiling. He seemed to be in a good mood.

Most of the other players clapped half-heartedly. They were still lamenting the missed opportunity. However, a few had learned to accept rejection and failure. They were looking forward to the remaining days of the Lubumbashi trials. They still had the opportunity to impress scouts from the African teams looking for new talents.

"Okay people. That's the spirit." Coach Damata laughed. "I usually tell my students it is okay to fail. A lot of people are so afraid of failure that they skip trials like these. They end up joining the camp of those that don't think themselves capable of succeeding as professional soccer players." He paused, letting his gaze roam over all the young men gathered before him.

"You should be aware that many people attain their greatest success, just after their greatest failure. Not getting selected is merely a bump in your football career. Every failure in life is a stepping stone to greater heights. I am most proud of the blessings that God has bestowed upon me as a coach. He has given me the vision to see that you can still get back on your feet after falling. That belief has kept me going as a coach all my years."

"Will you lose all hope of achieving your dreams and join the failures after not being selected?" He asked. "Or, will you continue to pursue your dreams with newfound vigor after this momentary setback?"

Most of the young players responded positively to the inspirational words of the coach. They all longed to join professional teams and play soccer. Soccer was the only refuge in their war-torn nation.

The few that had looked dejected seemed to have gotten a new lease on life after hearing the coach's speech. They all had a glint in their eyes that indicated they had not given up.

"Then, I'm relieved." Coach Damata smiled. "You're dismissed for today. Come back tomorrow to continue the trials."

"Just remember, never give up."

Zachary remained standing at the back of the group even when the other players started dispersing. His world collapsed when the French scout announced the results. Pain circulated through his mind like waves on frigid sand.

[Why wasn't I selected? Was it because of my outburst during the first half?]

Several questions ran through his mind as he attempted to make sense of the scouts' decision. He could feel the eyes of the departing players on him. Some of them had pitiful expressions, whereas others looked on with mockery like their situation was any better. They seemed to have forgotten that they, too, had not been selected.

"Young man," he heard someone calling him from the side in a classic French accent that didn't belong in Africa. He turned around to find the head scout smiling at him.

"You're Zachary. Right?" Mr. Christophe Benard asked.

"Yes, that's me, sir," Zachary replied. He had no idea why the scout was initiating a conversation with him after leaving him out of the selection.

Zachary felt like punching the Frenchman in the face to relieve his mounting stress. However, he calmed himself after considering the repercussions. He didn't want to be blacklisted by all the scouts of the academies partaking in the Lubumbashi trials.

"I'll do you a favor, young man," the scout began solemnly. "With your injured foot, you'll never make it among the pros. Just give up and find something else to do before you injure yourself again. I hate to see a young man wallow in despair after investing all his time where he'll never succeed."

[Injured foot? Give up? Is this the reason for my not being on the list?] Zachary started connecting the dots. His mood lifted. His greatest fear had been being blacklisted by the international scouts due to his unsportsmanlike behavior in the first half. But the French teams only left him out due to a supposed injury. He couldn't help but smile ruefully.

"I have said all that can be said. Take care." Mr. Benard moved away and disappeared into the mass of scouts leaving the stadium.

[Did he come to tell me just that? What a busy buddy.] He scoffed.

"Zach!" Kasongo's voice called out to him. "What did he want? Were you selected?"

"No. Just telling me to give up on soccer." Zachary smiled, turning towards his new friend.

"Say what? Why?"

"He thinks I'm injured."

"Are you?" Kasongo frowned.

"Not at all. I'm as fit as a fiddle." Zachary smirked.

"Then ignore the idiot." Kasongo smiled, patting his shoulder. "We still have a chance tomorrow. I heard that scouts from Raja Casablanca and Orlando Pirates are also part of the delegation. So, don't worry. We'll be selected."

"I know." Zachary nodded. From the memories of his past life, he knew the Lubumbashi trials were far from over. A few more players would get a chance to join other foreign academies over the following few days. He simply had to perform his best to join their ranks.

"Are you really okay?" Kasongo asked after seeing him spacing out.

"I'm fine." Zachary sighed. He still felt some dejection at being overlooked. However, he understood he had to move on and prepare for the continuation of the trials the following day.

"Let's go. I'll help you select a hotel today."

"Great." Kasongo laughed, jumping up like a little kid. "I'll buy lunch," he said, patting Zachary's back.

They started trekking towards the gate of the stadium but were stopped by Coach Damata along the way.

"Thank God. I managed to catch up to you." The coach smiled as he approached them. He seemed to have run up to them since he was panting.

"I have good news," he said without giving them a chance to reply. "Kasongo, head over to Coach Mande. He'll explain a few things to you. Zachary, come with me. I want you to meet someone."

"I am guessing that one of the scouts must have taken a liking to you," Kasongo whispered before running away towards the pavilion.

"Oh." Zachary was excited. Hope bloomed inside him. He turned and followed the coach into the tunnel that led to the dressing rooms of the stadium.

They went through the dimly lit passage and reached Coach Damata's office at the far end of a corridor. The coach pushed the door open and invited him in.

On one of the wooden benches within, an aged man and a young blond girl sat, waiting quietly.

Zachary ignored the old fella. He couldn't take his eyes off the girl holding a camera from the moment he entered the office.

He had initially noticed the girl before the match as the delegation of scouts entered the stadium. He didn't pay much attention to her then since she seemed like one of those 'flat as a pancake' types.

But up close, she looked like one of those models with an hour-glass figure often seen in Telemundo soap operas. Her straight blonde hair plunged over her slender shoulders, making her look like a vogue-magazine cut-out dropped onto the streets of Lubumbashi.

"Hey, Zach? Nice to meet you." She stood up and walked up to him, extending a manicured hand. Her amber-brown eyes gazed playfully at him. They made his heart race like an inexperienced teenager that had met his crush for the first time.

Zachary had to drop his gaze in defeat before his mind was overtaken by inappropriate thoughts. His usual swagger, gained in his past life, had fled faster than a gambler from a bookie.

"Hey," Zachary stammered as he fumbled to take the slender hand of the girl. He realized he had taken too long to return her greeting. He looked at the floor to evade her gaze.

The old man suddenly cleared his throat to end the awkward situation. "I'm Martin Stein. This here is my granddaughter Kristin Stein. She's a scout in training. Nice to meet you." He also extended a hand towards Zachary for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you too." Zachary took the opportunity to escape and returned the salutation.

After exchanging greetings with the pair, he turned to Coach Damata for an explanation. He was beginning to grow tense under the scrutiny of the foreigners present in the office.

"These are scouts from the Norwegian Club Rosenborg BK," Coach Damata begun. "They are interested in recruiting you into one of the academies affiliated with them. Are you interested?" He smiled.

"Of course, I'm interested." Zachary was quick to answer. He would never pass up the chance to join a high-performance academy in Europe. As long as he was there, he could find a way to enter the European football system. Moreover, Rosenborg was one of the best teams in Norway and had a proper youth training system. They had even participated in European championships, playing against top teams like Chelsea and Valencia. He remembered betting some of their matches during his previous life.

"Hahaha, that's great. I like straightforward young men like you. And, it's good you speak perfect English, unlike most people here in the Congo. You'll find it easy to adapt to life in Norway." Mr. Stein laughed, taking off his sunhat. His deep wrinkles seemed to carve a map of his life on his still agile facial features. His bright blue eyes, framed by thick white eyebrows, glittered in the dim light along with his perfect set of dazzling teeth.

"Mr. Damata," he turned towards the coach, still standing by the door. "I would like to conclude this business before the end of today. Can you initiate the talent transfer procedures from Congo to Norway right away?"

"I can," Coach Damata replied, smiling. "But we need to engage Zachary's parents to kick-start the process."

[Parents?] Zachary's heart vibrated like a church drum in his chest.

"Oh, that's is understandable." Mr. Stein frowned. "Seems we won't conclude everything today. I even wanted to take him for a medical before we complete the transfer."

"We can still conclude if we manage to get in touch with the parents within two hours," Coach Damata assured before turning towards Zachary.

"Zach, can you contact your parents right away? We need them to sign the consent forms allowing you to travel to Norway."

Zachary sighed before replying, "I don't have any parents. I've been living with my grandma in Bukavu for as long as I can remember."

The other three in the room remained quiet after hearing Zachary's declaration. They regarded him with pity like he was a street kid. Zachary didn't like their stares.

"Oh," Coach Damata was fast to recover. "Can you get in touch with her? I mean your grandma." He asked, patting Zachary's shoulder.

"We both don't have phones," Zachary stated. "But, I can try getting in touch with a doctor who's our neighbor. Through him, we might reach her by the end of tomorrow." He sighed, beginning to regret not buying a pair of cheap phones for himself and his grandma.

The others in the room were rendered speechless for a few seconds by his statement. Kristin especially looked surprised by Zachary's circumstances.

"Don't worry about that," Coach Damata said confidently. "I'll help you complete the paperwork before the end of tomorrow." He patted Zachary's shoulder.

Thank you for reading. Please do write some reviews for the book. Don't forget to comment and vote. Gracias.

For those with suggestions, join the book discord server: https/discord.gg/7mNvAaTtkf

Enjoy.

15 Gearing-up for Norway

"Please, Kasongo," Zachary beseeched. He looked up at the sky, tinged orange by the slanting rays of the setting sun.

"Just ten more balls, and we'll go back to rest." He moved back and positioned himself just a few steps outside the arc of the 18-yard-box.

"But these better be the last," Kasongo replied. "The training has me worn out. I'm on the verge of collapsing. How do you manage to keep this up every evening?"

Zachary ignored the comment and signaled his friend to toss the ball.

Dusk had descended upon Lubumbashi. However, the boys were still in the Kibassa-Maliba stadium. They were doing personalized training.

Zachary was highly motivated since he was doing most of the shooting. Kasongo merely tossed balls to him.

"Ready," Kasongo hollered out. "Set, and go." He tossed another ball with his hands towards the arc outside the 18-yard-box.

Zachary focused on the incoming ball and swung his left foot, pulling the trigger. He caught the center-bottom half of the ball, sending it whooshing at a low angle into the back of the empty goal.

"Another!" Zachary shouted while running back to his original position.

Kasongo tossed another ball. Zachary hit it squarely and unleashed a carpet-shot that also found the target. For the next few minutes, Kasongo tossed balls while Zachary unleashed volleys that found the target.

"GOAL," Zachary jubilated after hitting the last ball accurately. He felt like he had scored in a major competition.

Three weeks had elapsed since the day of the trial match attended by the scouts. After being selected for a sports academy in Norway, Zachary had immediately begun working on his arrow-shot. He believed he would advance it into a G.O.A.T skill after the day's training. So, he opened the system interface to view his progress.

USER MENU

*USER STATS

*G.O.A.T MISSIONS

*SYSTEM SHOP (locked)

*SYSTEM LOTTERY (locked)

*SNOOPING TOOL

NB: Pls level-up the system to unlock more functions.

After helping his team win the trial match, the system rewarded Zachary by unlocking its snooping-tool-function capable of spying on the talents of others. However, using the tool had almost shocked him out of his boots. The day after the trials, he found out that Stephen Mangala, Edo Kayembe, and Miché Mika were all A-grade talents.

Zachary couldn't compete with the three of them in terms of talent alone. So, he upped his training routine after realizing he had accidentally unlocked another G.O.A.T skill when scoring the first goal in the trial match. If he couldn't beat them on talent, he resolved he would defeat them through hard work and skills.

Zachary calmed his mind and clicked on the G.O.A.T-skills tab in the User-Stats menu.

-G.O.A.T Skills: 2

(i) ZINEDINE VISUAL JUJU

(1st-level: Progress: 10.001%)

(ii) ZACHARY-ARROW-SHOT

(1st-level: Progress: 1%)

Zachary's mood lifted. He raised a fist in celebration after viewing his G.O.A.T-Skills tab.

He had discovered another G.O.A.T skill in his user stats at the end of the trial match three weeks prior. He right away concluded that it was unlocked when he scored a goal from a long-range shot. It seemed the system could capture his best plays during games and turn them into potential skills.

Zachary had realized that as long as he improved his individual skills beyond a certain threshold, they had a chance of being registered in the G.O.A.T-skills of the system. His arrow-shot was one such skill.

It improved the power and accuracy of his shots from outside the box.

It had been at a measly 0.0001% when he first discovered it. However, with daily shooting practice for three weeks, he had managed to raise it to a 1st-level-progress of 1%.

Zachary had come to the realization that his G.O.A.T-skills, whether acquired from the system or self-trained, could only be leveled up with practice and playing real matches. Even the Zinedine-Visual-Juju had improved by 0.001% after he participated in the trial match and training sessions of the TP Mazembe reserves. He was falling more in love with the system.

"What are you looking at?" Kasongo's voice sounded from behind him. "I often see you spacing out, especially after training. Are you okay?"

Zachary turned around to face his friend before flashing a smile and replying, "I was replaying the feel of striking the ball on the volley in my mind. Doing that helps me improve my shooting form." Zachary lied.

He couldn't tell Kasongo he was looking at a system interface. That carried the risk of problems later on. He made a mental note to desist from opening the system around others.

"You've been improving really fast with your long-range shots." Kasongo smiled. "Three weeks ago, you could only hit 1 out of 10 balls on the volley accurately. But today, you were able to do it ten consecutive times. I can't fathom why the French teams left you out."

"Why do you keep bringing up the French teams?" Zachary frowned. He wanted to put the failure of that day behind him. However, Kasongo brought up the topic regularly.

"Hahaha," Kasongo laughed. He used his sleeve to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Tossing more than 100 balls to Zachary had tired him out.

"It's my luck we'll be going to the same academy. We do make a great team." A smile as big as a crescent moon lit up Kasongo's face.

"Has your dad finally signed off on your trip to Norway?" Zachary inquired. Kasongo had been complaining for the past two weeks about his stuck-up dad's refusal to sign the consent forms he needed to join a soccer academy in Europe.

"Yes." Kasongo grinned. "Coach Damata helped by talking to him. He had to post a letter from Mr. Stein detailing how the sports scholarship would include a study bursary. My old man only agreed after being assured that I could continue schooling even in Europe."

"Cong's." Zachary laughed, patting the short guy's back. "I told you to involve Coach Damata earlier. But you kept on delaying. You could have finalized all this paperwork without any hassle."

"Is all your paperwork finished? I mean permits, visa, consent forms, and police letters?"

"Hahaha. The coach helped me get my visa over a week ago. He even flew to Bukavu to meet my grandma for the signing of the consent forms. I'll fly out of the country next Tuesday." Zachary grinned. He was close to achieving the first objective in his new life.

Zachary had discussed the responsibilities and benefits he would be receiving in Norway at length with Mr. Stein. He now knew he had to train at the NF International academy, in Trondheim City, for six months before he could join the Rosenborg under-16 squad.

Alongside all the soccer training, Zachary had to take upper secondary education, also sponsored by Rosenborg. He would receive a monthly allowance of 14,000 Norwegian Kroner, provided he performed well in the academy and didn't fail high school. That was an amount he never got a chance to earn in his past life.

"Eehh. That fast!" Kasongo exclaimed. "You're not even going to say goodbye to your grandma?" Kasongo frowned.

"I would have loved to see her. However, I didn't want to risk traveling back to Bukavu." Zachary smiled ruefully.

"Why?" Kasongo looked at Zachary with confusion.

"There are many militia groups in the surrounding regions," Zachary whispered, looking around. "What if I get kidnapped when I'm this close to achieving my dreams? The risk will be even greater if the rogues back home hear that I'm heading to Europe. They might even resort to kidnapping my grandma for ransom if I succeed as a pro."

"I'm only protecting my grandma by not visiting." Zachary sighed, smiling ruefully. In his past life, He had ignored the rogues thinking they were just simple thugs. However, he knew better in this life. Most were rebels gearing up for the M23 rebellion, an armed conflict destined to break out a year and a half later. Zachary didn't wish to be a hero by attempting to stop the war from happening. He had no influence whatsoever in the Congo. He needed to evacuate his grandma before the conflict began.

He remembered that roughly a year and a half later, she had died after being hit by a stray bullet while on a church mission to Goma.

[I need to move her before that happens.] Zachary resolved inwardly.

"Do you need my help?" Kasongo asked anxiously. "I could move your grandma to Kinshasa."

"No, thanks." Zachary shook his head. "The capital has its own challenges. It's no better than the war-torn areas especially if you lack money. I'll move her to Lubumbashi as soon as I have something saved up."

"If you need any help, don't forget to approach me," Kasongo intoned solemnly. "I'll help in any way I can."

Zachary nodded before diverting the topic.

"When do you plan to travel to Norway?"

"Not sure yet."

"You need to speed up your paperwork. Mr. Stein and Miss Kristin will be with me on the same flight next Tuesday. We should travel together." Zachary suggested.

"I'll try my best," Kasongo concurred.

"Let's gather the balls and head to the hotel. It's getting late. Mr. Stein must be waiting for us." The two had moved into a new hotel with the Norwegian scouts after being selected for the scholarship. Zachary no longer had to worry about his friend's security. His only wish was that the remaining six days would pass quickly so he could continue his journey in Europe.

* END OF 1ST VOLUME: ESCAPING FATE *

Thank you for reading. Pls, remember to vote, comment, and review.

In this chapter, I intended to introduce how the G.O.A.T-skills of the MC will develop. I hope it's clear that the system won't ridiculously spoon-feed skills to the MC.

I'm upping the release rate of the chapters starting this week. There will be a chapter per day for the whole of this month as we head into the academy arc. Thanks again for supporting the book. Keep voting.

16 Arrival in Trondheim City

Tuesday, August 17, 2010.

Zachary checked the time on his watch. It was 10:00 PM.

[Travelling sure is hard.] He sighed.

Together with Kasongo and the two Norwegians, Zachary had taken a morning flight from Lubumbashi to Addis-Ababa, Ethiopia. That was the first stop-over on their twenty-two-hour journey to Trondheim, Norway. After a four-hour rest in the airport, they joined the boarding queue of an Ethiopian airlines flight heading to Amsterdam. Due to their well-organized paperwork, they faced no challenges going through customs. They then boarded an airport bus that transported them to the plane that would fly them to Amsterdam through the night.

Zachary turned his attention to the planes he could see flashing by through the window. Men and women in reflector jackets moved around them, towing loads of cargo or shouting instructions. A few airport vehicles, Zachary could not identify, were parked beside the planes as well.

"Are the two of you nervous?" Mr. Stein, on his left, probed. On his back lay a gigantic backpack that shouldn't have been carried by a man his age. Zachary had volunteered to help him with the luggage, but the old man had refused.

"Nope," Kasongo, standing opposite them, replied. He was dressed in designer clothes and shoes that made him look like a rapper rather than a soccer player. His white timberland boots were especially eye-catching in the dimly lit bus.

"Traveling on a plane is much more comfortable than a ride on a bus. I enjoyed the flight from Lubumbashi to Addis-Ababa. The food was delicious." He added, smiling.

"Have you flown a lot previously?" Kristin asked from beside him.

"Well, just about once a year. My dad takes us on vacations every festive season. Last year we were in France. But this will be my first time in Norway." Kasongo answered, smiling.

Zachary chose to stay out of the discussion. He was slightly ashamed to mention his fears to the group, especially with Miss Kristin present. The truth was he was terrified by planes. No matter how luxurious the furnishings inside the airplane were, it would never be more than a flying metal tube to Zachary. The fact that this was his first trip out of DR Congo amplified his fears. He was frightened by the thought of being more than 30,000 feet off the ground. There were so many things that could go wrong at that altitude.

Nonetheless, he was eager to reach Trondheim City. There, he would finally begin his journey to become a soccer pro on the European scene. That was the single thing he had been dreaming about his whole past life, and now it was all finally coming true. It was the only thought that had kept him brave enough to endure the long journey.

"What about you, Zach?" Mr. Stein asked, turning towards him. "Are you nervous?"

"Well, I don't like planes," Zachary replied honestly. "I just want the journey to end as quickly as possible."

"We'll get there. Don't worry." Mr. Stein patted his back.

They spent the rest of their short ride on the bus in silence before boarding the plane. At 10:30 PM, the plane took off. They were in the skies.

Zachary was seated beside Kasongo in a 2-seater on the row closest to the window. The Norwegians were situated behind them in the economy class section.

Zachary felt better knowing that he was in Boeing-747, a jumbo jet. He'd not heard of one, en route to Europe, crashing in the year 2010 of his previous life. He ignored Kasongo who was watching movies and forced himself into slumber. Zachary woke up the next morning as the plane descended into Amsterdam.

They didn't spend much time in the Amsterdam airport. With Mr. Stein's help, the two boys quickly got through the customs and immigration procedures at the airport. In a short while, they were allowed to board another plane to Trondheim, Norway.

Zachary let out a breath of pent up air when the plane touched down on the runway at the Værnes Airport in Trondheim after another two hours of flight.

"Welcome to Trondheim." Mr. Stein smiled at the two African boys as he got up from his seat. "How was the flight?" He asked.

"Okay," Zachary replied.

"Exciting," Kasongo laughed.

"That's great." Mr. Stein smiled. "We need to get you settled in by noon today. "Let's head to customs right away."

The two boys followed the Norwegians and were soon out of the plane.

"It's very cold," Zachary commented once they were out into the open air.

"Don't mind the weather," Mr. Stein consoled. "You'll soon get used to it." He led the way down the airstair of the plane.

"I hear that in winter, the temperatures may drop to a bare minimum of -4 Degrees Centigrade," Kasongo commented, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck.

"We won't have any soccer matches in such weather. Our seasons usually end by early December." Kristin cut in as they continued hurrying across the tarmac of the airport.

It was 9 AM, one of the worst times for an African to arrive in Northern Europe during autumn. Zachary was assaulted by the chilly breeze cutting through his heavy jacket. He began shivering before he even reached the bottom of the airstair.

[Coming from Africa and stepping into Europe is like descending from a warm oven into a freezer.] He mused.

At that early hour, the lounges of Værnes airport were very serene. The people moved with ease, quiet rivers of humanity freshly roused from their slumber. The floors were clean and white, reflecting both the early rays and the artificial lights.

Since their group had already been through European immigration procedures in Amsterdam, they didn't spend much time in the airport. They presented their travel documents and exited the airport only after forty minutes.

A Rosenborg van collected them from the airport and transported them to the city. The city wasn't what Zachary expected. He expected to see skyscrapers like those in American movies all around Trondheim. But medieval buildings covered the majority of the cityscape. Trondheim itself was beautiful and charming, with neat roads and unique urban architecture. The streets were glorious in their inception. The sidewalks made of smooth grey stones, joined with such precision that the joins were almost invisible. The buildings were nothing short of historical, the bastions of the city's pride, stamping its status as one of the eco-cities on the planet. Zachary noticed that there was no garbage or sewage on the streets as they traveled through the city. The city was very clean compared to either Kinshasa or Lubumbashi.

"We've just passed the Nidelva River. That is the Nidaros Cathedral. There's a soccer pitch around there where you could train in the future." Miss Kristin pointed at a medieval grey church building in the distance as they crossed a bridge. She'd appointed herself as the guide of the two African boys.

"Miss Kristin," Zachary intoned. "Where will we be staying?" That was his main concern at the moment.

"Moholt student village," Kristin replied, smiling. "We're almost there. You'll like the place."

After another twenty minutes, by Zachary's estimation, the Rosenborg van pulled into the parking lot of the student village. Tall brown buildings, roughly six stories high, loomed around them.

"This is the largest student village in Trondheim City," Mr. Stein said after they exited the van with their luggage in tow. "Usually, this place is reserved for international students at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology." He continued.

"However, we've agreed with the university's office of international relations. They've allowed us to house our international students here as well. You'll be sharing a four-room apartment with two of our other academy players from Sweden."

"Come on. I'll show you to your apartment." The old man smiled as he led the way out of the parking lot and into one of the buildings.

Kasongo and Zachary followed while Kristin remained in the van.

A minute later, they stood in a well-furnished apartment on the fourth floor of the building. In the living room, there were two huge fridges, a cooker, sinks, furniture, and other household appliances Zachary didn't recognize. The room was well illuminated by the rays of the morning sun coming in through a huge window that overlooked the parking lot.

[This is utopia.] Zachary concluded.

He couldn't help but compare the apartment with his house back in Bukavu that had no access to both electricity and piped water.

"Choose one of the rooms on the right," Mr. Stein instructed. "Room 1 and 2 are already occupied by your housemates who are still away on holiday." He smiled.

Zachary selected room number four whereas Kasongo chose number three.

"Okay then," Mr. Stein smiled. "Here are the keys to each of your rooms. You can unpack and rest today. I will be here to take you to meet your coaches tomorrow morning." He handed each of them an envelope with their names.

"There is food in the fridge if you wish to cook. Try not to move around unless you have to. But if you need to buy something urgently, head over to the supermarket just across the parking lot where we were. The money for the week is also in the envelope."

"Any questions before I leave?" He asked, looking at both Zachary and Kasongo inquisitively.

"Do we start training tomorrow?" Kasongo inquired.

"The coaches will decide after your medical tomorrow," the scout replied.

"Zach, don't you have any questions?"

"Not at the moment," Zachary replied, smiling. "We can talk tomorrow about everything else." The long journey had worn him out. He needed to rest and prepare for the meeting with the coaches. There was no need for him to worry about anything as long as he had food in the apartment. He was glad he had safely arrived in Europe and looked forward to beginning his soccer training.

"Okay. It's good that you're calm." Mr. Stein nodded. "Be ready by nine o'clock tomorrow morning. We'll head over to the academy then. But don't do anything you wouldn't if your parents were around." He warned.

Thanks for reading. Vote, Comment, and Review. Stay tuned for tomorrow's chapter.

creators' thoughts

17 The Medical

The day dawned crisp and clear.

As promised, Mr. Stein picked the two boys from their new apartment at Moholt student village at 8:55 AM. Zachary and Kasongo had long been ready and were waiting for the scout in the parking lot. They'd dressed in heavy clothing to shield themselves from the morning coldness. They were eager to commence their first day as academy players in Norway.

"How was your night," Mr. Stein asked as the Toyota Carib they were in pulled out of the parking lot, heading into the main road. The aged scout was on the steering while the two boys sat in the back, admiring the sceneries.

"Quite good," Kasongo was the first to reply, smiling. "I slept like a baby the whole night."

"Same here. The night couldn't have been better." Zachary also responded. His new comfy bed, with silk duvets and cotton bed sheets, was like a heaven on earth to him. He'd entered a deep slumber right after eating a self-cooked delicious dinner the previous evening. The heater in the room guaranteed that the cold outside never affected his sleep. He already liked his new life.

"I'm happy to hear that." Mr. Stein smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. "We'll first head to the NTNU Sports Department where you'll undergo a medical. Your move to Rosenborg BK won't be finalized unless you pass the medical tests there." He added solemnly.

"But we're academy players," Kasongo contested, frowning. "And we've already gone through mandatory check-ups in Lubumbashi. You remember?"

"The academy coaches need to know that you're a worthwhile investment. Of course, I trust that the two of you are fit since I was with you in Lubumbashi." Mr. Stein paused as he rounded a round-about before entering another wider street, with denser traffic. Zachary noticed that there wasn't any traffic jam on the roads of Trondheim. Many people were on their bikes in a side lane, probably riding to work.

Mr. Stein continued his explanation after entering the straight section of the road.

"We'll be trying to give the academy as much information as possible because, in the end, they've to decide whether they want to train you or not. The results of the medical will also help them design a better training plan for you once you enter the academy."

"But what happens if we fail?" Kasongo asked. Zachary also nodded to indicate his doubts.

"No worries," Mr. Stein smiled. "You'll still be allowed to spend six months at the academy before being sent back to Africa. But I have confidence in you. You won't fail."

They spent the rest of the minutes of their car ride in silence. The boys seemed to be worried about the medicals while Mr. Stein was busy navigating the road. A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of the gigantic building housing the sports department. It was roughly six to eight stories high, by Zachary's estimation.

"This here is St. Olav's University Hospital complex," Mr. Stein said as they exited their ride. "The offices of NTNU's Sports Department are in the building. You'll undergo your medical there."

An hour later, Zachary sat on an exercise bike in a well-equipped room, similar to a gym. He frowned at the medical specialist. The doctor had taken him through hell as an excuse for a warm-up. Every five minutes, the resistance of the bike increased, putting more strain on his limbs. He was already in agony even before the real medical commenced.

[I wonder how Kasongo is doing.] He mused.

He'd been separated from Mr. Stein and Kasongo right after meeting with the medic who was to conduct his medical. The middle-aged doctor had introduced himself as Dr. Alexander Øystein before leading him to the gym. There, he'd requested Zachary to warm-up on the bike until he said otherwise. Zachary did not complain but carried out the exercise as instructed. However, it was already close to an hour, yet the doctor wasn't putting a stop to his warm-up. Zachary was frustrated.

"Okay, that's enough," Dr. Øystein intoned. Zachary couldn't tell from his poker face whether he was impressed or not. He hopped off the bike and waited for his instructions.

"Next, we shall carry out the Biodex assessment, which is a test designed to test the strength between your muscle groups," the doctor explained.

After a quick warm-up, Zachary was strapped into a white chair and instructed to extend his leg by kicking out before pulling it back to the starting position. Dr. Øystein requested him to repeat the exercise five times, then again with more resistance for each leg. Pulling the elastic strap, especially with his left leg, tired him out until he was panting like a Labrador running in the sun.

Later, the doctor instructed Zachary to run on a treadmill at varying speeds while breathing into a mask to determine his aerobic capabilities. Zachary had great endurance that enabled him to go through all the required exercises without a hitch. His B stamina wasn't only for show.

Throughout the day, he underwent several tests, most of which seemed to be senseless to him. The doctor put him through bone scans, blood and urine tests, plus several other medical check-ups that were alien to Zachary. He spent six hours with the doctor and was only permitted to leave a few minutes after three in the afternoon. He couldn't tell whether he had passed the medical after the doctor finished with the tests. The doctor didn't smile even once during the whole session.

"How was your medical test?" Zachary asked Kasongo once they met in the parking lot.

"I honestly don't know," the short guy replied, shaking his head. "My doctor was one of those serious people who never smile."

"How was yours?"

"Same," Zachary replied, fastening his jacket. "I can't tell whether I passed or not. The doctor didn't disclose anything."

"Do you think that they could send us back?" Kasongo queried, frowning.

"I don't think so. This was just an academy medical. They don't need us to play matches right away. So, as long as we don't have any latent injuries, we shall pass." Zachary assured his friend.

"I hope so," Kasongo murmured.

"Stop worrying." Zachary patted his back. "Let's wait for Mr. Stein. He'll give us the results today as we are head home."

Concurrently in one of the offices of NTNU's Sports Department.

Dr. Alexander Øystein presented the results from the medicals to Mr. Stein and another middle-aged gentleman. The gentleman was Boyd Johansen, the interim head coach of the NF International Academy in Trondheim.

"My Friend, Martin. You managed to acquire a perfect specimen on your trip." Dr. Øystein laughed. He was all smiles and had done away with the poker face he had presented to Zachary.

Both Mr. Stein and Coach Johansen didn't reply but just waited for the doctor to continue.

"The boy Zachary is very fit for his age. It's like he has been through professional training over the past three months. His skeletal range of movement is simply excellent. I checked his joints and pelvic muscles and noticed that they were in great shape. I can boldly hypothesize that he has good lower-body mobility and perfect body coordination."

"Are you sure that he wasn't part of a professional team?" He inquired, looking doubtfully at Mr. Stein.

"He's just about to make sixteen. Which professional training could he possibly get in Congo? Does he have any red flags? What about his left leg?" Mr. Stein's words came out at the pace of a machine gun. He'd heard some rumors about Zachary's left foot being injured and wanted to confirm their validity. He even ignored the advice of the Nantes' scout and insisted on recruiting him.

"What injury?" Dr. Øystein scoffed. "As a doctor, I can tell you this. The boy's bones have never experienced any fractures. The strength of his left foot is phenomenal. I tested it several times to check for any weak spots in his leg-muscles, but there were none."

"That's great news for me," Mr. Stein yelled, smiling.

"We still don't know anything about his soccer skills," Coach Johansen cut in.

"Didn't I hand you my report about the boy?" Mr. Stein frowned.

"You didn't carry out any practical tests to measure his skills." The interim head coach shook his head, sighing. "You just let him play against none professionals who might have been amateurs at soccer, for all we know."

"What did you expect? You want us to just fix him into the academy without knowing his skills?" He questioned.

"I will test the boys myself in a real match next week. I can only determine if he qualifies for the scholarship then."

"But there are no under-16 matches this month," Mr. Stein argued.

"There's an under-19 friendly game with Viking on Tuesday next week. I'm adding him to the line-up." Coach Johansen smiled at the scout.

"Are you serious? He's just fifteen."

"If he is as good as you make him out to be, there isn't a need to worry. As they say, a diamond is a chunk of coal that did well under pressure. Does he have high game intelligence? Let's see if your boy is a diamond or a waste when he is under pressure during the game." The coach stated nonchalantly.

"Alex, help me out here." Mr. Stein turned towards the doctor after noticing that he couldn't reason with the coach. "The boy hasn't trained with the team yet. However, he's now pushed into a group with members, three years his seniors. He'll face a high risk of injury."

The doctor turned and started typing on his computer as if he'd never heard a word from the scout. He seemed to be implying that he wouldn't take part in their argument.

"Martin," Coach Johansen cut in. "My decision is final. He'll train with the boys on Friday and Monday before taking part in the game on Tuesday. I don't need him to do much in the game. He just has to perform above average."

"Doctor, what about the other boy?" The coach turned his attention back to Alexander.

"Oh, yes. My colleague tested the second boy. I've his report here." The doctor said, picking up one of the files on his desk. He looked through the file before continuing.

"He's average. Not too fit but not too shabby either. He has good lower-limb strength and good stamina. However, his body fat is slightly on the higher end. His test didn't find any red flags within his body. So, he can join the academy." He concluded his account, closing the file.

"High body fat?" The coach mumbled, frowning. "I'll give him only a month to get fully fit. Otherwise, I'll have to send him back after six months. I hate lazy players the most."

"Why're you doing this?" Mr. Stein asked.

"Doing what?"

"Picking on the players I've brought in?"

Coach Johansen looked at the scout and shrugged. "I treat all my players the same. As long as the two boys meet my requirements, they'll have nothing to worry about."

"Doctor. If there is nothing else, I'll be heading to the training grounds. My players are waiting." He excused himself, leaving the other two men in the room.

"Boyd is sometimes a pain in the ass," Mr. Stein commented after the coach had left.

"You have to understand that he's under a lot of pressure to perform. Setting stringent selection criteria is one of the strategies he's using to meet his goals. He's still an interim after all."

"Nah," Mr. Stein shook his head. "I'm guessing that he's related to one of my foes on the board. What do I tell the boys now?"

"It's as if you've just become a scout," the doctor exclaimed. "Tell them the truth."

18 Resolution

After the medical at St. Olav, Mr. Stein drove the two boys back to their apartment before disclosing the results of their tests. He then explained to the boys how they had passed but still needed to undergo one final test before they could receive the soccer academy's scholarship.

"Let me get this straight," Kasongo intoned, frowning. "We passed the medical, but the coach still wants to put us through another test before we sign a contract?" He was as outspoken as usual.

"That's basically it." Mr. Stein nodded.

"Why an under-19 match for me?" Zachary asked, drumming his fingers on the dining table. The slanting rays of the evening sun coming into the small kitchen through the opposite window highlighted the sullen look on his face.

Mr. Stein, seated on one of the chairs on the opposite side, looked at him and smiled.

"Are you scared?"

"Yes, I'm," Zachary replied honestly.

He was informed that he was to face the under-19 players who'd been undergoing well-tailored professional training from their childhood. He wasn't so naive to think he would best such players—two to three years his seniors.

"Do you watch the English Premier League?" Mr. Stein asked, leaning back in his seat.

The question caught Zachary off guard. He looked at the scout, wondering why he'd brought up the premiership—but nothing came to his mind at that moment. Nonetheless, he still decided to humor the aged scout with an answer.

"I do." He nodded.

Mr. Stein cast a teasing glance at Zachary before speaking.

"Then you must have watched the Arsenal team of 2003 when Cesc Fàbregas made his debut for the Gunners at the age of 16. That was in an English Premiership club—several tiers above our Rosenborg BK. But the boy Cesc started his professional career at such a young age and still managed to impress in one of the toughest leagues on the planet."

"What about you?"

Mr. Stein seemed more like a coach rather than a scout.

"If you can't even perform in a friendly game of the Rosenborg under-19s, how will you succeed as a professional player later on? Will you be able to compete with boys, talented as Cesc?" The scout queried, locking eyes with Zachary.

The questions hit Zachary's psyche like a blacksmith's hammer on hot iron, molding a determination of steel he'd never possessed in the entirety of his two lives. His eyes lit up as a dozen or so new ambitions streamed through his brain. He desired to be a winner who was able to compete with anybody.

He couldn't help but think about the greats like Lionel Messi and Christiano Ronaldo. They had made their debuts in official matches at the ages of seventeen and eighteen, respectively. But they had shined like the stars they were, stumping their names in the histories of their clubs.

Zachary dreamed of such glory and was determined to achieve it.

[I need to start gunning for the top right away.] He deliberated.

He resolved to be the greatest such that if he ever faltered, he would fall close to the top. If he set his sights on besting Ronaldinho but failed, he would at least compare with Neymar or end up as a Mohamed Salah in the future. And that was not a bad thing for him since he was just a failure in his past life.

With the system as support, coupled with his hard work, he believed that he would reach the top sooner or later. He just had to correct his attitude before it was too late.

With newfound vigor, he looked at the scout with a glint in his eyes. "I understand," he said solemnly. "I'll aim for an excellent performance during the friendly match with Viking. You won't be disappointed."

"Atta-boy. That's the spirit." The scout laughed.

"Remember that motivation is only your motor, but you have to steer toward the right destination. I have been a scout for a long time and can tell that you're a talent. Your destination should be the top professional leagues of Europe."

Zachary was embarrassed by the praise since he'd used a system's vitality-enhancing elixir to improve his physique. He simply maintained a poker face as he continued listening to the scout's words.

"Your physique is strong enough to support you in the under-19s. You simply need to grow some extra balls, stay calm, and perform."

"If you do, some doors you never thought existed might be opened." Mr. Stein added, voice turning dramatic at the very end.

"What do you mean?" Zachary hurriedly inquired. He could tell that there might be a hint somewhere in the scout's monologue.

"You didn't hear this from me," Mr. Stein murmured as if he was hiding his speech from a hidden entity somewhere in the small kitchen of their apartment. He looked comical.

"If you play well, you may catch the eye of Rosenborg's head coach. I'm sure that he'll be present for the game since he's looking for new players to join the senior team. You may escape the fate of staying in the academy for a period greater than six months if he notices you."

"Really?" Both Zachary and Kasongo exclaimed in unison, jumping up from their seats in surprise. They longed to play soccer as professionals. Debuting quicker was their goal.

"It's the truth." The old man smiled slyly.

"How can I get into the line-up of that match," Kasongo grumbled like an aggrieved housewife. "And why does Zach get all the good opportunities?"

"Kasongo, don't get me started on your incompetence," The scout said, frowning.

"How can a young sportsman like you have excess body fat? What have you been eating? You better take your fitness training seriously. Otherwise, I'll tell Coach Damata to inform your old man. You can say goodbye to soccer forever." He harrumphed.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stein," Kasongo pleaded. "I'll train seriously starting tomorrow morning."

"I hope so. But hold that thought. I'll be taking you to acquire your temporary residence permits from the police tomorrow. After that, you'll be able to open a Norwegian bank account where we'll deposit your allowances."

"When do we depart?" Kasongo asked.

"8:30 in the morning," Mr. Stein replied. "We need to finish all your immigration procedures by noon since Zach will need to attend the pre-match training session with the under-19s tomorrow afternoon."

"Kasongo, you'll come with me to check out the gym where the two of you will be training during your first six months here."

"Do we need to pay for the gym?" Zachary cut in before the scout could continue. He'd already chanced upon a small gym in his building's basement earlier that day. It could satisfy all his needs without the need to pay for expensive membership in the city center. He didn't wish to spend his allowance on anything unnecessary.

"You don't have to worry," Mr. Stein replied, smiling. "As long as you use the gym between 6 to 8 AM, you won't have to pay a single cent."

"Oh, that's great. I'll be sure to check it out on Saturday." His training with the under-19s was only on Friday and Monday. He would have the whole weekend to check out the gym.

-NB: I have been contacted by the webnovel editors notifying me that this book won the Gold Tier of WFP #20. Thanks for your support. Remember to continue voting, commenting, and reviewing. I'm planning for a long book and need all the cheering with the powerstones :) Gracias.

-You might have noticed that this chapter is abit shorter than usual. I'm still doing some necessary character building. Didn't want to mix in the 'soccer training' and 'match prep' parts in this chapter. But do continue reading and following the story.

-Discord for book: https/discord.gg/7mNvAaTtkf

19 Pre-match Training Sessions

The next day.

Zachary received his temporary residence permit from the police station and managed to open a bank account. Surprisingly, Mr. Stein banked the 14,000 Norwegian Kroner that was his monthly allowance soon after. He seemed not to mind the fact that Zachary had not yet signed a contract with either the Rosenborg team or the NF Academy. When Zachary queried him about the issue, he just flashed a smile before telling him to perform well during the match on Tuesday.

At noon, Zachary returned to Moholt and ate light lunch before starting his preparations for his first training session later that day.

Since the Rosenborg senior team was using the Lerkendal Stadium that afternoon, the coaches had organized for the under-19 training session to take place at the Death-Valley Fotballbanen. It was a soccer pitch owned by NTNUI—the largest sports club in Norway.

Zachary reached the pitch at around 2:30 PM. He'd no trouble locating the Death-Valley since Mr. Stein's had already brought him there earlier that day. On arrival, he noticed that more than twenty players were already dressed and going through light warm-ups on the sidelines. They were an intimidating bunch. The majority were Caucasians, standing at almost six feet tall, with physiques—seemingly more muscular or comparable to his.

There was only a single African player in their midst with a dark-brown skin tone and hair shaped into a mini-afro. Zachary supposed that he was probably not very famous in his previous life since he couldn't identify him.

Running beside him was the only player Zachary recognized among all the boys on the pitch. He was a tall fellow with neck-length black hair named Ole—something. Zachary recalled Ole playing for the French team Saint-Étienne in a match against Lyon during his past life. The midfielder was hard to forget since he shared a name with one of Norway's greatest players.

Zachary didn't bother the group of players and quickly donned his new soccer attire. He'd bought several sets of jerseys and a new pair of Nike boots after receiving his allowance earlier that day.

Soon enough, Zachary, fully dressed in a light-green attire, started warming up alone on the sidelines. He started off by marching on the spot before running from one corner flag to another—along the goal line. He made sure to include some forward and backward sprints in his routine when he pumped his arms up and down in rhythm with his steps.

Salty droplets flowed down his face like soft tropical rain, dripping onto the artificial turf of the pitch. But Zachary didn't stop the routine until he felt that his muscles were active and ready for intensive soccer drills. During the short career of his previous life, he'd come to understand the importance of warming the body before any intensive exercise. It would help increase his flexibility while reducing muscle soreness and lessening the risk of injury.

Zachary concluded his warm-up with some light stretches before returning his attention to the other players. He wanted to spy on some of their talents using the system. He was a staunch believer of the 'know your competitor as you know yourself' principle.

Zachary picked up one of the stray balls from the sidelines before clicking on the snooping-tool. He had to be in contact with a ball for the tool to function.

"DING"

Zachary focused on the interface as soon as the familiar system notification sounded.

Cross-hairs similar to those of a sniper android game had appeared on the screen. A few words were above and below them.

*SNOOPING TOOL ACTIVATED

-Focus the virtual scope on the subject to assess their talent.

Allowed usage for a single month: 6/6.

Zachary focused the virtual-cross-hairs on Ole—the only midfielder he recognized on the pitch.

"DING"

SUBJECT: Ole Selnæs

AGE: 16 years

TALENT ASSESSMENT: GRADE-A

*USER STATS

-Physical Fitness: A

-Soccer Technique: A

-Game Intelligence: B

-Mental Ability and Mindset: A-

-X-Factors: C

Zachary was at a loss for words after glancing at the translucent virtual screen. He wondered whether all the players on the team were A-grade talents. The boy Ole was just slightly older than him but with much better stats. The only stat Zachary bested him was the Game-Intelligence that he had luckily elevated due to his acquisition of the Zinedine-Visual-Juju.

What surprised Zachary the most was the boy possessing a C grade for the X-Factor stat. To this point, he didn't understand what the attribute represented. On his user-stats interface were the glittering words—No Info Available as of yet. The system had left him with no clue about how to improve his X-Factor.

Zachary was about to continue his spying but noticed that the coaches had arrived. They had just blown the whistle calling everyone to the center circle.

Zachary closed the virtual screen and dashed off towards the coaches. He was eager to begin his first training with the Rosenborg under-19s.

"Is Zachary Bemba here?" One of the two coaches hollered out after making a short address to the players seated in the center circle.

"Here." Zachary, seated at the back of the group, raised his arm as he replied. He'd noticed that the middle-aged bald coach who'd called his name was somewhat too tall for his build—as if he stopped growing only to be stretched on one of those medieval racks a half-foot more. His face was mostly obscured by a scraggly red beard that clung to his skin like ravaged ivy tendrils.

"So, you're the Zachary," the coach intoned, starting to observe him with a predator's unwavering attention. There was a hardness in his eyes, a kind of coldness married to a seriousness. It was the look of a no-nonsense coach. At that moment, Zachary knew that he was in for some tough time if he didn't manage to impress.

And the coach's ensuing few words proved his conjecture.

"Welcome to the team," he said after observing him for a few seconds. "But keep in mind that you're still in a probationary period. I hope old man Stein filled you in on this!" He looked at Zachary inquisitively.

"Yes, he did," Zachary replied, choosing to ignore the confused expressions of the rest of the players in front of him. Zachary supposed that they weren't aware of his addition to the team.

Mr. Stein had warned him not to antagonize the coach while touching upon some of the conditions he was to fulfill before sealing his move to Norway.

"If your performance is subpar during these two training sessions, I won't bother including you in the line-up for the match on Tuesday. Are we together?"

"Yes, coach," Zachary replied, unfazed by the coach's words.

During his past life, he'd come to understand that coaches loved one thing the most—winning. This occupational hazard made coaches prone to loving players who performed well and lusted for victory. Zachary needed to show the coach that he was such a player starting from his first training with the Rosenborg under-19s.

And he did just that over the next two sessions of pre-match training.

On that Friday, the training session focused on scrutinizing the physical condition of the players that would partake in the match. All the players went through fitness drills that tested their flexibility, agility, and stamina.

Zachary vigorously completed all the required drills, as instructed by Coach Boyd Johansen.

When it was time for running the speed and agility cone exercises, he did double the required number. Zachary understood the importance of physical training and decided to outdo himself with his young body.

He'd heard that Cristiano Ronaldo managed to rise to the top by doing such inhumane fitness conditioning from a young age. Zachary had no way to verify such rumors. However, he wished to emulate such hard work to keep himself fit throughout his career—and above all, improve his agility.

He silently completed the day's training without wasting any time on needless chatter with the others. He had no luxury for such since he was yet to join the team. In the meantime, all he could think about was how to impress the coaches. Zachary would have all the time to bond with the other players after performing well during the match on Tuesday.

The Monday training session focused on drilling the match formations into the players' style of play. The coaches organized several 6-versus-4 team training drills that focused on passing and team play.

Zachary tackled like a soccer maniac, intercepted balls like the future N'Golo Kanté, and continuously performed some crazy off-ball movement when he participated. It was as if he had endless stamina with a nitro engine tied to his butt.

By the time drills were over, most of his new teammates were treating him with respect as a hardworking player who was never fatigued. The training had revealed to them that Zachary was the kind of player anyone hated having as an opponent. He was good at all the dirty jobs like the tackling needed for the team.

However, there were a couple of the under-19 players not convinced or, more likely, too inflamed with jealousy to respect a fifteen-year-old newbie fresh from Africa.

Some even insulted him, making sure that he heard their verbal abuse. They nicknamed him the Mindless-Shrek, either due to his extreme enthusiasm towards training or his outfit. In the two pre-match practice sessions, his default attire had been all green, from the shirt to the boots.

Zachary did not bother with the few simple-minded teenagers.

He'd already learned his lesson during the Lubumbashi trials and wouldn't pick a fight. He was in Europe to play soccer and make some good money. He wouldn't let his anger get in the way of that.

He turned a blind eye to the few boys and completed his cooling down routine while awaiting the line-up from the coaches.

And he didn't have to wait long.

A few minutes later, Coach Johansen blew the whistle and beckoned everyone into the center circle.

"Thank you for attending today's training," he began after all the players were seated on the smooth turf of the Death Valley.

"I have already said all that there is earlier during the training and won't waste your time with any long speeches." He grinned, letting his gaze roam all over the players that were eagerly waiting for the line-ups. He seemed to relish in the tension hanging in the evening air.

The players, including Zachary, didn't make any disgruntled noises to pressure the coach into rushing his address. They silently waited for him to advance at his own pace. Not a single player would blunder in such a way on the eve of a big game.

"Sir. It's almost seven." Coach Johansen's assistant, Bjørn Peters, reminded him.

"Oh," he said, flipping his notebook open.

"The provisional squad for tomorrow's game against the under-19s of Viking FK will be as follows..."

"Goal Keepers; Even Barli, Grant Anderson."

"Defence; Simen Wangberg, Emil Røkke, Christoffer Aasbak, Espen Schmitz, and Ulrik Balstad."

"Midfield; Markus Henriksen, Fredrik Midtsjö, Ole Selnaes, and Zachary Bemba."

"Forwards; Mushaga Bakenga, Jonas Svensson, and Gjermund Asen."

"For those selected, make sure you are at Lerkendal by 3:00 PM tomorrow. We will have a team meeting before the match."

"Those not on the line-up can try harder for the next match. Dismissed." The coach concluded.

Thanks for reading. Pls. Remember to vote. Gracias.

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NB: Yesterday couldn't post. I was swamped with some personal issues. Sorry about that. But do try to enjoy the chapter. Thx. for your support.

20 First Match in Europe I

Zachary left the Death Valley right after Coach Johansen had finished naming the line-ups for the game. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders when the coach mentioned his name as part of the team. He walked taller. His stride was lighter, more carefree.

He was looking forward to the game against Viking FK.

The cold evening gave him a reason to rush back home—to his new apartment and enjoy the warmth of the heating system in his room. He quickened his step and reached Moholt within less than fifteen minutes.

"You're back." Kasongo flashed him a smile when he entered the small kitchen, also serving as their living room. Zachary noticed that he'd just placed some French fries and chicken breasts in the oven. The boy was someone who enjoyed his chicken. That was a conclusion made by Zachary after spending the past few days with him.

"How was it?" He asked, looking at Zachary expectantly.

Zachary grinned and said: "What do you think? I'm on the team."

Kasongo sighed. "Man, you're a lucky bastard. You're already going to play a match in Europe, whereas I'm stuck with physicals at the gym, day in day out."

"Just cut down on your meat consumption," Zachary advised. "You wouldn't need the physicals if you had no excess fat."

"Who's says that chicken increases fat? It's just because of my height that I've issues with my body fat percentage." Kasongo argued.

"Are you in the starting eleven?" He asked.

"I don't know yet. The coaches will name the starting team players tomorrow before the match. But I'll most likely not be starting." Zachary replied.

"That's understandable. You're a newbie on the team." Kasongo intoned. "Is the match going to be played in the main Lerkendal Stadium?" He asked.

"Yes," Zachary replied. The Lerkendal Idrettspark, owned by Rosenborg, consisted of the main stadium and three training pitches. They were well managed and strictly controlled by the club's management. Their under-19 game against Viking Stavanger would take place in the main stadium.

"If you play, I will be there to cheer you on. Go and showcase the spirit of African football." Kasongo smiled. He then focused on cutting onions in preparations for their dinner. The two had resolved to cook in turns during their stay together in Trondheim. That day was Kasongo's turn.

Zachary didn't talk at length with Kasongo that night. He washed up, ate dinner, and headed back to his room to sleep by 9:00 PM. He was tired mentally and physically. The training had emptied his energy reserves.

However, he was glad that he'd taken another step towards achieving his dream of becoming a pro soccer player on the international stage.

Zachary felt good as he crawled beneath the sheets. He slept well that night, dreaming of himself lying in a bed of dollars.

The day of the match finally arrived.

The Nordmenn loved their soccer, or rather, their football teams. The people of Trondheim were no exception. Rumors about Rosenborg's under-19 match against Viking Stavanger had spread fast in the small city of Trondheim over the previous few days. They attracted a large number of fans that had arrived at the stadium two hours before the start of the match.

By 2:30 PM, the stands behind one of the goalposts were already fully occupied. That was the section of the stadium that often housed the staunch fans—also members of Rosenborg's supporter club during matches.

Kasongo could feel the adrenaline from the pitch to the stands and flowing right around the stadium. It was the sort of tension mixed with excitement that should not have occurred for a simple under-19 match. He was glad that he'd tagged along with a group of new friends to the stadium. And this was a particularly overzealous group of fans.

He looked expectantly towards his friend, Zachary. He was among the Rosenborg under-19s warming-up between the goalposts that stood sentry at either end of the perfect pitch. He looked the part of a real pro in the black Rosenborg training kit.

For Zachary, it was the perfect day with the ideal conditions in which to play his first match in Europe. The weather was gorgeous that afternoon. Blue skies, no wind, ambient temperature—it was more like an absence of weather. The usual autumn coldness was absent that Tuesday.

Lerkendal Stadium was millions of perfect grass strands as eager for the start of play as the fans who had already brought the stadium to light. Zachary could hear their loud cheers fueling his eagerness to perform. But at the same time, he was a bit overwhelmed by the atmosphere. It had been a long time since he last played in front of a crowd.

Zachary stretched his legs and watched the Viking FK players match into the other half of the pitch. Their light grey-training kits seemed somewhat dull to Zachary.

As they took the field in perfect formation, a slow, steady booing filled the air. The Rosenborg home fans were already giving the Viking team hell even before the match started. Although the stadium was only a quarter full, the cheers of the fans were deafening.

"All players stop the warm-up exercises and head to the dressing room..." The assistant coach, Bjørn Peters, yelled as he moved around the half of the pitch occupied by the Rosenborg team.

"Zach! Zach!"

As Zachary jogged towards the dressing room, he heard someone calling out his name from one of the emptier stands. He looked up only to find Kristin, Mr. Stein, and another old gentleman sitting just beside the stadium tunnel entrance.

"We are rooting for you," Kristin yelled when he cast his sight towards the trio.

"Thank you." Zachary mouthed the words. He waved to his acquaintances before moving on towards the dressing room.

"You know Kristin Stein?" A voice sounded from behind him once he stepped into the tunnel.

Zachary turned around and noticed that the substitute goalkeeper had arrived behind him at some point. He was Grant Anderson, a tall Caucasian with blue eyes and a chiseled jaw. The combination of his blonde hair, tied into a ponytail, and booming voice made him seem intimidating.

"Yes," Zachary replied. "But just casually," he emphasized.

Grant observed him with narrowed, rigid, and cold eyes before saying: "I hope what you say is true. Otherwise. Hmmm." He harrumphed before continuing to the dressing room.

"Is old Grant giving you a hard time?" Ole Selnæs inquired. He'd come up to him right after the goalkeeper left.

"Nope. He was just saying hi," Zachary replied honestly. He had not taken Grant's words seriously. Thoughts about the match were what occupied his mind at that moment. He wouldn't bother about the ravings of a teenager before his first game.

"That's great." Ole patted the back of his shoulder. "Keep your head in the game. I'm sure the coach will give you an opportunity today." He gave Zachary a thumbs up before continuing to the dressing room.

Zachary found the dressing room in a state of chaos. Hoots, hollers, and laughter sounded back and forth through the air, ricocheting off the lockers like metal bullets. Most of the players were slowly putting on their white t-shirts and black shots. That was the official home jersey of team Rosenborg.

"Zach," Mushaga, the only other black fellow in the room, called out to him after seeing Zachary standing by the entrance. He was the player with an afro haircut. The coach had named him as one of the forwards for the game.

"Your jersey is there," he said, pointing to one of the hooks beside a locker. He seemed like a friendly person to Zachary.

"Thank you," Zachary said before picking up the jersey. Since Zachary was not yet officially on the team, he received a numberless jersey for that match.

Coach Johansen and his assistant soon came in. The room fell into silence. The Rosenborg under-19s, dressed in their full jerseys, turned their focus on to the coach.

"We'll play the 4:5:1 formation…" He started explaining the tactics right away while inscribing the squad on the whiteboard fixed to the wall.

Goalkeeper; Even Barli.

The center-backs; Simen Wangberg, Espen Schmitz.

The right-back; Ulrik Balstad. Left-back; Christoffer Aasbak.

Central-midfielders (Defensive); Ole Selnæs, Fredrik Midtsjö.

Central-midfielder (Attacking); Gjermund Asen.

Right-wingers; Jonas Svensson. Left-winger; Markus Henriksen.

Forward; Mushaga Bakenga.

In a few minutes, the coach expounded on the formation and tactics for the first half. The team would play with four defenders, five midfielders, and a single forward. Coach Johansen intended to shut down every passing opportunity of the opposition. Thus, the players would attack and defend together like a pack of wolves.

Zachary was left on the bench together with Grant, Emil, and Jonas. The other three players seemed unhappy about it. However, Zachary was different. It was his first game with the club. He wasn't expecting to be in the starting line-up for the game in the first place.

With his mind at ease, Zachary left the dressing room and headed to the technical area to watch the start of the game. He had to analyze every moment of play to search for opportunities he could exploit when he joined the game as a substitute.

The two teams didn't keep the fans waiting for long.

At exactly 3:45 PM of that Tuesday, two armies of eleven walked onto the green to pitch war in the way of civilized societies.

The match between Rosenborg U19 versus Viking U19 was finally starting.

Disclaimer: The actions and behaviors of characters in this book is a work of fiction. They are just people in an alternate reality without any reference to the real world.

Well. Thanks for reading. Remember to vote.

I had to write that in case a soccer player ever finds himself in one of my chapters. Hopefully it will be of some use.

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21 First Match in Europe II

At 4:00 PM, the referee blew the whistle, signaling for the match to begin.

Viking Stavanger kicked off the match.

The cheering of Rosenborg fans behind Viking's goal shook the stadium right after. They chanted some of the names of the players entering the stadium, like Ole and Mushaga.

The first few minutes were an affair of a scuffle in the midfield. No team managed to hold the ball long enough to make any notable impact during the first ten minutes.

The Rosenborg boys, in white, struggled to dominate the ball possession with their five midfielders. However, they were always quickly closed down by the Viking players in their dark blue jerseys.

The Viking under-19s were proving to be a tough nut to crack.

They were playing the conventional 4-4-2 formation that afforded them a solid basic structure with defensive depth and attacking numbers. All their players had clearly marked roles.

When the Viking team lost the ball, their four defenders and four midfielders would put eight men in front of the Rosenborg boys, covering the entire width of the field. One of their strikers often returned to help in the midfield.

Their game-play was the typical Mourinho style when he faced the Barcelona of Ronaldinho.

But during the 16th minute, the boy Ole Selnæs started performing like a superstar. He attracted a lot of cheers from the crowd of supporters. His plays were phenomenal, enabling the Rosenborg under-19s to come alive when he touched the ball. The other midfielders would try opening up spaces or making runs aimed at penetrating the opponent's half—awaiting his passes.

His long passes were like sniper shots, always managing to find Mushaga—the center forward of the Rosenborg under-19s. The two created the first good chance of the game in the 20th minute in such a fashion.

After receiving a quick ball from the keeper, Ole unleashed a long ball on an arching path towards Mushaga. The afro-boy had the time and space inside the box after picking up the neat pass and pulled the trigger. But his shot towards the far corner was pushed away by the outstretched fingertips of the Viking goalkeeper.

The Rosenborg Troll Kids won the first corner of the game.

Jonas Svensson, the right-winger, stepped up to take the corner. He whipped a teasing ball into the box, but one of the Viking defenders was alert and averted the threat.

However, it was clear to all the spectators that the Troll Kids of Lerkendal had begun establishing their dominance in the game.

Zachary watched the game on the sidelines from the dugout. He was seated at the furthest end from the team officials with his focus scattered, his mind brimming with nervous anticipation. His toes were itchy to kick the ball after watching the opening minutes of the match.

"Damn it." He heard Coach Johansen curse for the umpteenth time during the first half.

Zachary cast a glance towards him and noticed he was rubbing his bald head in frustration.

He empathized with him.

Jonas Svensson, the short right-winger, had just attempted to find the head of Mushaga with a promising cross into the box. However, one of the defenders of the Viking under-19s outjumped the forward and averted the threat.

Stalemates were the worst nightmare for a coach. Although Rosenborg seemed to be in control—with higher ball possession, the match situation could change at any moment. It would take only one goal for Viking to flip the tables upon the Troll Kids. Zachary had watched Greece win the Euro of 2004 in such a fashion.

And his predictions came true when the Viking Stavanger coach made two substitutions at the start of the second half. He brought in two players.

One was a right-winger—named Yann-Erik, with quick feet and an uncanny ability to leave his opponents in the dust. The other was a black muscular player who came on for one of the central midfielders. He was called Landu-Landu by his teammates. Zachary noticed that the man's chest muscles were bulging through the blue jersey and his exposed biceps balls of strength. He was a strong man.

When the two entered the game during the 47th minute, they immediately made an impact.

Landu-Landu marked Ole tightly and put a stop to his control of the game. He stuck to him and shadowed his every move, leaving him with no opportunity to receive and pass the ball.

With the control tower of Rosenborg frozen, the Viking under-19s came alive.

Teasing balls started flying in from the wings towards their two strikers. In the right-wing, Yann-Erik—the substitute could cross with either foot or cut in and threaten the goal. It seemed like he'd complete freedom to switch wings as he wished. He played as a winger on both sides of the pitch and a third striker at the same time.

He tortured the Rosenborg right and left-backs immediately after coming on to the pitch.

On the sidelines, Zachary wondered why such a player had remained obscure in his previous life. Yann-Erik had the flair, speed, and vision of a top number-7.

Yann-Erik cemented his influence on the game in the 54th minute. The Rosenborg midfielders were exchanging neat passes and waiting for an opportunity to start an attack but made a mistake and lost possession. Landu-Landu picked up the ensuing misplaced pass in the center circle and sent forth a lofted long pass towards the right-wing.

Like the wind, Yann-Erik ran onto the pass and dribbled past Christoffer Aasbak—the left-back of Rosenborg. His agile footwork was splendid as he accelerated towards the box. A few seconds later, he was bearing down on goal—and rifled a right-footed shot into the corner of the net.

0:1. Viking FK was in the lead.

"Damn! Damn!" Zachary heard Coach Johansen cursing while the Viking under-19s celebrated. Rosenborg had dominated the game but was a goal down with thirty-two minutes to go.

Coach Johansen seemed frustrated. He looked towards the bench at Emil Røkke first and then Zachary Bemba, his eyes portraying his indecisiveness. He seemed to be considering which of the two midfielders he should bring on.

Zachary waited anxiously for the coach's decision. He understood that he would have more chances to perform, only when he entered the game early.

Coach Johansen sighed and said: "Zachary. Go, warm up first. You have only five minutes. Come here for instructions once you finish."

[Finally.] Zachary jubilated inwardly. He released a breath of pent up air before saying: "Yes, coach."

Call him sadistic, but he was even a little bit glad that his team was losing. Otherwise, he might have gotten less than ten minutes of play. He needed a game where he could make an impact. And the one where his team was losing was his best stage to impress the coaches.

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Enjoy the chapter. Gracias. Line-up for match to be posted on Discord: https/discord.gg/7mNvAaTtkf

22 First Match in Europe III

"Your job in this match is simple. I need you to shut down that winger." He said, pointing towards Yann-Erik.

The winger had just picked up another pass and begun dribbling into Rosenborg's half. He crossed the ball into the box from the side of the pitch, close to the touchline.

Luckily, Fredrik Midtsjö, one of the midfielders of Rosenborg, jumped high and blocked his cross. The referee blew his whistle and pointed to the corner flag.

"Tell Ole to adapt to the 4:3:3 formation..." the coach continued after seeing that the corner had been defended." As we did in training, Ole will remain the defensive midfielder, while Gjermund will move a little bit forward and serve the strikers. You'll have free rein along the entire center-line to get a better handle on Yann-Erik."

He gazed at Zachary for a moment with eyes full of skepticism.

"Is that clear to you, or do you need me to get the board?" He asked. The coach seemed to doubt Zachary's abilities to understand his instructions.

Zachary locked eyes with the coach and replied emphatically: "Yes, coach. I understand."

"Hope so," the coach muttered under his breath.

"You were tackling and intercepting passes during our training sessions. Just do the same on the pitch and shut down the damn kid." He slapped Zachary on the back, adding: "Go."

"DING"

No sooner had the coach slapped his back than the system interface popped up before him.

Zachary was a bit surprised and slowed down his pace as he matched towards the fourth official. He cast a glance at the translucent screen and noticed that there was a new mission from the system.

G.O.A.T MISSIONS

#NEW MISSION: Your Coach has given you an important task(s).

*Task 1: Shut down a stubborn player in the game.

*Task 2: Impress and gain your first fans.

'Accept' 'Reject'

*Rewards:

- 30 juju-points

*Punishment in case the mission is still incomplete at the end of the game. (None if you reject the mission now)

-Minus 40 Juju-Points.

*Remarks: Opportunities don't happen. You create them.

Zachary didn't hesitate to click on the accept button once he had finished perusing through the contents of the mission. It was the first mission with a hefty reward in juju-points. He had a feeling he would need them very soon.

Zachary had resolved to accumulate more points to upgrade the system. From his experience reading web-novels, he knew the system would become more helpful to the host after an upgrade.

Kristin was watching the game in the emptier section of the Stadium. The match had begun boring her after the Rosenborg under-19s got into a tricky situation.

She hated losses and always felt the compulsion to leave the venue of the game whenever her team was trailing. But then, she noticed that Zachary had started warming up on the sidelines.

A Cheshire cat's grin lit up her face like a tallow candle in a paper lamp. She considered him her first project, the first player she'd discovered at the genesis of her career as a scout. Kristin was looking forward to seeing how he would perform pitted against the Norwegian under-19s. Only then would she cast away all doubts about his talent.

"Is that your boy?" She heard Coach Nils Eggen asking her grandpa.

He was Rosenborg's longest-serving manager, having led the team for 22 seasons in five spurs between 1971 and 2010. He'd won the Tippeligaen in his inaugural season, leading the team for 13 of the club's 23 league-winning seasons. He had just won another league championship the previous year.

Although he was about to retire, Nils Eggen still had a lot of influence on Rosenborg's management. Kristin had once heard some rumors that his standing was comparable to that of the club chairman.

"Yes, that's him," Mr. Stein answered Coach Eggen's question.

"Oh, okay," Mr. Eggen replied before returning his attention to the match.

Zachary entered the pitch after the ball went out for a throw-in.

He'd come into the pitch as a substitute for another midfielder named Fredrik Midtsjö.

He jogged, resisting the pressure mounting on his chest. His legs felt heavy like he was wading through water. He felt very anxious since it was his first time playing on the European soccer stage.

He immediately ran to Ole and passed him the coach's instructions before moving to the left-midfield closer to the position of Yann-Erik—the winger of the Viking team.

He had resolved to complete the coach's assignment with all his effort. That was the only thought running through his mind at that moment.

In his previous life, he'd blundered when he came on as a substitute during his first professional match at TP Mazembe. He hadn't followed the coach's instructions and was substituted quickly after. He'd made a record of being the first substitute in the Linafoot league to be replaced without an injury.

But with a second chance presented to him, he would follow the coach's instructions to the letter. He wanted to enter the team first and establish his status. That was his target for that match. He would think about the issues concerning his style of play and career only when he successfully signed the contract with Rosenborg.

Gameplay resumed with Viking's throw to the right-wing.

Yann-Erik received the ball and played a one-two with Landu-Landu. They advanced towards the Rosenborg goal, weaving their way past Markus Henriksen, the left-winger, and were soon inside Rosenborg's half. Their short passes were neat and accurate, allowing them to advance towards the Rosenborg goal, unhampered. If the status-quo didn't change, Rosenborg would be in trouble.

However, Zachary had no intention of allowing them to do as they pleased. He'd noticed some shadows of both balls and human silhouettes flashing out of their bodies into different directions. The Zinedine-Visual-Juju was in action once more.

Zachary ran towards the wing while concentrating on Yann-Erik's sprinting figure. The winger had just received the ball and was dashing past Christoffer Aasbak, Rosenborg's left-back, with a flair of sidesteps.

Zachary then saw two human-shaped shadows flash out of the agile winger's form. One headed towards the corner flag after beating Christopher. The other cut the pitch diagonally—dashing towards the Rosenborg goal.

Zachary didn't need to deliberate for long about which route to defend. He had watched Yann-Erik's plays while he was on the bench and was sure that he would decide to cut inside. Moreover, if he got it wrong, he could still push the winger on a path away from the goal.

However, even the one second of deliberation on his part had allowed the agile winger to move past him. Zachary resolved to take the defender out without any delay.

Tunnel vision set in as he gauged the distance between the ball and his feet. Zachary's soccer brain, enhanced by his high A spatial awareness, was filled with deductions of the speed at which Yann-Erik was traveling. He was gauging the timing of his tackle.

Zachary increased his pace and caught up to the right-winger before sliding in and thrusting his right leg to meet the ball at the winger's feet.

He used his tackling leg to hook around the front, dispossess the ball, and shove it away from the attacker. The very smooth grass of the pitch made his tackling easier as he sent Yann-Erik tumbling to the ground.

Zachary felt all his anxiety fade as the ball broke away into open space before being collected by Christopher, the left-back. He'd come out as the winner in his first face off against an opponent in Europe.

"Ref... Ref..." Zachary heard Yann-Erik yelling as he rolled around in the grass, seemingly injured. However, the referee ignored him and waved for the game to continue. The tackle wasn't a foul since Zachary had won the ball fair and square before sweeping the winger. Otherwise, the nearby linesman would have waved his flag already.

Zachary grinned at the young winger before moving back into the left midfield. He intended to use all means possible to keep the prolific winger out of the game. Smiling at his defeated opponent after their brief battle was the best way of gloating he could think of that wouldn't attract the wrath of the referee.

Thanks for reading. Please do vote for the book. Yesterday, I was glad to receive a good number of power stones. Book is nearly in the top ten of new books. Have increased the word count today and managed to release two chapters. Gracias and enjoy.

creators' thoughts

23 First Match in Europe IV

As the game progressed, it became apparent to Kristin that Yann-Erik was losing his influence in the game. His every run into Rosenborg's half was interrupted by Zachary. The African boy was doing a good job even in the defensive role of the midfield.

Zachary didn't just mark the winger tightly and shadow his every move like what Landu-Landu was doing to Ole. He would move quickly into position when Rosenborg lost the ball and place himself between Yannick and his team's goal. When the winger ran ahead of him, he would use a sliding tackle to sweep away the ball.

His free reign in the midfield allowed him to help both wings when the Viking under-19s were attacking. The game reverted to a stalemate in the midfield after he stopped the runs of the agile winger.

Rosenborg played well with their wingers moving forward and flanking Mushaga, the formerly lone central striker. The two wingers were using their speed on the wings before cutting in towards the goal. They managed to threaten the Viking goal several times but were unable to seal the deal and score.

The 4-3-3 formation was working out well for the Troll Kids of Lerkendal.

But what worried Kristin the most was the score. The Rosenborg under-19s were still a goal down, yet the clock hand was already approaching the 80th minute.

If Rosenborg didn't score in the next few minutes, they would lose the game. That wouldn't look good on Zachary's CV and might affect his confidence.

"Your boy seems to be good at defending." She heard Coach Eggen say. "He has very sharp instincts and is reading the young winger like a history book. He would make a good center-back."

Mr. Stein sighed before saying: "That's not why I brought him to Rosenborg. He has something else—even much better?"

"Really?" Coach Eggen seemed surprised.

"Yes." Mr. Stein nodded. "He hasn't even displayed a quarter of his abilities. Coach Johansen is just using him in a position that doesn't suit him."

"What is his natural position?"

"The midfield," Mr. Stein replied. "But he should be in the attacking role rather than the defense. His passing abilities are simply phenomenal. He might even be better than Ole."

"It has been long since I heard you rate a player that highly." Coach Eggen smiled. "Now my interest is piqued," he added before returning his focus on the game.

As the match progressed, a chant grew from the stands behind Rosenborg's goalposts until it was a full-blown war song intended to fuel the performance of the Rosenborg players.

"Ohh. Shalalalalalala..., oh Rosenborg..." The fans sang as they jumped and danced to the rhythm defined by the clapping of their hands.

Zachary, on the pitch, was impressed by the passion of the Nordmenn in support of their team. The cheers of the fans excited his zeal to perform at his best and win the game.

He looked around and started observing the entire width of the pitch. The Viking keeper was about to take a goal-kick. The ball had just gone out after another failed attempt at goal by Rosenborg. The forwards of the Troll Kids had already missed more than a dozen clear chances to score.

The Viking goalkeeper kicked the ball high and sent it deep into Rosenborg's half. One of the center-backs of Rosenborg headed it back high into the midfield—towards Zachary's position.

He was the only one with any space to receive the ball since the Viking under-19s were marking all the other midfielders tightly. It seemed they had taken him for a mere defender with no ability to attack and left him unmarked.

Zachary shot forward and leaped up towards the incoming ball. He controlled it with his chest as a shiver erupted through his body. His feet hit the ground—and he took off towards the other half of the pitch.

He'd just noticed a clear white line running from his position through the pitch—towards the opponent's box. His A game-intelligence attributes (spatial-awareness and risk assessment) had just made him aware of a safe route to run with the ball. Zachary was determined to exploit the gap left by the Viking players in between the midfield.

Sweat poured down his face as his heart pounded in his chest. His lungs screamed for air as his feet flew across the green towards the box of the Viking team.

Two defenders in blue jerseys sprang in front of him. Zachary slowed down his pace a little before faking to the left but then accelerating and moving to the right with the ball remaining close to his feet. His dribbling was not anything fancy, just an occasional change of pace in his long strides allowing him to weave past the defenders. Zachary simply slowed down, getting the defenders to relax a second, then took off like the wind.

He managed to wriggle past the two defenders and continue towards the goal, shrugging off one chasing player before getting past two incoming sliding challenges.

Zachary unexpectedly found himself stepping into the 18-yard box with only one defender between him and the goalkeeper. A deft touch took him around the defender before he fired the ball in from an acute angle. He had nothing else in his vision but the goal.

However, he noticed the fingertips of the keeper brushing the ball and shoving it a little higher off its intended path. His heart leaped into his throat as he regretted not going for a carpet shot instead of a looped ball.

[Please go in.] He prayed inwardly.

However, his mood sank when he saw the ball hit the crossbar and rebound back into the pitch.

By reflex, Zachary turned around to chase it.

Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mushaga pounce on the loose ball near the penalty spot—and fire off a low shot into the middle of the empty net. Goal. 1:1.

The Rosenborg under-19s had managed to equalize in the 82nd minute.

Enjoy the second chapter for today. Hope to receive more power stones for motivation. Thank you for supporting the book. Line-ups posted on Discord Channel: https/discord.gg/7mNvAaTtkf.

creators' thoughts

24 First Match in Europe V

The cheers erupted like an auditory volcano in Lerkendal Stadium.

It was all quiet one second and then deafening after Mushaga scored the goal.

Mushaga didn't celebrate alone but ran up to Zachary, pulled him in a bear hug, and said: "That was a hell of a sprint. Thank you."

Before Zachary could reply, the other Rosenborg players came jumping on them and embracing them to celebrate the goal.

Zachary's lips curled into a smile as he tried to suppress his still bubbly emotions. It was all coming back to him at that moment. His crazy run through the midfield had led to an equalizer. He wasn't even sure how he managed to dribble past the four Viking players.

"Zachary, Ole. Come here." Zachary heard Coach Johansen yelling from the sidelines.

Zachary wasn't worried that the coach would query him for previously leaving his position. Scoring and winning games mattered the most to coaches. They would support players who could spot the gaps in between the opponent's formation and exploit them. Zachary had done just that.

And indeed, the coach had called them to receive more instructions on how to win the game. He didn't even reflect on the goal but started giving them new instructions.

"You two will form a triangle with Asen in the midfield. In the remaining seven minutes, I want you to press them hard and get another goal. Understood?"

"Yes, coach," the two boys replied.

"And Zachary. Do not try to dribble through the midfield once again. The Viking players will mark you tightly for the rest of the game. Use short passes instead."

Zachary nodded to indicate his assent. He chugged down some water before returning back to the pitch.

The Rosenborg under-19s were on fire after the game restarted.

Zachary followed Coach Johansen's instructions and used only short passes instead of dribbling.

Together with Ole and Asen, they formed a triangular midfield that dominated the ball possession. Zachary was much more involved in the passing and attacking than in the first half.

His only task was to receive passes from Ole, the defensive midfielder, and supply them to the one striker and the two wingers. The Viking midfielders couldn't keep him in check.

Zachary had managed to deliver several good through passes to the three forwards, but they still failed to score.

"As you said, the boy has a good game reading," Coach Eggen observed.

"Yes, he does," Mr. Stein replied, smiling. "Do you think we can fix him into the current under-19 squad?" He asked.

"How old is he?"

"His 16th birthday is on the 3rd of December."

"Martin." Mr. Eggen frowned. "He is still too young. We can't bring him into the club yet."

"But..."

"Martin, no buts." Coach Eggen interrupted the scout.

"While you were missing in action, FIFA introduced a new regulation. It prohibits international transfers involving underage players starting this year."

"Do those FIFA rules really matter? Clubs like Barcelona and Atletico Madrid in Spain have already signed young talents from all over the world this year."

"This time, they're serious about enforcing the regulations. If we don't comply and sign a minor, who's a foreigner, we'll be risking a transfer ban that could last a couple of seasons."

"That serious?"

"Yes." Coach Eggen nodded. "We received the first notice about the regulation last year. You were still in the hospital then."

"Then, how do we handle the boy? As you can see, he is very talented. We can't lose him."

"We'll send him to an affiliated academy until he turns eighteen. NF Academy is a good choice. FIFA will have no grounds to question us, as long as he is exclusively an amateur player. He will be on a scholarship, studying in one of the upper secondary schools here in Trondheim."

Coach Eggen smiled and added: "We basically won't have any association with him until he is an adult. We can include him in our roster when he turns 18. That's just a season away."

Mr. Stein sighed. "This regulation will mess up the opportunities of many talents from the developing nations. They will most likely waste away without proper training."

"You should already know about the previous cases of unscrupulous agents and organizations that were exploiting young talents from the developing nations. FIFA intends to reduce the number of children sent away by their families at the risk of being abandoned in Europe by such idiots."

"I already promised him that he would get to join the under-19s if he performed well in the match."

"Don't worry," Coach Eggen said, smiling. "The boy will be in good hands. The period until he turns 18 will allow him to refine his techniques further. This will be good for his development."

"I hope so." Mr. Stein sighed before focusing back on the match.

The game was still at a stalemate, with two minutes, minus additional time, remaining.

Rosenborg was always on the attack, pressing the Viking under-19s in their half.

Jonas Svensson had just delivered a tricky cross into the box. However, it had been cleared out of play by one of Viking's center-backs.

It was another goal-scoring opportunity from a corner for the Rosenborg under-19s.

Most of Zachary's teammates headed into Viking's box to attack the ball from the corner. Soon, more than 16 players were tangling within the box as they waited anxiously for the corner to be taken. Most were pushing and pulling at the shirts of their opponents.

The referee only managed to keep them in check by giving out yellow cards to two of the Viking players.

Zachary remained back—just a few yards out of the box. He didn't join the fray. He wanted to try out his arrow shot from the edge of the box.

But then he heard Coach Johansen yelling from the sidelines: "Zachary, head into the box and attack the corner. Why are you sleeping outside the box?"

Zachary hesitated, wanting to remain in his position. He could easily take a shot at the goal from there.

"Are your ears filled with lint? Head over into the box right now," Coach Johansen hollered at him, seeming angry.

Zachary sighed and headed into the box after a few seconds of deliberation. He would rather lose the game than antagonize a coach at the start of his career in Europe.

Zachary would have stayed in his position if he was sure that he would score from the edge of the box.

However, the Zinedine-Visual-Juju wasn't 100% perfect. It involved some guessing and deducing the path of the ball based on the observation of the juju-shadows and his game intelligence. If Zachary disobeyed the coach and missed out on scoring, he would be in deep trouble.

When he entered the box, a tall Viking player was instantly on him, shadowing his every step. Zachary ignored him and concentrated on Jonas, the winger, taking the corner at that moment.

Since he was already in the opponent's box, he wanted to try his best to score.

However, the cross from Jonas Svensson was nothing special. The ball came in high and was directly heading into the outstretched arms of the leaping goalkeeper.

The opportunity seemed lost—and players of both sides started relaxing.

But Zachary wasn't among them.

He'd just noticed that the hands of the Viking goalkeeper were in a peculiar position. The keeper was aiming for the contour catch, whereby his hands could cradle the ball, with the thumbs and index fingers forming a "W" behind it. However, the gap between his wrists was slightly wider than the diameter of the ball.

Any other player would have missed the small detail, but not Zachary. Using his Zinedine-Visual-Juju, he'd already deduced that the keeper would drop the ball.

So he moved in for the kill.

He ran away from his marker—towards the Viking goalkeeper.

And his vision didn't disappoint him.

The keeper ended up mishandling the ball, allowing Zachary to pick up the round gift before slotting it into the back of the net to make it 2:1. GOAL!

A terrible mistake by the keeper had led to the goal.

Kasongo watched his friend score his first goal in Europe.

He was cheering along with the rest of the enthusiastic fans in the stands behind Rosenborg's goal. They pumped their fists into the air as they soared to new heights of emotion.

Zachary's goal had shocked him since it came out of the blue, from a seemingly lost chance.

His achievement made Kasongo want to get on the pitch, to train. If Zachary could do it, so could he. Maybe not at first. But with relentless training and determination, he would succeed.

Kasongo wished to go back and train right away. However, he wanted to see whether his friend could do any more wonders in the game.

He continued watching the game until it ended with the score of 2:1 in favor of Rosenborg.

Thank you for reading. Could only post now. Sorry for the delay in the release. Remember to vote. Thanks.

creators' thoughts

25 Housemates

The sun had sunk lower in the sky, the light of day draining away, giving way to the velvety dark of night.

Zachary walked back home with his shoulders drooping, his brows creased, and his face tense as he replayed his conversation with Mr. Stein after the match.

He'd just learned he wouldn't be able to join the professional soccer stage until he was 18. That implied he still had a year and a few months before he could obtain his player's license to play in Norway.

The bureaucrats, based in Zürich, had decided to enforce a new regulation to prohibit the transfer of youth talents from developing Nations, claiming to be protecting the rights of minors. Zachary wondered how the rights of the prospective players would be protected when some had nothing to eat in their home countries. He was disgruntled.

With FIFA's new rules, there was not a chance that he could receive a license before he became an adult. Zachary remembered that some of the top clubs, such as Barcelona, had incurred the wrath of the world's football governing body because they'd signed minors during his previous life.

[Seems like I'll have to delay my plans for a bit.] He mused.

Zachary had hoped to join the under-19s after having a good game that day. He would have then gotten a lot of playing time and built up his skills and experience in official matches. But all that was no longer possible due to the damn FIFA rule.

[Maybe, I can focus on my personalized training during the period before I turn pro.] Zachary sighed.

He'd been keen on training some new skills which would benefit his career. However, he had always been busy preparing for the trial in Lubumbashi and then his move to Norway. However, he now had plenty of time to hone his skills.

With the facilities present in Trondheim, he could upgrade his fitness and refine his techniques to a higher level. His goal was to turn most of his attributes into A-grades within a year. With a system that could help along the way, he was confident that he would turn into a monster by the time he debuted for Rosenborg.

Occupied by his plans, Zachary made it to Moholt a few minutes later. He was already feeling better, regaining his post-match jubilant mood, after the short walk through the cold evening air.

As he was about to enter his apartment, he was surprised to hear several unfamiliar voices from behind the door. It was always just him and Kasongo in the kitchen, especially during the evening.

He opened the door only to find two blonde Caucasians seated on one side of the dining table. Kasongo was comfortable in one of the other chairs, engaged in a chat with them.

"Wow, there comes our star," one of the Caucasians, with brown hair, exclaimed once he noticed Zachary standing in the doorway. He stood up and rushed to Zachary before extending his hand for a handshake. "Nice to meet you. I am Paul Otterson." He grinned.

Zachary returned the handshake. "Zachary Bemba. Nice to meet you too." He looked towards Kasongo for clarification. He wanted to know who the strangers in their apartment were.

Paul Otterson noticed his confusion and beat Kasongo to a reply. "We're your other two housemates." He laughed. "I'm in room 1, and Kendrick, over there, is in the other room."

"Oh," Zachary said. "So, you are the two academy players from Sweden?" He was enlightened. Mr. Stein had mentioned something about their housemates from Sweden being away on holiday.

Zachary was surprised. The boy before him looked more like a movie star rather than an athlete. His short light brown hair was particularly curly and artfully tousled, matching his arched brows and sharp cheekbones that were perfectly angular. He seemed like one of those pretty-boy types in teenage romance movies to Zachary.

"Yes, that is us," Paul replied, pointing at his pointed nose. His square chin, coupled with his small eye slits, combined to create intense facial expressions—like he was peeved about something all the time. However, the boy seemed like he was the more cheerful and fun-loving person among the two Caucasians.

"We have been in Trondheim for a year already. We had just gone on holiday. I watched your game—and your run was simply magic. How did you manage to do it?" He asked.

Before Zachary could reply, the other Caucasian cut in. "Paul. Give the guy a break. He's just from a match. He should be tired."

He stood up and moved towards Zachary. "Kendrick Otterson. Nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand. The Swede looked like one of those Zenned-out folks, the modern-day hippie types, with his long shoulder-length brown hair loosely framing his face. His scruffy beard did much to help the impression along. His downcast ocean blue eyes and his quiet, thoughtful demeanor, seeming to communicate a certain innocence about his person.

"Nice to meet you." Zachary returned his handshake, nodding. "You two are brothers?" He asked.

Both had ocean blue eyes and shared a common last name. But their other traits were nothing alike. Kendrick was taller—about six feet, and more muscular than Paul. Zachary couldn't easily confirm whether they were close relatives from just their looks.

"Yes, we are," Paul was quick to answer. "Do we look alike?" He asked, putting an arm around Kendrick's broad shoulders. The latter pushed him away before returning to his seat.

"Such a bore," Paul mumbled, shaking his head like an aged man.

He turned to face Zachary and asked: "Have you eaten?"

"Nope," Zachary replied. Since Mr. Stein had summoned him right after the match, he didn't get time to eat the post-match snacks with the team.

"Great." Paul clapped his hands excitedly. "Let's eat together. I've cooked Lasagna." He announced.

Fifteen minutes later, the group of four settled on the four-seater dining table to have their dinner. Zachary was surprised to find the lasagna cooked by Paul delicious. The salty pasta layers it had, spiced up by the hot sauce, was simply amazing. Its scent was simply intoxicating and mouth-watering when Zachary cut apiece off and shoved it into his mouth.

Kasongo, the outspoken boy, took a bite of the lasagna, cheesy with dark leafy greens. He smiled, "Paul, that's so good."

With a boyish grin, the Swede raised his brows, opening up his eyes, "Obviously. Any food I touch is a work of art." He emphasized. He seemed like one of those narcissistic pretty boys who usually bullied people in high school movies. "So, the two of you are from Africa?"

"Yes," Kasongo replied after swallowing a mouthful of food. "The Democratic Republic of Congo, to be specific," he emphasized, smiling.

"Is that near Didier Drogba's country?"

Zachary's mouth twitched noticeably after hearing Paul's question. DR Congo was thousands of miles away from Ivory Coast. He wondered how a person would ask whether the two were neighbors.

"Hell, no." Kasongo shook his head. "Congo is at the center of the African Continent, bordering countries like Sudan, Uganda, and Tanzania."

"Haven't heard of any player from there," Paul mumbled. "But I know Uganda. Was it the country in the Last King of Scotland?"

"Yes, we border Uganda, the country in the movie," Kasongo concurred. "So, which positions do you two play?" Kasongo skillfully diverted the topic away from his home country.

"I play as a forward and a winger," Paul replied before looking towards Kendrick—who was quietly eating his food. The boy had been silent for a large part of the evening.

"Goalkeeper," Kendrick answered after noticing that his brother was glancing at him.

Zachary couldn't recall any players with the name Otterson—who played the two positions on the Swedish team during his previous life. They were probably not famous in his past life.

"What about you?" Paul turned towards Kasongo.

"I can play on any wing," Kasongo replied.

"Are you as good as Zachary?" Paul asked, his eyes looking expectantly at Kasongo.

"Not yet." Kasongo sighed, smiling ruefully. "But I'll be in a short time."

"That's the spirit, brother." Paul nodded. "I'm the same. I want to join the Rosenborg under-19s as soon as possible. By the way, Zach, which number did you get on the Rosenborg team?" He looked at Zachary, seated opposite him. Kendrick and Kasongo also glanced at him with their eyes glittering with expectation.

"I haven't yet joined the under-19s..." Zachary explained the whole FIFA regulation about not allowing foreign under-18 players to obtain a professional license away from their home country.

"Damn! That's unfair." Kasongo shouted when he heard Zachary's narrative.

"Don't worry about the license for the meantime," Paul consoled. "We have been here for over a year, and yet we have no prospects of receiving a license before we turn 18. Scandinavian Clubs are very strict, especially with rules concerning minors."

"But be assured that your time here will pass very fast," Paul continued. "You'll have to attend the mandatory secondary school education here in Trondheim while also undergoing the hectic day to day training in the academy."

"You two are in upper secondary. Right?" Zachary asked.

"Yes," Paul replied. "We are attending the Trøndelag International School. It is the school where the NF academy sends its students for their academic education. The coaches will most likely send you there after you complete the academy registration procedures."

"Do we have to pass all the subjects to stay in the academy?" Kasongo asked, frowning.

"Yes." Paul nodded emphatically. "You have to at least perform above average to stay on scholarship. But don't worry. The school designs our learning timetables to fit our training schedules. It has a collaborative initiative with Rosenborg to train young football talents in Trondheim."

The Swede went on to explain the schedules of training at the academy to Zachary and Kasongo. In addition to the daily routine soccer training, the players had a chance to participate in international training camps and under-17 competitions if they performed well. The NF Academy team had even participated in the SIA Cup of Valencia and the Riga Cup of Latvia during the previous year. At such competitions, there were junior teams of the top clubs like Manchester City, Valencia, and PSV participating.

Zachary was pleased with the offered packages by the academy and could not wait to start his training.

After the hearty meal with his new housemates, he headed back to his room to rest for the night and prepare for the academy registration the next day. He was already dosing as the match had tired him out.

Just out of habit, he opened the system interface to check out his mission completion status for that day's match. But when he opened the G.O.A.T-missions tab, his eyes widened in shock as he perused through its contents.

Thanks for reading and supporting the book. Pls. Remember to vote. I'm back to the strenuous part of character design. Couldn't post yesterday because of this. Hopefully, you will get to like the new characters. Enjoy. (Will try to add in a few chapters during the coming week to compensate for yesterday.)

creators' thoughts

26 New Perks from the System

#8 new messages

CONGRATULATIONS

- You have completed the mission (Important tasks from Coach Johansen).

-Mission-Rewards

1) 30 Juju-points

-Mission Summary

*Task 1: Shut down a stubborn player in the game. (Complete shutdown achieved; Rating S)

*Task 2: Impress and gain your first fans. (Staunch fans gained = 16; Casual fans gained = 721; Rating S)

Overall Mission Rating: S

-Bonus rewards

You have earned 30 bonus Juju-points

Zachary had expected the completion grade to be an S. He'd toiled hard in the game, thereby producing an assist that led to an equalizer and scoring the winning goal. He expected an S rating for his match performance. However, what caught him by surprise was the message blinking in red below the mission completion notification.

CONGRATULATIONS

- You have completed the hidden-mission (Create match-winning opportunities during your first game in Europe).

-Mission-Rewards

1) One-year dosage of C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir sent to system inventory (temporarily-unlocked).

-Mission Summary

*Analysis: You played like a potential G.O.A.T and managed to grab on to the rare opportunities, leading your team to victory.

*You executed the task so well and managed not to antagonize your Coach even though you continuously moved out of your position.

Match Statistical Rating: 9.2/10

Overall Mission Rating: S

-Bonus rewards

You have earned 30 bonus Juju-points

Zachary felt pumped, excited, and more alive after perusing through the G.O.A.T missions status tab.

He shook off all the drowsiness that had almost enveloped his psyche after taking a glance at the rewards. The additional 30 Juju-points were a handsome reward for him at that juncture. He then had a total of 107 Juju-points that were more than enough to level up the system. He couldn't wait to see how the system would evolve after leveling it up.

However, Zachary was not a very impatient person. He decided to first check out the Physical Conditioning Elixir before upgrading the system. The system's elixirs had played a key role in improving his soccer skills. He was optimistic about the new elixir's effects.

Zachary closed the G.O.A.T-Missions tab and opened the System-Shop.

*SYSTEM SHOP

-Gift Packs (temporarily-unlocked) (2 msg)

-Purchase Skills (locked)

-Purchase Elixirs (locked)

-Lottery Coupons (locked)

-Inventory (temporarily-unlocked) (1 msg)

Both the Gift-Pack and Inventory tabs were blinking red. Zachary right away clicked on the former—as it contained descriptions and instructions on how to use the items from the system. Zachary sought to understand the usage of the Physical Conditioning Elixir before retrieving it from the system.

"DING"

GIFT PACKS (temporarily-unlocked)

#2 new messages

CONGRATULATIONS

-You have received a System Gift: One-year dosage of C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir.

*Each dose contains all the required macro and micronutrients to support the user's weekly high-intensity training.

*The elixir can improve all aspects of physical fitness, depending on the training plan and intensity over the given period.

*Please select the associated gift-card every week in the Inventory to retrieve the dosage of the elixir.

NB:

*To receive the reward, the user must agree to complete the new system mission; Progressive Overload Fitness Training.

*The user can only retrieve a new dosage after meeting the training requirements of the previous week.

*The user must consume the doses within five seconds after removal from the system shop.

- If the user agrees with the terms and conditions, he can right away retrieve this week's dosage of the elixir from the Inventory.

Zachary bounced and hopped around his room on his flexing feet and rubbed his hands together after reading the system's message. His facial expression at that moment was that of a small child with an especially—large Christmas present. He could hardly contain his happiness.

The system's reward for the hidden-mission was what he desired to advance his skills and compete with the top professional players in the European leagues.

Zachary understood that soccer was one of the most physically demanding of all sports. His coaches in his previous life had always emphasized the importance of proper feeding when training. That was why most professional sports clubs employed food and nutrition specialists to monitor their players' diets.

Zachary needed to meet the required energy requirements of his long-term training plans to improve his physical fitness. Failure to meet those increased energy needs, especially with the recommended quality of nutrition, would significantly increase the risk of impaired training status. He would end up not getting the results he deserved from the training routines.

However, the system had saved Zachary from all that hustle by providing him with a dosage of Physical Conditioning Elixir. Moreover, it had also designed a mission that contained weekly tasks for his progressive overload fitness training. He no longer needed to wait and consult his coaches before beginning his fitness training. He only needed to follow the training plan of the system.

After calming down, Zachary closed the Gift-Pack tab and opened the system-inventory to retrieve his reward. A card with an image of a yellow banana filled up the screen once he opened the system-inventory. He didn't deliberate for long and just clicked on the gift card to retrieve his weekly dosage. He was already used to the system's elixirs being in the form of fruits.

"DING"

No sooner had he tapped on the gift card than the familiar system notification sounded in his mind as a description of a new mission populated the screen before him.

G.O.A.T MISSIONS

#NEW MISSION: One-Year Progressive Overload Fitness Training

*Task 1: Run a distance of 35 miles within a week (10 miles must involve high-intensity running exercises in the outdoor environment).

*Task 2: Complete 100 dumbbell (15 kg) squat-and-press routines (Click here to watch instructional video).

*Task 3: Complete 60 single-leg-squats (30 for each leg) daily for a week (Click here to watch instructional video).

*Task 4: Complete 60 push-ups daily for a week.

*Task 5: Complete four rounds of half a dozen Hatha-Yoga poses daily for a week (Click here to watch instructional video).

*Rewards:

- Next week's dosage of the C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir

- 5 Juju-points

*Punishment in case the mission is still incomplete after the stipulated time.

-Loss of a monthly dosage of the Physical Conditioning Elixir

*Remarks: It takes sweat and determination to become a G.O.A.T since the only place where success comes before 'work' is in the dictionary.

-The user has to accept the mission before retrieving the reward.

Accept Reject

Zachary felt overwhelmed after perusing through the mission tasks. The physical training routines would take up roughly three hours of his time daily. Even worse, the exercises would expend much of his stamina and might even worsen the results of his technical soccer training at the academy. Too much of anything was good for nothing.

However, after thinking about the benefits of the C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir, he right away clicked on the accept button. What was there to fear when he possessed the dietary booster from the system?

"DING"

The system notification sounded as the mission description disappeared and the gift card with the yellow banana once again appeared. Zachary didn't hesitate to click on it. A mini-sized yellow banana popped out of the card, into the physical world as soon as Zachary's finger left the translucent blue screen.

Zachary swallowed it right away.

Hello readers. Thank you for your continued support of the book. A slight dip in my health left me unable to update for three days. But I have now almost recovered and will begin posting daily.

-Some notes about the chapter.

Most of the training drills in the new system mission are standard fitness training exercises for professional soccer players. A simple google search will deliver plenty of videos on how such exercises are carried out.

But for clarification, I'll post the videos of the different exercises in the books Discord Server: https/discord.gg/7mNvAaTtkf

27 Life at the Academy I

Thursday, August 25, 2011.

A year had passed already, almost in a blur as Zachary underwent professional soccer training at the NF Academy.

He had managed to secure a full scholarship from the academy after the match against the Viking FK under-19s. Zachary was then an officially registered sports scholarship student in Norway.

His day usually started with physical fitness training each day, involving gym-work and running exercises, from 6 AM to 9 AM. He would then spend five hours at Trøndelag International School, going through his upper secondary education classes to maintain his sports scholarship. Luckily, the school days were only on weekdays, from 10 AM to 3 PM, and didn't tire him out.

Immediately after his classes, he would practice the agility and stamina drills in the NF training grounds near Moholt before attending the technical and tactical soccer classes conducted by the coaching staff on-field or in one of the auditoriums of the academy.

Zachary was usually as tired as a dog when he ended his day at 8 PM and headed back to his apartment to rest for the night.

His day-to-day timetable was jam-packed except for the small breaks at lunch and dinner or when he was sleeping. Zachary had been made aware of how gruesome a task it was to maintain a strict daily routine over a long time. He had almost failed the system mission during the harsh winter months of December and January.

Due to the extreme coldness, Zachary had lacked the motivation and zeal to wake up from bed and head to the gym or go jogging in those months. He only persevered due to the C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir.

The elixir was beyond marvelous. With just a dose, Zachary would have enough energy to go through the physical training routines set-up by the system every week.

His weekly tasks often involved weight training—mostly with dumbbells, forward-backward sprints, lateral-band walks, medicine ball push-ups, among other routines. Occasionally, when he trained with either a pair of dumbbells or going through the fitness drills, he would feel his muscles strengthening and becoming more flexible. But most of the time, Zachary felt like he was only tiring himself out.

Nonetheless, he didn't stop his training. The significance of the progressive overload training designed by the system was cumulative—but not always obvious. He had maintained a strict schedule of completing all the system tasks to better himself as a professional sportsman. His goal was to become one of the best in his age group—by the time he debuted for Rosenborg.

On that day, Zachary was going through a routine of physical conditioning to complete the system mission when Coach Boyd Johansen abruptly barged in, surprising all the under-17s that were busy exercising.

"I can't believe that some of you haven't even mastered the basic dumbbell bench step-up exercise," Coach Boyd Johansen grumbled. He pulled at his overgrown red beard in frustration as he walked around the gym, supervising some of the under-17 group of players, exercising with the 25kg-dumbbells.

"The physical fitness coaches have already explained these exercises again and again over the past year," he continued. "You should by now be performing them by reflex. But I see several good-for-nothings who can't even complete a set of bench step-ups!" The coach exclaimed, shaking his head.

"Here comes the cranky old man," Paul Otterson, running on a treadmill close to Zachary, mumbled. "I wonder what he's doing here at this time."

"Shhhhh..." Kasongo, who was going through a dumbbell squat-and-press routine, sashed him. "Be careful. He may hear you. What awaits you then would be expulsion from the academy."

"Paul. You'll face dire consequences once you keep running your mouth like that." Kendrick Otterson, jumping a rope nearby, emphasized. His long brown hair lay like a second skin over his flushed cheeks—and he looked as if he was just—caught in a sudden storm. He wore the sweat from exercising the same way a hero wears rain.

Paul snorted at his brother. "Stop treating me like a kid. I know what I'm doing. He is busy with those other lazy bums and can't hear us."

"Suit yourself." Kendrick scowled at Paul angrily. "The good thing is that I already warned you multiple times. If the coach cuts you from the program, don't run back home crying." He harrumphed, continuing his rope skipping.

Zachary didn't break his exercising routine to listen to his flat-mates' bickering or his coach's grumbling. He was already used to that over the past year spent with them.

He continued his high-intensity interval training on one of the treadmills in the gym. The sweat cooled his skin and brought a deeper hue to his green jersey, yet that is how he knew everything would work out, that he would remain in good shape and proud of himself as an athlete.

"Zach!" Paul called out as he hopped off his exercising machine and approached Zachary's treadmill. "What are the sprinting speeds and resting intervals for the exercise you are doing?"

"I first set the treadmill at a speed of 2 mph for 5 minutes to warm up," Zachary answered without pausing his jog on the machine. "I then adjusted it to the highest speed at 9 to 10 mph for 70 seconds and later reduced to 3 to 4 mph for 30 seconds. I'll have to repeat the same routine 20 times to complete my training for today." He stammered as he gasped for breath.

"Zach! Aren't you overtaxing your body?" Paul asked, his brows creased. "You shouldn't be running at such peak speeds for more than 30 seconds. Will you be able to train in the evening?"

"Paul!" Kasongo cut in. "Man, leave him alone. The other day, he sprinted from Moholt to Lerkendal in eight minutes. That means he was covering roughly 400m per minute. Do you think that the simple running on a treadmill will faze him?"

"F*k!" Paul exclaimed. "This guy is a monster with such stamina. I'm just wondering why the coaches are not selecting him for the under-17 matches. FIFA wouldn't care whether he played for the academy. He's not part of Rosenborg and just a student studying in Norway." Paul whispered, moving closer to Kasongo. "Do you know why?"

"He doesn't say why!" Kasongo replied as he put down his dumbbells. "I think it is something to do with the arrangements of the Rosenborg officials. I'm guessing they don't want to expose him to their competitors before he joins the team. I would do the same if I were the coach. I would hate to lose him to some other team before he plays for me."

"The curse of being overly talented," Paul sighed. "Makes me hate FIFA rules even more. The guy should be on the bench of the first team already." He shook his head. "Kasongo! Are you done with your physical training for today?"

"Yes." The short guy nodded, picking up a bottle of water from his backpack. "We have been here since six o'clock. Three hours are enough for me." He grinned before chugging down some water.

"Don't you guys get tired of waking up at such early morning hours? We are only required to be here at 8 o'clock!"

"Man, I'm only trying to copy the training plan from my role model." Kasongo laughed, patting Paul's shoulder. "Although I can't match his crazy work rate, I'm still benefiting from following in his footsteps."

"Oh. Wake me up too when you guys are going for training next time," Paul said.

"Me too," Kendrick also chipped in as he joined the group.

"You want to wake up at six?" Paul laughed at his brother's request.

"I need to improve my fitness," Kendrick sighed. "Grant is already far ahead. He's benching me in all the games."

"Then, you'll wake up at six?"

"Yes." Kendrick nodded emphatically. "Don't look at me like that. I'm serious this time. I'll even be changing to a smaller mattress this week to prevent myself from oversleeping."

"I'll pray for you." Paul patted his brother's back. "I do hope you achieve your dream."

"A dream of waking up at six," Kasongo chimed in before bursting into laughter. Paul joined him. The two had tried to wake up Kendrick at seven o'clock in the morning multiple times. However, the lad would always be sleeping like a log.

"But Zach is a monster." Kendrick sighed, ignoring the irony of the two chatterboxes. "Where does he get all that stamina?" He exclaimed as he glanced towards Zachary's treadmill.

28 Life at the Academy II

Zachary let himself step off the treadmill when the sweat settled on his skin as newly melted snow crystals. His legs were empty—and there was a rising feeling of nausea from his stomach.

It never ceased to amaze him how the muscles that had been working so hard only seconds ago were then struggling to hold his weight. He relaxed for a few seconds before jumping on the exercising machine once again to restart the high-intensity routine.

Zachary only had that single exercise remaining to complete the system mission he had been toiling with for over a year.

He was glad about the training plans designed by the system. The high-intensity interval-training mimicked the rhythms of a real football match—where a player might quickly switch between walking around the pitch and sprinting into the box.

He had been undergoing the routine for more than six months to condition his body to adapt to an efficient way of using oxygen and prepare for the sudden change of pace in games.

The system had been gradually increasing the frequency or number of repetitions in his running routines on the treadmill.

For instance, the system had assigned him the weekly task of 30-second high-speed sprints repetitions on the treadmill, spaced with 1-minute resting intervals during the first three months of the mission. The next months, the missions comprised shorter and shorter resting intervals to increase the exercising intensity.

Zachary continuously increased the stress on his musculoskeletal system to gain muscle size, strength, and endurance. And his efforts had paid off over the year of training. He was stronger physically compared to the previous year.

Zachary was sure that he could hold his own in a physical battle against the strongest Rosenborg under-19s. He was itching for an official match to test his skills.

Zachary had been in a good mood when his body was getting stronger as the months progressed. On a treadmill, he always felt fast up there, exhilarated. To feel his strength, to feel his own body flying at such speeds before slowing down, it fed back right into the soul and kept his inner flames healthy and bright.

"DING"

The system notification sounded when he was on his eighteenth routine of the high-intensity exercise. That was music to Zachary's ears as it indicated that he had finished the final task of the one-year progressive overload fitness training mission.

Before he knew it, Zachary was smiling a little, a smile with a twist to it, like the smile of a child who was determined not to weep. He was feeling the agony of the intensive exercise coupled with the happiness from completing the system mission. The two combined to bring him a sadistic euphoria.

However, he didn't pause to open the system interface. He continued running on the treadmill—until he completed the twenty routines of the high-intensity training for the day.

"Okay, boys. First, come here," Coach Johansen hollered from the stretching and mobility area of the gym. He was in his usual unique style outfit—in a baggy black Nike tracksuit.

"This is rare," Paul commented. "The coach is giving a talk early in the morning. There may be something important coming up."

"Like a match? Or more like the cutting of certain players!" Kasongo frowned.

"Stop speculating," Kendrick cut in. "Let's head over and see what he has to say." He turned towards Zachary—who had just stepped off the treadmill before asking: "Are you coming?"

"Of course." Zachary smiled. He reached out and took out a bottle of water from his backpack before chugging down some water. "Oh, that was refreshing." He sighed in between gasps of breath.

The three-hour exercising had already tired him out. But Zachary wasn't worried. He would recover his stamina in a few hours due to the dosage of the physical conditioning elixir he had consumed earlier that week.

"Let's go and hear what the coach has to say this time," he said to his flat-mates after he'd steadied his breathing.

"Is everyone here?" Coach Johansen asked, his gaze roaming across the sixteen players seated in the middle of the gym.

"Sir," Coach Bjørn Peters said. "I've already taken roll call—and everyone is here." He was a man of middling height with a stern face and deep-set eyes. His regular gym work-outs made his chest, arms, and shoulders laden with muscle making him resemble a bodybuilder instead of a soccer coach.

"Great." Coach Johansen nodded. "I'm glad you're now taking your physical training seriously. Had anyone been absent without reason, they would have faced the ax today."

"I hope it's a good morning for everyone here!" The Coach continued. "Moving on. You lot will be undergoing annual reviews in the next two weeks. We want to assess your progress over the past twelve months. So, we have organized two matches where you can showcase the fruits of your training for the past year."

"Next Friday, you play against the Rosenborg under-19 team combined with the reserves team. The Friday after that, you'll face off against the senior team of Rosenborg. Aren't you excited?" The coach grinned, glancing around the gym.

"Playing against the Rosenborg senior team for our review! How are we supposed to perform against experienced players? The academy officials are not serious..." The murmuring of the players intensified the already tense atmosphere in the gym.

"Quiet," Coach Johansen bellowed, creasing a brow. "This is an opportunity for you. The Rosenborg officials will be watching. You have a chance to make it into the Reserve team or even be spotted by the head coach. What are you afraid of?"

"As long as you have improved, you don't need to fear playing against the reserve or the senior team of Rosenborg," the coach continued. "We don't expect you to win, but to perform at your best even when facing players above your level. That will be a valuable experience for your budding football career."

The players around the gym settled down after hearing his peroration. Although they seemed to be worried, they couldn't force the coach to change the annual review. They just had to swallow their anger and anxiety.

But Zachary was different. He wanted to test his skills against high-level players. Only then would Zachary gauge his progress and determine whether his skills were already good enough to join the professional league. Moreover, he was hungry for matches since he hadn't played a single official game in a year.

"Coach!" One of the players raised his arm after the coach had finished making his announcement.

"Yes. You can ask your question, Martin." Coach Johansen nodded at the player.

"How many of the under-17s need to be cut from the team after this review?" The lanky, gangling boy asked.

"You know I can't tell you that." Coach Johansen grinned. "But we need very few players from your team to join the under-19 group. However, if you all play a shitty game, then you'll all be cut from the team. So, do your best."

"Any more questions?"

All the players remained silent.

"Okay, great." The coach smiled. "Let's meet at the NF training grounds at 3:30 PM today. We'll start our pre-match training then—so don't be late."

Thanks for reading and continued support of the book. Here is an extra chapter as I try to compensate for the days missed posting. Enjoy.

creators' thoughts

29 Life at the Academy III

After the gym work-out, Zachary and his flatmates rode their bikes towards TIS—the Trøndelag International School.

He had gotten used to riding his bike outdoors for hours over the course of the past year. Riding a bike was liberating for him. It had become his go-to way of moving quickly through the streets of Trondheim.

"F*k! When will this rain stop?" Paul, who was riding beside him, cursed out loud as they rounded a corner and headed into a narrow tarmac road connecting Festningsgata main-street to their school.

The rain poured down from the white—velvety sky steadily and softly. The days in Trondheim were beginning to wane—as the inevitable cold winter neared, each nightfall happening sooner than the one before. The warm days of summer were long past.

"Stop complaining and just ride," Kendrick snapped from behind Zachary. "It's almost 10, and we're almost late for class."

"Okay, Okay," Paul yelled, glancing back at his brother. "Let's race to see who'll reach the school gate first. The loser cleans the bathroom this week." He grinned from ear to ear.

"Fellas, is it a deal?" He asked, bringing his bike to a sudden halt. The other three followed suit and braked beside him.

"Deal." Kasongo and Kendrick nodded in unison before readying themselves to start the race.

"What about you?" Paul turned towards Zachary as he fastened his jacket. The Swede was also preparing for the small race.

"I'll race," Zachary replied. "But no punishments or cleaning the bathroom for the loser. We have got to maintain a strict rotation of who cleans the apartment each week. That's the only fair way."

"Zach." Paul sighed. "You're no fun."

"Let's just race without the punishment," Kendrick cut in, concurring with Zachary.

"This time, I'm winning," Kasongo said, gripping the handlebars of his bike more tightly.

"You wish..."

"Guys," Kendrick interrupted, his tone impatient. "We need to get to school before class starts."

"Three, two, one... and go," Paul yelled before taking off and moving ahead of the others. The other boys followed suit. Their bicycle wheels rolled over the wet track, their speed bringing the cold rain splattering into their faces much harder than it would have if they had just walked. Their waterproof outer-wear had long failed at keeping their bodies dry, leaving their trunks as wet as their legs.

Their race through the rain managed to get them to the school gate in less than four minutes. Kendrick Otterson was first, his brother second, Zachary third, and Kasongo last.

Zachary never ceased to be amazed by just how fast his two Swedish housemates could go on their bikes though they were much slower than him on foot. He occasionally mused on how they might have been better off as professional cyclists rather than soccer players.

"I win again," Kendrick declared as they passed through the gate and entered the school grounds.

"My bike was not in the best condition." Kasongo sighed. "Otherwise, I would have covered the distance in less than a minute," he added in a serious tone. The others ignored him since it was not the first time he had blamed a loss on his equipment.

They rode quietly across the school grounds at moderate speed. The courtyard was a richly planted garden with walkways of smooth white stone set in several meandering paths across it. Due to the rain, no students were lounging at the benches, talking, reading, or eating packed snacks. It seemed they were all in the three buildings, 3-stories high, surrounding the expansive u-shaped courtyard.

Zachary parked his bike in the bike-room and removed his outer waterproof clothing. He then followed his flatmates through the large glass doors—into the building containing his classroom.

On the inside, a hubbub of conversation from the students hustling and bustling down the corridors assaulted him. They seemed to be in one of the ten-minute breaks at the end of each lesson. A crowd of vibrant young students of various nationalities filled up the hallways. The chaos was perfect, like a movie. Friends greeted each other with hugs—or playful punches while newcomers stood looking scared.

Most of the students gave way when Zachary and his flatmates passed through the hallway heading to the stairs at the far end of the building. Sports students on scholarship garnered a great deal of respect from their peers. Zachary had rarely faced any bullying despite being relatively new to the school.

But there were always exceptions to the norm.

As they ascended the stairs to the next floor, a group of students, one year their seniors, blocked their advance. Grant Anderson, the substitute goalkeeper of the Rosenborg under-19s, descended the stairs ahead of his small entourage of three, his lips curling into a wide grin.

"Well, well—what do we have here?" He said. "Two wannabees from a third world sh*thole accompanied by their two loser friends. What can I say? Rosenborg has fallen really far to list you as one of its potential players." His sycophants laughed at the comment like they had just listened to a funny monologue delivered by Eddie Murphy. Zachary wondered how a grown-up could find such nonsense funny.

"Here comes an idiot to mess up our day," Paul whispered. "I just don't get why the school doesn't expel him." He groaned.

"Ignore him," Kendrick said, his voice somewhat hushed. "With the backing of his father, he will never get expelled whatever he does."

Zachary didn't even pause his ascent to glance towards Grant. He had long gotten used to the constant insults from the tall Caucasian goalkeeper.

Followed by Kendrick, Zachary sidestepped the silhouette of the goalkeeper and continued ascending the stairs. He couldn't waste his valuable time on pointless quibbles with a jealous teenager.

Kasongo and Paul, though, stopped and glowered at Grant. The latter licked his lips and said in a crisp tone: "Grant, one of these days, I'll beat you up so bad that even your mama won't recognize you. Keep insulting me—and you'll get what's coming to you." The Swede harrumphed before moving past the goalkeeper.

"Kasongo!" Zachary turned back, looking towards the boy still squaring off against Grant, who stood at almost a foot taller than him. "Are you coming? We have less than ten minutes before the lesson begins."

Kasongo quietly ground his teeth in frustration before following Paul Otterson up the stairs.

"Cowards born as losers, to loser mommies," Grant scoffed, as Kasongo and Paul were only a few steps away from him.

The two paused midway up the stairs before turning back. "Say that again," Paul growled, clenching his fists.

Enjoy and vote for the book. Thanks for reading.

creators' thoughts

30 Life at the Academy IV

Grant's smile widened as he walked closer towards them. "I said you're cowards, charity cases who are just being fed by Rosenborg here in Trondheim. One of you played a single game and thought he was the star of the generation. But, he is just a loser like the rest of his band." He grinned viciously at Zachary, who was already atop the stairs.

Zachary sighed audibly. He could not believe that a professional athlete with such an idiotic mindset existed in one of the top international academies of a developed nation.

Although Grant had already graduated from the NF Academy and joined the Rosenborg under-19s, he still behaved like a child. He had started taking verbal jabs at Zachary when he noticed him talking to Kristin before the match with Viking the previous year.

"Let's go," Zachary said, turning away from Grant and his cronies. "We need to get to class." Zachary felt angry, but he knew he had to ignore the fool. He had no intention of jeopardizing his sports scholarship.

"Why do you put up with his insults?" Kasongo asked once he fell into step by his side.

Zachary glanced at Kasongo and shook his head. The short boy was yet to be exposed to the ways of the world. "Let me ask you this," he said. "What would I gain from fighting or bickering with him?"

"You can defend your dignity and honor," Paul answered as they moved away from the stairs, through the hallway, and towards their classroom on the second floor.

Zachary smiled. "I can't live on either of those." He spread out his arms to emphasize his point. The others stopped pestering him once he gave them the reply. They remained quiet, seemingly in contemplation—until they entered their small but cozy classroom.

Reading tables with well-padded chairs were placed around a podium with a large blackboard that ran from corner to corner of one of the walls—painted light-green.

The rest of Zachary's classmates had already arrived. They stood in groups of twos and threes scattered all around the classroom.

"You guys are finally here," murmured a female voice, lisping slightly, drawling out consonants and vowels into an exotic Italian accent.

Zachary turned around only to lock eyes with a stunning young woman with dark hair worn in long braids that plunged over her slim shoulders. Her brown eyes smoldered with a sensuality that could easily capture the hearts of the stoniest of men. Her dark-green ruffled silk blouse could not conceal the lush curves of her cleavage while her denim jeans clung to her hips, accentuating the outlines of her thighs.

Paul, who thought himself a Casanova, nudged himself in-between Zachary and the girl and gave her a gallant little bow. "Good morning, Marta." His mannerisms mirrored the chivalry of knights in old medieval movies.

Marta Romano gave Paul an arch look and said: "Your bows are not the least bit amusing. You're turning into an old man."

"But a lovely old man," said a second voice—and a second beauty, indistinguishable from Marta except that she wore her hair in a ponytail. She looked like a supermodel in her fitting Rosenborg jersey. She hooked an arm over Paul's shoulder and added: "My sister is just cranky from yesterday's long piano practice."

"Good morning, Melissa," Paul murmured. "You look lovely as always."

Melissa's mouth curved up into a soft smile. "Thank you," she said. "But you two are late today."

"We had a meeting with our head coach after our morning practice," Paul answered, sounding cheesy. The beauty of the two Romano twins had long spellbound him.

"Zach! How was practice?" Marta said. She had moved around Paul and her sister to stand beside Zachary once again.

"Just the usual," Zachary replied, smiling. "How was your piano practice?"

The two girls were among Zachary's few classmates. They were both students at one of the music institutes in Trondheim. They also partook in classes with special programs for part-time students at TIS.

TIS was an international school that accommodated the needs of international students undertaking their education in Trondheim. Talented students from all fields could join the school for their secondary education.

"Same as usual," Marta replied, once again locking eyes with Zachary. "You are yet to fulfill your promise," she stated.

"Sorry about that." Zachary grinned sheepishly. He motioned for the girl to follow him away from the others. "Training has been taking up most of my time. I couldn't clear up time to do anything else." He added.

"When you come to me for discussions, I'll also claim to be busy with practice," Marta mumbled.

"Why don't we adjust our plans to the autumn break," Zachary said. "We'll have a lot of free time by then."

"Is that a promise?" Marta questioned, her tone solemn.

"Yes, it is." Zachary nodded emphatically.

"What are the two of you whispering about?" Melissa interrupted their conversation as she positioned herself beside her sister. "Are you two...?" However, before she could complete her question, the lecturer stepped through the door into the classroom.

"Settle down people—and let's learn some German," said the male lecturer, sounding dramatic.

Zachary spent the next three hours cramming German words and sentences he could not understand. At 1 PM, he ate a light lunch with his friends before sitting back in the classroom for algebra. Most of the students lost their vibrancy as the minutes passed. It was as if they were partaking in an intense 90-minute soccer game rather than a lecture.

Zachary was always bored by the equations and calculations during the math lessons. He would have preferred to spend all his time on the pitch rather than in a classroom. But, he persevered to maintain his scholarship.

Fortunately, the class only lasted an hour. At three, Zachary headed to the NF training grounds, where he started his long week prematch training with his teammates and coaches. He spent the whole evening there and only returned to Moholt at 8:30 PM after a sumptuous dinner at the soccer academy.

After freshening up, he returned to his room and opened the system interface. He was planning on making his first purchases from the system shop after saving up a considerable sum of Juju-points over the past year.

Thanks for reading. Remember to vote and comment. I sincerely thank those who have taken the time to post a review of the book. Gracias.

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31 An Upgraded System

As Zachary was about to begin perusing through the system user-interface, his phone's buzzer went off like an annoyed rattlesnake. He scooped it up, glanced at its screen, and noticed that his grandma was calling.

"Zachary!" His grandma's husky but comforting voice sounded from the phone when he placed it close to his ear. "Are you there?" She intoned in the Swahili language.

"Ndio, bibi," he spoke into the Motorola Moto-G phone. "Are you settling in well? How is the new place?" He asked in a humble tone, maintaining a clear Swahili accent.

Zachary had managed to move her from Bukavu after saving up half his allowance for a year. With 84,000 Norwegian Kroner, he rented her a sizeable house in Lubumbashi—and hired some casual laborers to work her farm back in Bukavu. Zachary had not been able to return to the Congo in the summer due to his tight training schedule. However, he had sent money to Coach Damata and tasked him with settling her in the new city. He'd even bought her a new phone, similar to his own, for easier communication.

"You know me," said his grandma. "I didn't want to move to the city. It's boring here. And my cows, my animals may be dying." She complained. The old lady loved her farm. It had taken endless pleading on Zachary's part in conjunction with Coach Damata's remarkable people-skills to convince her to move from Bukavu.

"But we agreed that you would set-up a crafts shop in Lubumbashi," Zachary said. "That should keep you busy. Moreover, don't you find Lubumbashi safer than the neighborhoods in our village?"

Zachary's grandma sighed audibly. "Enough about me," she drawled. Zachary could discern a suppressed melancholy undertone in her voice. It seemed she hadn't gotten used to living in the new city. "Are you studying and training hard? When will I get to see you on television?" She asked.

Zachary spent the next five minutes telling his grandma about his life in Norway. He talked about his classes, training, the weather, and a few other topics to assure his grandma that he was safe.

He was glad that he had a way to communicate with the sole parental figure he knew in both his lives. Zachary never got tired of hearing her voice because it kept all the homesickness he felt when he was in Norway at bay.

He had come to realize that going back in time had not turned him into a machine with only one goal; playing soccer. At times, some of the feelings he had occasionally suppressed in his previous life would threaten to drown his mind.

During the Christmas break of the previous year, he'd spent hours looking at the falling white snow through his window, thinking about his grandma, all alone back in Bukavu. The snow resting upon the earth in that winter, as if it were an endless feather cushion, had made him homesick, made him long for home. That was why he had felt compelled to purchase a phone to better communicate with her.

Zachary had not yet achieved the sort of steel nerves that could allow him to switch off everything else and focus solely on soccer. Maybe, that was why the system still graded his mental ability at B -.

However, Zachary didn't wish to lose all his emotions and become a soccer maniac. He wanted to experience all the things his new life had to offer whilst also becoming one of the best in the soccer world. That was his goal.

After talking to his grandma, Zachary returned his attention to the system. He re-opened the user-interface after placing his phone on the bedside table and began—skimming through the system menu.

SOCCER G.O.A.T SYSTEM

SYSTEM LEVEL: 2 (367/1000 Juju-points to level-up)

USER: Zachary Bemba

AGE: 16 years

TALENT ASSESSMENT: Grade-B

JUJU-POINTS: 367 (2 msg)

(Evaluation: A budding soccer player)

USER MENU

*USER STATS

*G.O.A.T MISSIONS (4 msg)

*SYSTEM SHOP

*SYSTEM LOTTERY (locked)

*SNOOPING TOOL

NB: Pls level-up the system to unlock more functions.

Zachary didn't take much time scanning the contents of the interface. He had upgraded the system a year ago and was already familiar with the level-2 interface. He extended his forefinger right away and tapped on the G.O.A.T-missions tab, already blinking red on the interface.

"DING"

#4 new messages

CONGRATULATIONS

- You have completed the mission (One-Year Progressive Overload Fitness Training).

-Mission-Rewards

1) C-grade Physical Conditioning Elixir (Already availed to the user.)

2) 260 cumulative Juju-Points.

-Mission Summary

*Training plan completed with perfection over one year.

Overall Mission Rating: A

-Bonus rewards

You have earned 100 bonus juju-points

The mission rewards were what Zachary expected. He'd been earning a dosage of the physical conditioning elixir and 5 Juju-points for each of the weekly training plans designed by the system.

Over the 52 weeks in the previous year, he'd earned a total of 260 points. The system had awarded him a bonus of 100 Juju-points for his perfect completion of the mission. He then had enough to purchase one of the skills in the unlocked system shop.

However, he decided to check his user-stats first before opening the system shop.

*USER STATS

-Physical Fitness: A-

-Soccer Technique: A

-Game Intelligence: A

-Mental Ability and Mindset: B-

-X-Factors: F

-G.O.A.T Skills: 2

Zachary managed to improve his physical fitness and soccer technique by a single grade over the year of training. Due to his strict training schedule, involving yoga and meditation, his mental ability had finally improved from the C- grading to the B- grading. However, he had not managed to increase his X-factor even by a single grade over the course of the entire year. That single stat was holding back his talent assessment, yet he had no way to improve it.

[Maybe, I should seek help from one of the coaches.] Zachary sighed. He clicked on the physical-fitness tab.

-Physical Fitness (Av. Rating: A-)

Balance and Coordination: A

Agility: A

Strength: B

Stamina: A-

Endurance Points: 4500/5500 (A-)

Zachary's physical fitness had benefited the most from the 1-year progressive overload training. His balance and coordination, together with his agility stats, had all leaped to the A grade. Only his strength stat remained shy of an A-grading among his physical stats. With his progress rate, he only had to continue with the intensive training plan—and one day, he would achieve the perfect physique for soccer.

Over the year of training, he had noticed that his physique was becoming less buff but more slender as he toned his muscles with vigorous exercise. He had achieved a body with lean, well-defined muscles with almost no body fat. He was a bit thinner than he originally was but in better shape as a soccer player.

He felt a sense of accomplishment since his physique had attained a mixture of the mesomorph and ectomorph body types. He was more agile with better body coordination—giving him an edge when dribbling or handling the ball. His soccer-technique grades for dribbling skills, passing accuracy, and body control had also improved due to his refined physique.

Zachary navigated back to the home menu of the system user-interface before opening the system-shop.

*SYSTEM SHOP

-Gift Packs (locked)

-Purchase Skills

-Purchase Elixirs

-Lottery Coupons (locked)

-Inventory

Zachary did not dawdle. He selected the purchase-skills tab on the system-shop menu right away. It was one of the features that had been unlocked by the system after its upgrade.

He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the new contents of the screen. Only two skills were available in the system shop. They appeared on skill cards hovering in front of everything else on the interface. One card depicted David Beckham, the famous English footballer, in a shooting posture with the ball. The other portrayed Andrea Pirlo, an Italian legend, with the ball at his feet.

Below the two skill-cards were a few words in beautiful calligraphy.

1) Bend-it like Beckham Juju: For setpieces. Costs 300 Juju-points.

2) Snipe-it like Pirlo Juju: For passing. Costs 300 Juju-points.

NB:

*The skills are limited to a single purchase until the next system upgrade.

*Please make your choice by tapping on the skill-card to purchase.

Zachary didn't need to deliberate much. He selected the 'Bend-it like Beckham Juju' right away.

He was already confident in his passes and only wanted to acquire skills capable of winning him games when he debuted for Rosenborg. The setpiece skill seemed like the best choice to Zachary at that moment since only a single purchase was allowed until the next upgrade of the system.

In his past life, Celtic had depended on Nakamura's freekicks to win several games—and contend for various Scottish titles. Zachary was sure he could become a great asset to any team if he mastered the art of taking setpieces at the level of Beckham. As a midfielder, he would not need to worry about being left out of the team roster as long as he could score most of his setpieces.

However, when Zachary tapped on the card with Beckham's image, a system notification instantly popped up.

*G.O.A.T Skills

#2 new messages

-You are attempting to learn a G.O.A.T Skill that requires both mental and physical conditioning before achieving initial masterly.

- Activate the G.O.A.T Skills Simulator to commence mental conditioning by spending 2 Juju-points for 1-hour activation.

*Accept *Reject

"So this is the use of the simulator," Zachary mumbled to himself. He was enlightened. The G.O.A.T Skills Simulator was a new feature added under the G.O.A.T-Skills menu after the system upgrade. He had been ignorant of its use until that moment.

Without any hesitation, he clicked on the accept button to activate the simulator. He could not wait to learn new Juju.

Thanks for reading. Please do remember to vote for the book.

For this chapter, I intended to provide an update on Zachary and his system. I had to do abit of info-dumping to set the scene for the next few chapters. I do hope you enjoy reading. Stay tuned for more chapters tomorrow. Gracias.

32 The G.O.A.T Skills Simulator

"DING"

A new system notification popped up once Zachary selected the accept button.

*G.O.A.T Skills Simulator

#2 new messages

- You have spent 2 Juju-points to activate the simulator for one hour.

-The system's virtual reality simulation will activate in two minutes. Please lie down and ready yourself for the procedure.

Zachary first locked the door of his bedroom, then closed the curtains before lying on his bed in a supine position. He calmed his mind and patiently waited for the two minutes to elapse.

When the countdown was over, new words started populating the user interface positioned at an oblique angle just before his face.

G.O.A.T Skills Simulator activating

Connecting System Neural Interface

ACTIVATION SUCCESSFUL

Zachary's eyesight blurred as soon as the last message of the system appeared on the screen. Everything became fuzzy; then he saw nothing at all. His consciousness drifted through a space filled with a thick static. His heart pounded loudly, echoing in his ears, as he descended into a new reality. The feeling in his body drained away until finally, all was black.

When Zachary's eyes recovered, he was no longer in his room or lying on his bed. Instead, he was in a dark space with only the glowing blueish system interface in his sight.

"DING"

The system notification sounded as new words populated the interface. Zachary blinked as his eyes adjusted to the lighting of the screen.

*G.O.A.T Skills Simulator

Mental Conditioning commencing...

Bend-it like Beckham Juju training packages loading...

Select the type of field surface to begin training the skill

a) Artificial turf

b) Natural turf

c) GrassMaster

Zachary naturally selected the GrassMaster turf since it was the most common field surface type in Trondheim. It was a hybrid field surface achieved by combining natural grass with synthetic reinforcing fibers. Although he was in a simulation, Zachary wanted to train on a familiar pitch to master the Bend-it like Beckham Juju quickly.

As soon as his right finger left the system interface, a perfect green soccer pitch started forming beneath his feet. It spread out and covered more ground in the formerly dark virtual space.

In a matter of seconds, Zachary stood in a world of green with millions of perfect grass strands beneath his soccer boots. His clothing had even changed into his preferred style, a kit with a green jersey and matching boots. He stood in between the goalposts similar to two white towers planted at either side of the demarcated pitch.

The system simulator didn't allow him any ounce of time to orient himself to his surroundings. No sooner had the ground finished forming than Zachary felt the ground below his boots move, giving him a feeling of being on a travelator. He swiftly crossed the pitch and arrived before the 18-yard box of the empty field.

In an explosion of luminescence, a vivid 3D image of David Beckham, in a red and white Manchester United Vodafone jersey, manifested beside Zachary. Five balls lined up before Beckham soon after.

The English soccer legend waved his arm dismissively towards the goal as glowing silhouettes materialized in the box before him. They included a wall of faceless players lined up about 10 yards away from the ball. After they had taken their positions, a goalkeeper appeared between the posts.

Zachary could tell that the system was simulating a real match scenario of taking a freekick. But he was confused about how the simulation would aid him in the mental training necessary to master the Beckham skill. Many players watched videos of legends performing in matches. However, that didn't guarantee they would master those skills.

Nonetheless, he remained attentive, watching David Beckham readying himself to shoot. He was eager to learn the legendary setpiece technique.

The English legend just moved a few steps back, positioned himself with his left shoulder at the 90 degrees mark facing the goal before observing the wall and the goalkeeper's position. He then approached the ball at a controlled speed and unleashed a curling ball, around the players and the goalkeeper, into the goal. He repeated the same procedure until all the balls were safely in the back of the net.

Zachary sighed in amazement as he analyzed the Englishman's shooting posture. He realized that the spin on Beckham's freekicks was nothing short of marvelous. However, he was still unsure how watching the Englishman taking setpieces would help him master a G.O.A.T skill.

However, the system resolved his doubts soon after.

The 3D image of the Englishman swiftly moved towards Zachary and merged with his silhouette. At that moment, Zachary lost command of his body. He could feel his muscles and even perceive his surroundings, but he wasn't in control.

Zachary felt himself taking seven steps behind the five new balls that had once again materialized before the box. He analyzed the field situation, the wall, goalkeeper positioning, and distance of one of the balls from the goalposts.

After a slow but steady approach, Zachary felt himself plant his right foot before taking a one and a half meter final jump step towards the ball. He then placed his left foot right beside the ball, cocked his right leg back, and kicked the ball with the side of his big toe. He let loose a curling shot into the back of the net.

His body, still not in his command, continued shooting the rest of the four balls. Zachary only regained control of his body after he'd kicked the last ball.

He had experienced how Beckham felt, perceived the surroundings, and controlled his body whenever he scored from a freekick. Zachary could tell that the system was slowly instilling the reflexes, body motions, and the other relevant knowledge necessary to learn the Bend-it like Beckham Juju within him. With just the five balls he had curled into the net, he had already begun to grasp the skill.

He only had to carry on shooting freekicks within the G.O.A.T skills simulator to advance his mastery of the skill. Thus, he continued practicing the setpieces for one hour until the system ejected him out of the simulation.

But he'd already made considerable progress. In just an hour, he'd managed to take 30 freekicks with Beckham's 3D-model as a guide. He could feel his knowledge about setpieces growing slowly but steadily. And all this had cost him a measly 2 Juju-points.

Zachary opened the system G.O.A.T skills menu to check out the progress of his skills.

-G.O.A.T Skills: 3

(i) ZINEDINE VISUAL JUJU

(1st-level: Progress: 61.021%)

(ii) ZACHARY-ARROW-SHOT

(2nd-level: Progress: 1%)

(iii) BEND-IT LIKE BECKHAM JUJU

(1st-level: Progress: 0.03%)

-G.O.A.T Skills Simulator

*Activate *Deactivate

(Activation costs 2 Juju-points per hour)

Zachary's mood lifted when he noticed that his Beckham skill expertise had already improved by 0.03%. He knew firsthand how challenging it was to achieve the complete initial mastery of G.O.A.T skills. He had only made 61% progress towards mastering the 1st level of the Zinedine Visual Juju even after a year of training.

However, the simulator had helped him progress by 0.03% after shooting only 30 balls in one night. That was music to his ears.

[I wonder whether I can use the simulator to train other skills.] Zachary mused.

He activated the simulator at the cost of 2 Juju-points once again. Zachary wanted to test whether the simulator could help him train his other G.O.A.T skills. However, only the arrow shot and the Beckham freekick skills were available under the simulator menu.

[So, that's why I could master the Zinedine Visual Juju before gaining access to the simulator.]

Zachary could comprehend why he could begin mastering the Zinedine-Visual-Juju without utilizing the simulator. The system had only infused match experience and tactical knowledge to increase his game intelligence before using the skill. Due to his high spatial awareness stat, he had faced no obstacle in comprehending and mastering the technique.

However, the requirements for the arrow shot and the freekick skills were different. Zachary had to master the perfect body posturing and bodily motions to execute the techniques with perfection. Even a slight shift in his balance could send the ball veering away from its intended path. The only way for the system to infuse the skills into Zachary's muscle memory was through the G.O.A.T skills simulator.

Zachary activated the simulator two more times that night, continuing his mental conditioning for the Bend-it like Beckham Juju. He managed to shoot 90 balls on setpieces and advanced the skill's progress by 0.09%. He slept at 1 am, feeling accomplished.

The next day, Zachary maintained his routine of waking up early in the morning, heading to the gym at six o'clock, and attending school. When the last lecturer for the day moved out of his classroom, Zachary swiftly approached Kendrick and asked for help with his freekick practice.

He needed to practice his techniques in the real world to supplement his training within the G.O.A.T skills simulator. Only then would he achieve the perfect mental and physical condition to execute the skill flawlessly.

"You want to start practicing setpieces?" Kendrick regarded Zachary with a relaxed calculating expression. "Don't you want to prepare for the review next week?" He inquired.

Zachary nodded. "We can practice for 30 minutes today before the coaches arrive and also during the few breaks in between the training. Could you fit this in your schedule?"

"I'm a goalkeeper," The Swede said with a frown. "Your freekick practice will only benefit me if your shots are more on than off-target. How good are you at setpieces?"

"I'm new to this," Zachary intoned. "But I'm confident that I'll be able to master freekicks very quickly." He smiled at his flatmate.

"Okay, then," Kendrick said in a mild tone. "I'll agree to become your training partner for a week. We'll see how it goes from there."

Zachary flashed him a grateful smile. "Thank you. But we need to hurry to the pitch before the others hamper our plans." Zachary said, pointing towards Kasongo and Paul. Their two flatmates were locked in a conversation with a group of girls.

"Okay." Kendrick nodded. "Let's move."

Zachary and Kendrick stealthily exited their classroom and headed to the academy training grounds on their bikes. Fifteen minutes later, they were all dressed in their training kits and ready to commence their setpiece training.

"I will set up the wall first," Kendrick announced.

"I will help," Zachary replied. "I would like to start with freekicks that are just outside the box."

"That's okay," Kendrick said, pulling one of the soccer-mannequins into the 18-yard box. In a few minutes, the two boys set-up a wall of five mannequins inside-but-close to the edge of the box.

"I'm ready when you are," Kendrick said as he positioned himself in between the goalposts. "Let's see what you got."

Zachary smiled and placed the ball about ten yards behind the mannequins. He relaxed his mind and then curled the ball towards the goal the same way he'd done in the simulation the previous night.

However, the first ball was still off-target by a wide margin.

Kendrick lifted his eyebrows. "Are you trying to shoot like Beckham? Why not start with some simple freekicks to get used to shooting from that position?" He asked.

"I got this," Zachary replied, smiling. "Don't worry. I've already mastered the technique—to some extent."

Zachary had felt his body positioning, at the moment he had made contact with the ball, being off by a slight margin. His supporting foot needed to be steadily planted and face the direction he wanted the ball to follow. Zachary also realized he needed to swing his hand up and backward while aligning himself at an angle of about 45-degrees before making contact with the ball. He hadn't been perfect in executing those body motions while taking the first freekick.

Zachary moved back and blasted the ball with the inner side of his boot once again. For that attempt, he felt he had perfectly mimicked the shooting posture—ingrained by the system into his muscle memory. His body motions had matched what he had done in the virtual reality while possessed by Beckham. Zachary sent the ball spinning, on a curved path, towards the goal with the side of his big toe.

Kendrick didn't even manage to react when the ball flew past him into the top right corner.

"Goal!" Zachary celebrated as if he had scored in a real match. He was on cloud nine. He felt confident he would master the Bend-it like Beckham Juju as long as he carried on training setpieces.

Kendrick couldn't hide an expression of surprise. Then he rolled his eyes. "Are you really new at taking freekicks?"

"That was luck," Zachary replied honestly. "I need to shoot a lot more balls before I can become consistent."

The Swede smiled. "Then I'll also get serious," he said, cleaning his goalkeeping gloves on his black sweat pants. "Do your best—and let me show you Iker Casillas in action." He grinned at Zachary.

The two boys practiced for a whole hour before joining the rest of their teammates for routine practice. Surprisingly, Coach Johansen silently concurred with their freekick training. He didn't call them for the warming up routines at the start of the training session that day.

Zachary managed to score an average of two out of every ten freekicks during the session. He could feel his body adapting to the obtuse shooting posture required for the skill. He only needed to maintain a strict training routine to perfect the Beckham Juju.

Zachary dedicated three hours of his daily schedule to freekick practice for the next six days. He spent an hour practicing with Kendrick and two in the simulator each day.

He didn't relax his physical and tactical training routines despite having to make time for setpiece practice.

The week passed, almost in a blur, and it was soon time for the academy review. Zachary would have to undergo the annual medical test and play a match with both the senior and junior teams of Rosenborg for that year's test. He was excited by the prospect of finally facing off against professional players.

Thanks for reading. I am also grateful to the readers who are voting for the book daily. Hope you continue to follow Zachary's journey to greatness. Gracias.

Chat with me on Discord Server: https/discord.gg/7mNvAaTtkf

33 The Annual Review

"Listen up, young fellas," said Coach Johansen, his voice deathly quiet and filled with foreboding. "I'm sure that most of you are thinking this game is just another insignificant friendly. And, as long as you perform well, you won't be released by the academy. You'll pass the review. Isn't that right?" He grinned, letting his gaze roam over the sixteen players seated in a semi-circle before him.

The academy players before him remained silent, waiting for their coach to continue.

Zachary and his teammates had just finished warming up. They were in the dressing room, attending a pre-match tactical briefing for the game against Rosenborg's second team. Their opponents were a combination of both under 19s and reserves of the Rosenborg team.

"Let me tell you this. You can't afford to lose this game," Coach Johansen continued. "I understand that those men are a few years your seniors. They may have much more experience than you guys. But you still have to win. I hate losing—and you should, too. Go out there and play like your life depends on it. Otherwise, I'll cut most of you out of the team during the review." He took a few steps closer to the players. "Are we on the same page?" He asked in a solemn tone.

"Yes, Coach," all the players, including Zachary, replied, more or less in unison.

Coach Johansen nodded at the players before unfolding a piece of paper. "The starting line-up for today is as follows:

Goal Keeper; Kendrick Otterson

Center-backs; Robin Jatta, Lars Togstad, Daniel Kvande

Left-back; Martin Lundal, Right-back; Öyvind Alseth

Midfield; Magnus Blakstad, Zachary Bemba

Right-wing; Paul Kasongo, Left-wing; Kim Riksvold

Forward; Örjan Börmark."

Zachary turned to look at Paul, his Swedish flatmate, after hearing the names on the squad. Coach Johansen had left him out of the starting line-up.

The boy's brows were—creased into a frown. He appeared devastated by the coach's decision. Zachary made a mental note to console him later and returned his attention to the coach's instructions.

"I want to emphasize one point once more. You're playing against a stronger team. That's for sure. That's why we are using the 5-4-1 formation. All of you, except Örjan, have to defend and mark all their forwards and attacking midfielders. Center-backs! You have to maintain a high level of concentration for the whole match. You can't let them make runs behind you."

The coach turned towards Zachary and regarded him for a moment. "Zach boy," he said in a mild tone. "I need swift transitions, from the defense to striking, when you guys win the ball. You're in the midfield—and with your speed, you should be able to provide the wingers and forwards with through passes for counters. Right?"

"Yes, coach," Zachary replied. He fully grasped the strategy since Coach Johansen had been talking about it in training the entire week. The coach intended to have them play a purely defensive game and catch the opponents on the counterattack.

"Kasongo and Kim," Coach Johansen intoned, turning away from Zachary. "You'll be doing a lot of running during this game. The two of you have to support Örjan in the attack, and also fall back quickly whenever we lose possession."

"Especially you, Kim," the coach emphasized, pointing at one of the players. "Please make sure you support Martin on the left-wing whenever we are defending against their attacks. Is that clear?"

"Yes, coach," Kim Riksvold, the starting left-winger, replied solemnly.

"Great. Let's have a good match." Coach Johansen smiled. "Bjørn, give out the jerseys," he instructed, turning towards his assistant at his side.

Zachary and his teammates exited the dressing room once they had all donned their dark blue jerseys. On the way out of the dressing room, Zachary approached Paul Otterson and asked: "Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" The Swede flashed him a smile. "I'm sure I'll get a chance to play later on in the game." He said.

Zachary clapped Paul's shoulder as they walked through the tunnel. "That's great. I thought you were depressed about the game. Stay positive. You'll get a chance to play." He consoled his friend.

Paul's smile faded, and he lowered his voice, his expression solemn. "I suggest you take this game more seriously."

"Of course, I will," Zachary replied, also in a whisper. "I always take every game seriously."

"You don't understand." Paul scowled at Zachary. "There is talk of making Coach Johansen the permanent coach of the Rosenborg II team."

"Wasn't he already confirmed as the head of the NF academy instead of the Rosenborg under-19s?"

"Yes." Paul nodded. "But that's all ancient history. Rosenborg's Board of Directors wants to appoint him as the coach of the second team. This match may be a test set for him by the club officials. That means if we lose, he may cut most of the players from the academy team. I'm sure you won't be affected because of your exceptional talent." He smiled ruefully. "However, the rest of us will be in deep trouble."

Zachary frowned. "Are the rest of the players aware of this?"

"Nope. I just heard this from my agency." Paul sighed. "They warned me to perform my best today because of that."

"I'll do my best." Zachary smiled. "Let's hope luck is on our side today. Taking our team into consideration, we have a real chance of winning. We only need to find a way to score."

Zachary had realized that the NF academy had a relatively strong under-18 team over the past year. The defense was almost on par with the Rosenborg under-19s'. The only challenge they faced was a lack of strikers. The only forwards on the roster were Kim Riksvold and Paul Otterson. Coach Johansen's only resort was to use the 5-4-1 formation to cover that defect.

"Just do your best, Zach," Paul implored as they walked out of the tunnel into the pitch. "The continuation of our blissful life in the academy hinges on this game. It's even more important than the one against the Rosenborg seniors." He patted Zachary's shoulder and rushed off towards the technical area.

Zachary sighed as he glanced at the departing back of his flatmate. He'd even forgotten that he was in an annual review—testing the performance of the players. If their performance didn't meet the required standards during the review week, the academy would release them and politely advise them to try their talents elsewhere. Zachary wasn't worried since he was already assured of his position in Rosenborg when he turned 18. As long as he wasn't involved in a terrible scandal or accident, the academy wouldn't release him. Mr. Stein had already assured him about that.

"Zach," A deep voice sounded from behind him as he was still in contemplation. He turned around only to find Magnus Blakstad, the other central midfielder selected for that day's game, standing behind him. The number six was very tall, a clear head higher than most people Zachary would consider tall.

"What is it?" Zachary inquired. He had never been close to the midfielder since they attended different schools.

"I'll cover the whole of the defensive midfield," Magnus said, smiling. "Just concentrate on attacking. We need to win this game."

Zachary nodded. "I believe that we should be able to win. But watch out for Ole's passes. Otherwise, we will have no chance of emerging victorious."

"That's true," Magnus concurred. "We can't win this game unless we deal with Ole's passes. But they will also have to deal with you if they want to win this game. Just look around and see how the Rosenborg players are stealing wary glances at you." He grinned, pointing towards the other half of the pitch.

Zachary turned around and noticed that his old acquaintances, in their Rosenborg black and white jerseys, were glowering at him with a burning urge to compete. The likes of Mushaga, Ole, Jonas, Asen, Christopher, Fredrick, and a few other players Zachary did not recognize were already standing in their positions. They had arrayed themselves into a 3-5-2 formation, showing their intention to play an attacking game against the NF academy.

*FWEEEEEEE!*

The referee blew his whistle, signaling for all the players to take their position. The match between Rosenborg II and the NF academy was finally beginning.

Zachary's mood lifted. It had been a full year since he last partook in a serious soccer game. He was eager to test his skills against the Rosenborg second team.

"It finally begins," Magnus grinned. "Let's have a good game," He pumped fists with Zachary before running back to his position.

I hope you're having a nice and warm holiday season! Thank you for reading.

creators' thoughts

34 Against Rosenborg's Second Team

The game went exactly as Coach Johansen had anticipated in the first ten minutes. Rosenborg's second team kicked off the game and maintained possession as they bore down on NF academy's goal.

All their players were able to retain the ball and pass it around quickly. They could advance steadily towards the goal without giving the academy players a chance to win possession. Their teamwork frustrated Zachary and his teammates via compactness and narrowness.

The Troll Kids were playing the Tiki-Taka Barcelona style.

They were arrayed in a 3-5-2 formation with three men in the middle of the pack supported by two wingers. Ole Selnæs, Gjermund Åsen, and Fredrik Midtsjö were the core players in their midfield. The three midfielders controlled the overall pace of the game with their tight ball skills.

However, the boys in white and black seemed wary of Zachary. They played around him instead of through him in the midfield. They so often chose to pass the ball instead of dribbling and facing off against him and his teammates.

But that wasn't the most threatening peculiarity about Rosenborg's team arrangement and game plan. Any one of their three central midfielders would occasionally burst forward and threaten the NF academy's box.

Rosenborg's second team created their first clear chance of the game in the 10th minute in such a manner. Ole Selnæs, who was supposed to be playing the defensive midfield role, exploded forth. He played a one-two with Trond Olsen—the left-winger after receiving a fast pass from Fredrik Midtsjö.

The duo bypassed Magnus Blakstad and penetrated deep into the half of NF academy with their smooth passing. Ole made a quick through pass to Mushaga, who was making a run behind the three center backs before they managed to react to the swift change in the game's pace.

The Rosenborg striker dashed into the box and found himself one-on-one with Kendrick Otterson, the goalkeeper. However, as he raised his foot, preparing to shoot, a swift silhouette came—sliding in and poked the ball out of play with a green boot.

The referee blew the whistle and pointed to the corner flag.

Zachary had saved the NF academy from conceding an early goal. He was the only player on the academy team who had reacted swiftly to Rosenborg's change of pace and sudden attack. He was in the central midfield when the attack started, but he'd managed to run more than 40 yards, catch up with Mushaga, and tackle the ball.

Mushaga regarded Zachary, who was in the process of getting up from the ground, with a frown. "It seems like you've gotten faster and better over the past year." He mumbled.

"That was simply luck," Zachary lied.

Of course, he wouldn't tell his opponent that he was capable of predicting their offensive tactics. His high game intelligence supported by the Zinedine-Visual-Juju had helped him analyze the patterns in Rosenborg's play. He'd been able to infer that Mushaga would receive the final ball instead of John Chibuike—Rosenborg's second striker.

Mushaga creased a brow as he continued eyeing Zachary. "Whether that was a fluke, or you could predict our passes, that means nothing in today's game," the striker stated. "You'll lose no matter how well you play. How many times can you defend against our attacks? Wait and see." He smiled softly before walking away.

Zachary could tell that the striker was attempting to burden him mentally and affect his game. He gave his comments no mind and readied himself to defend the corner.

Zachary frowned at Lars Togstad, who had just returned to the box. "Don't allow their strikers to make runs behind you. Wasn't that what the coach said? What are you people doing in defense?"

"They were too fast with their transition," the center-back said, smiling sheepishly. "But it won't happen again. I can promise you that." He thumped his chest.

"Great." Zachary nodded. "But maintain a proper backline throughout the match. You should command the rest of the defenders to move up-and-down the field in unison in all defensive situations. Only then can we lay a good offside trap and prevent their fast attacks from threatening our box." He advised the number-4.

Zachary had noticed that Mushaga would have been offside if Robin Jatta, the left center-back, hadn't dropped back and played him onside. He didn't expect such a rookie mistake from defenders in a professional academy.

"Don't worry," Lars assured. "We'll do our best for the rest of the game. Let's defend the corner first."

The defender seemed like an easy-going person. Zachary was glad that he'd listened to his reminder with a positive attitude.

Jonas Svensson, Rosenborg's right-winger, delivered a teasing ball from the corner into the box, starting the replay. Simen Wangberg, the tall center-back, outjumped NF academy's defense to meet the resulting corner and headed the ball right down towards the middle of the goal. However, his long-range header was not powerful enough, and Kendrick Otterson, the goalkeeper, made a comfortable save.

"Kendrick," Zachary yelled, dashing out of the box. "Quickly throw the ball to Kim."

Kendrick did not dilly-dally. On hearing Zachary's instruction, he made a long throw towards the touchline where Kim Riksvold, NF academy's left-winger, was waiting. Zachary and most of his teammates took off swiftly towards the other side of the pitch after the ball.

Kim, in the left-wing, controlled the ball beautifully close to the centerline. However, two of Rosenborg's players who hadn't partaken in the corner kick boxed him in. They surrounded him and forced him to pass the ball back to Zachary. Rosenborg had managed to stop NF academy's counter attack successfully.

Zachary received Kim's pass as he stepped into the midfield. He was calm as his eyes were—focused on the field before him. He controlled the ball with a deft touch and dashed towards Rosenborg's half with an explosion of long strides.

Although he hadn't touched the ball in the first ten minutes, he'd been observing and analyzing the entire game situation. The right-wing was open, like a highway, inviting Zachary's pass.

Zachary did not hesitate and whipped the ball towards Kasongo, in the right-wing. The short winger latched on to the precise long pass and took off towards the opponent's goal as if his life depended on it.

However, Christoffer Aasbak, the left-back, was instantly on him, forcing him to head towards the corner flag instead of the box. To make the situation worse, Gjermund Åsen, one of Rosenborg's three core midfielders, also rushed towards the wing to support his teammate. The two players surrounded Kasongo and forced him to lose possession soon after. The only attack of NF academy in the game, so far, had resulted in nothing.

For the next few minutes, the game situation remained the same. Rosenborg's second team dominated play and possession, forcing the NF academy to stay put in their half.

Fortunately, the NF academy's defenders were alert and managed to swat most of Rosenborg's attempts at goal. They worked hand-in-hand to set up plenty of offside traps for Rosenborg's two forwards. Mushaga had already been offside three times by the twentieth minutes of the game. The game remained in a stalemate.

However, Zachary soon realized a problem. The Rosenborg defense and midfield always swatted their few counter-attacks with ease.

The Troll Kids had a basic defensive shape, denying Zachary and his team any possession or penetration through the center. The Rosenborg players were compact vertically and horizontally the few times when Zachary was on the ball.

When Zachary would receive a pass in the midfield, Jonas Svensson or Trond Olsen, the wingers of Rosenborg, would pinch into the half-spaces. They would close off his horizontal passing routes on either side of the pitch.

The central midfielders would—then collapse and form a narrow triangle in the middle of the field, blocking any spaces that he would have utilized to make runs through the middle.

It seemed like Rosenborg's strategy was to mark the spaces around him instead of man-marking him. They knew that Zachary was good. They could only limit his impact on the game with their perfect team play.

Zachary could only resort to making long passes into the wings or to the forwards. However, Rosenborg's well-organized midfield and defense would easily box in the forwards and the wingers when they received his passes. The Troll Kids would effortlessly force them towards the touchline, preventing them from threatening their goal.

After Zachary understood their tactics, he called Kasongo over and whispered in his ear. He then ran back to the midfield and readied himself to receive the ball from his goalkeeper.

Mushaga had just made another long-range effort at goal. He'd struck the ball towards goal from the edge of the 18-yard box. However, his shot had flashed inches wide of the right post. The NF academy was on tenterhooks.

Zachary ran out of the midfield towards the right-wing abruptly when Kendrick was about to take the goal-kick. "Pass here," he shouted, swapping numbers with Kasongo.

"Zachary" Coach Johansen yelled from the sideline. "Go back to the midfield. What are you doing in the wings?"

Kendrick didn't seem to hear the coach's words. He whipped the ball to Zachary right away.

Zachary controlled the ball with his left foot in the right-wing—and then took off like the wind. He penetrated the opponent's half soon after.

A sense of anxiety built within him as he heard Coach Johansen yelling from the sidelines. However, he calmed himself since he trusted his vision and game intelligence. Zachary believed his decision to swap positions with Kasongo was right since there were no gaps to exploit in the middle of the pitch. NF academy would only get one chance to attack through the wings before the Rosenborg coaches realized they had left spaces in the sides of their formation.

"Cut him off," Zachary heard one of the midfielders yelling.

However, he shut out all the voices and continued his dash. He was fast, as fast as a bullet train. Zachary kept running and did not stop. At one point, he somehow shrugged off two simultaneous challenges from a pair of Rosenborg defenders—and still emerged with the ball.

He felt like his body was lighter as his boots flew in uniform long strides across the green. His one-year progressive overload training was showing off its wonders.

Gjermund Åsen sprung up in front of him, blocking his running path as he changed direction and cut into the pitch, heading towards Rosenborg's box. The midfielder was trying to force him to move towards the corner flag. That was what he'd been doing to Kasongo.

Zachary smiled. He expertly flicked the ball forward with his right leg before easily beating the Rosenborg midfielder for pace. From there, he continued to bear down on goal, sprinting to his left past Christoffer Aasbak.

However, the Rosenborg left-back was having none of Zachary's nonsense. He shadowed Zachary with his swift pace and tried to win the ball with a sliding tackle. The defender sent Zachary tumbling to the ground right after he'd stepped into the box.

*FWEEEEEEE*

The referee blew his whistle and pointed to the penalty spot.

Thanks for reading.

creators' thoughts

35 A Penalty-Kick

"I got the ball... I got the ball," Christoffer Aasbak groaned, picking himself up from the ground and running towards the referee.

"You didn't get the ball," said the referee, a big tall bald fellow, smiling softly. He withdrew a red card from one of his shirt pockets and showed it to the Rosenborg defender.

"Ref, that isn't fair," Christopher said, but his voice somehow subdued. "He surely dived." He shook his head.

"I was right behind you. So, I'm very sure my decision is correct." The referee emphasized. "You should have thought about the consequences before making a last-man foul." He pointed towards the bench.

Zachary ignored the bickering of the referee and the defender. He picked up the ball and moved towards the penalty spot. Örjan Börmark, the NF academy only striker, came up to him and asked to take the penalty. However, Zachary refused and held the ball firmly. He wouldn't trust anyone else with a spot-kick that he had worked so hard to earn. If NF academy didn't acquire a goal from his effort, Zachary was sure to face Coach Johansen's wrath.

"Off you go, young fella," Zachary heard the referee instructing Christopher. "We have a game to play. You need to leave the pitch."

"The rest of you out of the box," the referee hollered. "Keeper, head back to your goal." He ordered.

In a matter of seconds, the referee had finished organizing all the players outside of Rosenborg's 18-yard box.

The only people left within the box were Zachary, standing with the ball, on the penalty spot—and Even Barli, Rosenborg's goalkeeper, in between the goalposts.

Zachary shut out all outside disturbances.

He ran his hand through the turf to get any clumps out of the way. He then placed the ball on the penalty marker, positioning it as high as possible on the grass to give himself a good chance of striking it clean. He wanted to ensure that no other environmental factor affected his shot.

Zachary took a few steps back after noticing that the referee was already in position and about to blow the whistle. He continued muting out everything else and only focused on the penalty kick.

Meanwhile, he didn't forget to stare down the keeper who was jumping around, waving his arms, and acting confidently on his line. Zachary smirked—just a small pouting of the lips, a narrowing of the eyes, and a tilting of the head. He was as calm as a well of stars and wasn't intimidated by the keeper in any way.

*FWEEEEEEE*

The referee blew the whistle, signaling for Zachary to take the penalty.

Zachary ran slowly towards the ball before jumping high and placing his left foot next to the ball. All the while, he kept his sight fixed on the ball without looking at the goalkeeper. He then kicked the ball underneath—with the inside of his right foot, just a small nudge of moderate power, for elevation.

Zachary showed his unique vision and gently flicked the ball to the opposite side of where the keeper had dived. In the 22nd minute, the NF academy had scored the first goal of the match. 1:0. Unexpectedly, Rosenborg's second team was trailing.

Hope bloomed inside Zachary as he celebrated the goal with the rest of his teammates. With Rosenborg a man down, he could finally see a possibility of the NF academy winning the game.

"High pressing... high pressing formation for the rest of the half," Zachary heard coach Johansen yelling from the sidelines.

The NF academy players arrayed themselves in a 3-4-3 formation on hearing Coach Johansen's instructions. Öyvind Alseth and Martin Lundal, the right and left-backs, moved up the pitch, towards the midfield. Kasongo and Kim, the wingers, advanced further towards the opponent's box to support Örjan in striking. That was the only way they could pressure the opponent's defense on the other side of the pitch.

High pressing tactics required Zachary and his teammates to hungrily press the opponents in their half and win back possession as soon as possible whenever they lost the ball. They had to stop Rosenborg's passing within their half. Only then could they nip attacks in the bud and dictate gameplay.

Zachary was not surprised by Coach Johansen's change of tactics. The NF academy could capitalize on their numerical advantage and constantly threaten the Rosenborg goal if they became bold enough to attack more often. They had to act before the Rosenborg coaches reacted to Christopher's red card and reorganized their formations.

For the next few minutes, Zachary upped his game. He didn't make any more long runs but just started supplying his teammates with passes to dominate gameplay.

He conquered the midfield and became the link between defense and attack. He was always in a position to receive and pass the ball before the Rosenborg midfielders could react to his plays. With two more forwards in front of him, Zachary had more options when on the ball. Occasionally, he would send in deadly through balls to the three forwards.

In the 38th minute, Zachary chipped the ball over Rosenborg's defense after making a yard for himself in the midfield. Kasongo picked up the pass in the right-wing and sent the ball into the penalty area. Örjan Börmark jumped high to meet the resultant cross and planted a header from inside the box. However, the striker's effort smashed off the right post. Rosenborg's second team had just survived a second goal.

"Zachary is getting better by the day," Coach Bjørn Peters commented. "I now get why the Rosenborg officials place so much importance on him."

Coach Johansen was silent for a moment, then nodded. "He sure is talented. But his habit of deviating from the game plan will cause him problems someday."

"But he did score." Coach Bjørn smiled. "There was no one else who could have exploited the gaps in the wings as well as he did. His pace and dribbling skills have improved over the past year."

"That's the only reason he's off the hook. If he'd lost the ball along the way, the gap left by him in the midfield would have caused us a lot of trouble." Coach Johansen sounded casual.

The two coaches were standing on the sidelines watching the game. NF academy was dictating the pace of the match with their numerical advantage.

Zachary had just gotten to a rebound, from a corner ball, at the edge of the box. He smashed the ball towards the right side of the goal, beating Even Barli, and scoring the second goal. It was not yet the second half, but Rosenborg was surprisingly already 2:0 down. The academy coaches were under no pressure and conversing at a leisurely pace.

"Don't you think that it's a waste to leave Zachary behind for the Riga Cup?" Coach Bjørn inquired, his tone dubious. "With him, we have a real chance of winning for the first time. That could attract a lot more talented students to the academy."

"I know that." Coach Johansen nodded. "I've seen his free-kicks during training. If he perfects his set-pieces, we could threaten the giant academies during the Riga Cup. However, I need to convince that old man before the Rosenborg officials allow us to utilize him in the competition." Coach Johansen sighed, pulling at his red beard.

"Why is that?"

"The sporting director of Rosenborg doesn't want Zachary playing out of the country for the meantime," Coach Johansen replied. "They're afraid that other clubs in Europe will poach him before he even gets to play for Rosenborg. Only Mr. Stein can permit him to play in the cup since he oversees all of Zachary's affairs here in Norway."

Coach Bjørn frowned. "That's a challenge. You don't seem to get along with Mr. Stein. Will he allow it?"

Coach Johansen remained silent. He was focused on the match at that juncture. Zachary had just sent in a fine through ball towards the Rosenborg box, catching their center-backs unaware. Kim Riksvold collected the ball at the edge of the box—and released a tremendous shot towards the bottom right corner of the goal. However, Rosenborg's goalkeeper anticipated the attempt and made a brilliant save.

"Don't worry," Coach Johansen intoned after watching the game action. "I'll find a way for him to join us. Just register him as part of the team partaking in the Riga Cup. Leave the rest to me."

36 A Landslide Victory

Coach Johansen substituted Paul Otterson in at the beginning of the second half. The Swede replaced Kasongo on the right-wing.

Even though the NF academy held a numerical advantage over Rosenborg's second team, the coach didn't dare replace any midfielders or defenders. He still seemed wary of Rosenborg despite being two goals ahead.

Once Otterson got on the pitch, he ran up to Zachary and said: "Zach! I need to score. I need plenty of passes from you." He was breathing hard and all sweaty despite being on the pitch for only a few minutes. He seemed very anxious to perform in that day's game.

"Relax and play your game," Zachary advised his flatmate. "The coaches only need to see that you have improved over the past year. Go to your position and wait for my passes." Zachary smiled softly.

The NF academy continued dominating the rest of the game. Even the players who had gone unnoticed in the first half started impacting the match. The left and right backs were both heavily involved in the gameplay and made several runs across the wings during the second half. They played more like wingers than defenders and sent several precise crosses into Rosenborg's box.

However, the Troll Kids had reorganized their defense over the halftime. They adjusted their formation to four defenders, four midfielders, and one striker. Eight of their men were always behind the ball, leaving no scoring opportunities for the NF academy players despite how well they played.

The score remained 2:0 until the 86th minute.

Zachary exploited a gap left by the Rosenborg players—and made another one of his signature-runs through the central midfield.

He picked a loose pass midway inside the center circle, knocked the ball past Ole, outpaced Gjermund Åsen, and was then in the clear, galloping towards Rosenborg's goal.

From there, he set off on a mazy run, dribbling towards four of the Rosenborg defenders. The defenders looked both confused and mesmerized and were unable to challenge him. He quickly found himself at the edge of the box.

When an angle opened up, he lifted his right leg to hit the ball towards the goal. However, two of the defenders jumped-up, while their counterparts slid in to block his shot. They were that afraid of him since he had already scored a long-range effort from that same spot in the first half.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zachary noticed a familiar shadow rush by towards his right. Without taking a glance—to confirm whether the shadow belonged to a teammate or an opponent, he expertly flicked the ball towards the running path of the silhouette. All the while, his eyes were glued to the defenders.

No look—pass.

"Shit!" Zachary heard Simen Wangberg, one of the defenders, swear. The Rosenborg players were—still caught up in their jumps and sliding tackles. They were already committed to blocking Zachary's shot and couldn't readjust in time to defend against the new threat.

Zachary's little pass had taken all the defenders out of the equation, leaving Paul Otterson, NF academy's winger, unmarked on the right side of the box.

The Rosenborg keeper came out to meet him, but before he could get close to the ball, the Swede, who was tumbling to the ground at the time, flicked it over him with his right foot into the net. 3:0. The NF academy was three goals ahead of the Rosenborg B team in the 87th minute.

"GOAALLLLL." Paul ran to the sidelines, shouting and pumping his legs, before doing a few backflips towards the corner flag.

Zachary's mouth twitched noticeably on seeing the high profile celebration of his flatmate. The Swede had celebrated like there was no tomorrow—like he had scored a World Cup winner.

"Go back to your half and defend. Go back...," Coach Johansen shouted from the sidelines.

The NF academy players reorganized themselves into their starting formation on hearing the Coach's instructions. But this was not before Paul came up to Zachary and said: "Nice pass. Thank you."

Zachary shrugged. "All the credit goes to you for the nice run off their defenders. We may not have scored otherwise."

"Any chance you can send me another good pass in the remaining minutes?" Paul grinned. "I would like to score another goal." He whispered.

Zachary looked at his flatmate sharply. "Do you think their midfielders will let me repeat that?" He asked. "Go back to your position and try to fall back and defend when they are attacking. The minutes after scoring are the most dangerous. We need to be careful and keep a clean sheet."

The winger returned to his position—and the match restarted soon after. The Rosenborg players seemed to have received a wake-up call after conceding. They switched their strategy from just defending and started using long balls targeted at Mushaga, their lone striker.

In the 90th minute, Ole Selnæs produced a superb long pass from deep within his half. A mistake—a miskick, from one of the defenders, gifted a chance to a lurking Mushaga. The Rosenborg striker kept his cool and let loose a right-footed shot—that was saved by Kendrick Otterson's extended fingertips. The referee blew his whistle and pointed to the corner.

"Concentrate... Concentrate," Coach Johansen shouted from the sidelines. "The match is not yet done." He sounded angry.

The NF academy players successfully defended the corner. Magnus Blakstad outjumped all the players and headed the ball away from the box after beating his mark.

Ole fired in a rebound from the edge of the box. However, Lars Togstad, one of the academy's center-backs, blocked the resulting carpet shot, sending the ball back towards the midfield.

Three players in dark blue jerseys took off at lightning speed, chasing after it. Zachary was ahead of them. Fists, arms, and legs swinging, he dashed towards the ball that was yet to land in the right-wing.

Tunnel vision set in as he focused solely on the ball that had just bounced on the ground. The cleats of his boots dug into the fine grass of Lerkendal training ground as he upped his speed and beat everyone—including the opposing defenders to the ball. His A agility was no joke at the academy level of soccer. Although he wasn't the fastest, he could easily beat most of his peers for pace.

The ball was mid bounce when he reached it. Zachary didn't pause to control the ball. He bent down slightly and headed it to the front without slowing down one bit.

His deft first touch with his head took him past one defender. Before long, he was sprinting away from a second, and suddenly—seemingly had miles of empty space ahead of him in the right-wing.

Gjermund Åsen, a midfielder who hadn't taken part in the corner-kick, came rushing in to close the ball down, but in so doing, came face to face with Zachary. He had his arms spread out wide like a defending basketball player. His eyes burnt with intensity and his body posture warned Zachary he would use whatever means to take him out no matter the consequences.

Zachary frowned but did not decelerate. He fed the ball past the Rosenborg boy and then left the pitch immediately, taking up the outside lane. Åsen, as most defending midfielders would, sidestepped towards Zachary, hoping to block him off or maybe even upend him.

However, his efforts were futile.

Zachary kept running wider, navigating around Åsen, speeding faster and faster towards the ball. He left the midfielder in the dust and stepped back into the pitch without slowing his pace.

Zachary's lungs screamed for simple breath as he cut diagonally into the pitch and dashed towards the box, with no defender to block his advance. He kept running though, each step mattered. Then, before he knew it, he was almost into the box.

The keeper came out to greet him. Zachary quickly glanced around him for the first time since starting his run. He noticed that the tall Magnus Blakstad had almost matched his pace with his long strides. He had just stepped into the arc of the 18-yard box.

He was at the lead of a pack of players, all chasing after Zachary.

Zachary didn't think twice and just prodded the ball into his path. Magnus coolly slotted the ball into the back of the empty net, bringing NF academy's tally to four goals for that day.

The tall man ran up to Zachary and tried to lift him in a celebratory hug after scoring. However, Zachary wriggled out of his embrace before the rest of the players could join the celebration and smother him.

"Don't you think he's more of a winger than a midfielder?" Coach Bjørn inquired as he glanced at the celebrating academy players.

Coach Johansen cleared his throat. "He plays both positions well. We need to advise him on where to focus most of his efforts. I don't want him wasting his time training for more than one position. I think midfield suits him best since he likes passing the ball even when faced with the keeper one-on-one." The coach had a rare smile plastered on his face.

"We could just try him in the wing and see how he fares against the Rosenborg senior players next Friday," suggested Coach Bjørn. "We need to make sure he's playing in the right position at this critical stage of his career." He added.

"I'll think about it," Coach Johansen said before returning his attention to the match.

The match ended with a score of 4:0 in favor of NF academy.

37 The Strength of a Professional Team

The following Friday.

The autumn afternoon sun bathed Lerkendal Idrettspark in its warm light.

In one of the training grounds in that iconic sports facility of Trondheim, the NF academy faced off against the Rosenborg senior team.

The match had almost no suspense or tension.

Whether it was the teamwork or quality and experience of players, there was no way the NF academy could triumph over the Rosenborg senior team. Even the majority of academy players harbored no illusions of winning the game.

Rosenborg Ballklub was a giant among the clubs in Norway. The team had won 13 consecutive titles—10 under manager Nils Arne Eggen between 1991 through 2004. Rosenborg had even participated in the European Champions League and defeated big clubs like AC Milan. There was no way that 1st-team players of a club with such a rich history could suffer defeat at the hands of a fledgling squad from an associated academy.

Stories of David defeating Goliath were rare in team games like soccer. The game proceeded as expected, with the Rosenborg senior team completely suppressing Zachary and his teammates.

Rosenborg subscribed to an attacking philosophy similar to what their second team had done, faced with the academy, the previous Friday.

Rosenborg's gameplay was driven by teamwork rather than individual brilliance. They moved the ball around the pitch with precise passes and positioned themselves following a textbook perfect 4-4-2 formation. Their team chemistry was remarkable, with each player seemingly aware of their teammates' position, even without looking towards them.

Zachary was outplayed in the midfield—just because the Rosenborg midfielders could easily pass the ball around him without needing to square off against him. Fredrik Winsnes and Bořek Dočkal (Rosenborg's central midfielders) passed the ball quickly into the wings before Zachary got any chance to close them down. They were disciplined and tactically aware, always making sure that they did not leave their defense exposed. Zachary found almost no space to exploit during the match.

Rosenborg was attacking with a maximum player count of four, the wingers always moving forward to support the two strikers. They worked in tandem with the wing-backs, creating 2-versus-1 situations when advancing towards NF academy's half.

On several occasions, they let loose teasing crosses into the NF academy's box, creating problems for the academy team. The inexperienced academy defenders couldn't halt the advance of the speedy wingers and backs.

Steffen Iversen and Rade Prica, the strikers, lead the attack in Rosenborg's 4-4-2 formation. They weighed heavily on the defenders, coordinating their movements between each other to throw the academy defense out of balance. The two were lethal with a good sense of positioning, always outjumping and beating the academy defenders to the crosses—from the wings.

Rade Prica scored two goals with headers after latching on to teasing crosses delivered by the swift wingers in the 12th and 20th minute. Steffen Iversen added to the academy's sorrow by scoring in the 40th minute. He smashed the ball, past Kendrick Otterson, into the back of the net—after he'd latched on to a lofted pass into the box.

By the end of the first half, the academy team was already three goals down. The Rosenborg team had a ball possession of about 80%, by Zachary's estimation.

"You guys played a shitty game," Coach Johansen complained to the players in the dressing room. Zachary and his teammates were in the half-time break, listening to the coach's instructions.

"Especially the wing-backs. I'm not happy with your performance. How could you allow wingers to release all those crosses into our box?" The coach frowned at Öyvind Alseth and Martin Lundal.

"Their wingers are not making any fancy runs or dribbles. Just try blocking their crosses, and everything will be fine." The coach scowled at the two wing-backs.

All the players remained silent as they waited for their Coach to continue. Some chugged down water from their bottles while others sat languidly, with bleary-eyes, on the benches in the dressing room. They fanned themselves with their sweat-drenched shirts. The NF academy players looked overly exhausted despite only playing a single half against Rosenborg.

"The game isn't over yet," Coach Johansen continued. "I want to remind you that you'll get a chance to join the Rosenborg squad if you perform well in this game. You should have noticed Trond Henriksen, the assistant coach of Rosenborg, on the touchline. He isn't here just as a coach of the first team, but to scout for potential seedlings to be nurtured by the club. So, you have to perform well or ready yourself to join third-tier clubs." The coach paused, letting his gaze roam over the players.

"One more thing," the coach intoned. "We'll be using your performance in this game to determine which players will be released by the academy in this year's review. And, we are also selecting the main squad for the Riga Cup. If you do well, you'll get the chance to head to Latvia and test your skills against academies from the rest of Europe..."

The Coach continued using both promises and threats to motivate the players during the half time break. Zachary sat on the floor in the corner, munching on some fried peanuts. He had wanted to compete against the senior players of Rosenborg. However, his teammates lacked the physical capability and technical skills to challenge the experienced top league players.

Zachary had to find a way to score, or he would fail a system mission and lose 160 Juju-points as a penalty by the system.

Before the match, he'd accepted a mission to score a goal during the game. The rewards included 80 juju points, enough to buy him a few elixirs in the system shop. He wanted to purchase a few doses of the physical conditioning elixir to help train his agility to the next level in the following few months.

Zachary had realized he could become a formidable player if he could improve one of his physical stats to the S grade. His agility stat was the current focus for improvement.

If he could further increase his speed, he would possess the required arsenal to destroy defenders even at the professional level. Being suppressed by the Rosenborg players in the first half had only strengthened his resolve.

The Zinedine Visual Juju relied a great deal on teammates to work its magic in a match. With strong teammates, he could stand out with his passes and vision, heavily impacting the game. However, if his teammates performed below par, he too would be affected. Zachary needed skills that could enable him to perform despite the condition of his teammates. Dribbling and speed were his best options at that moment.

"Zach," Coach Johansen called out to him, breaking his reverie. "Are you with us?" The coach frowned.

"Yes, coach," Zachary replied, correcting his posture by sitting upright. He didn't want to give his coach the impression that he had given up on the match.

Coach Johansen looked at Zachary sharply. "Swap positions with Kim and play on the left-wing during the second half. Leave the defense for the rest and concentrate solely on attacking. You'll get a few chances to run at the defenders. Use them wisely and try to test their keeper before the game ends." The coach instructed.

"Coach, what about the midfield?" Magnus asked, on hearing the coach's instructions. He was the defensive midfielder and was right to be worried about Zachary's swap. Removing Zachary from the midfield would increase his workload for the game.

"Kim will play with you in the midfield," Coach Johansen replied. "Your only role is to defend and prevent the Rosenborg players from threatening our box through the middle. If you happen to win the ball, release it towards Zachary in the wings. We need to score at least one goal before the match ends."

Magnus frowned but kept silent. The coach's words in the dressing room were law.

"Kasongo." The coach turned to the short guy. "I need you to keep falling back and help in the defense against their wingers. You can switch wings with Zachary if there are opportunities he needs to exploit via the right-wing. Understood?"

"Yes, coach," Kasongo replied.

38 A Clinical Player

The second half started soon after. Rosenborg's senior team maintained its dominance. The club outplayed the academy players, leaving them with no chance to create scoring opportunities for themselves.

They dictated the gameplay and created several other chances at goal in the first 30 minutes of the 2nd half. However, the NF academy had arrayed into something similar to an 8-2 formation.

Their five defenders and three midfielders all defended desperately against Rosenborg's attacks in their half. Eight men were always behind the ball as they withstood attack after attack from the senior team. Even Örjan Börmark, the lone striker, helped in the defensive midfield. Their efforts paid off—and they did not concede another goal.

Zachary was the only forward on the center-line in the left-wing. He was guarded by Jim Larsen, one of Rosenborg's center backs, the entire time.

"You guys are boring," Jim Larsen said, pretending to yawn. "How did you manage to put four goals past our under-19 team? It seems like they were sleeping the whole game. Those kids!" The defender's tone was somewhat dramatic.

Zachary didn't reply. He had no verbal counter for the defender's jabs. He had waited for the entire half without touching the ball. The NF Academy hadn't gotten any shot on goal from the beginning of the second half.

Zachary had wanted to return to his half—to help his teammates, instead of conversing with the Rosenborg defenders. However, Coach Johansen continued reminding him to cool his heels without backing the defense. His only role was to wait for the ball and utilize whatever chances could come along his way—however scarce they were. The opportunities were close to none except in the latter part of the half.

In the 80th minute, Zachary finally received a pass from Magnus that had caught the Rosenborg players off-guard. The incoming ball was not the best. However, it bounced in the open space in the left-wing and could be contested by anyone.

Zachary's blood boiled with excitement as adrenaline flooded his veins. He set off before Jim Larsen could react and bolted towards the ball. That split-second faster-reaction was all that mattered to leave the Rosenborg center-back in the dust.

In a flash, he reached the ball before it went out of play—and raced towards the Rosenborg box. He cut into the pitch unobstructed since the Rosenborg players had all been attacking in the other half, except for their two center backs.

Per Rönning, the other center-back came running diagonally to close down Zachary. But the number-5 had made a mistake, attempting to close down Zachary with his back facing him. Zachary flicked the ball back and forth between his left and right feet as he advanced wavily towards the Rosenborg box.

Per Rönning kept backing off while turning from side to side until it was too late. Zachary had dribbled past the center back with just a simple change of pace and was one-on-one with the keeper. The chasing defenders could not keep up with him once he got past them.

A feint then sent him around goalkeeper Daniel Örlund and allowed him to slot the ball into the empty net. 3:1. The NF academy had finally put one past the Rosenborg defense despite having only one shot at goal the entire match.

"DING"

Zachary couldn't contain his happiness as he heard the familiar system notification going off within his mind. He'd completed the system mission and scored a goal. He finally had enough capital to purchase some elixirs from the system shop for his next training plan.

Trond Henriksen, the assistant coach of Rosenborg, approached Coach Boyd Johansen after Zachary had scored the goal.

"That's one clinical player," Coach Henriksen said, without bothering with any greetings. The two coaches had already met before the match began. "His efficiency and ball handling are at the level of the first team. Was he that fast when he joined?"

Coach Johansen removed his attention from the celebrating academy players and smiled. "I don't think so." He shook his head. "He has been improving rapidly over the past year. He's a very hard-working kid. I'm sure he'll continue to get faster and better over the coming year."

"Seems like Mr. Stein's vision is still as sharp as ever." Coach Henriksen nodded. "How old is he now?"

"16 years and making 17 in a few months. Our doctors have already confirmed his skeletal age."

"So, about one more year to go," Coach Henriksen mumbled, returning his attention to the match.

Zachary's goal seemed to have pocked a hornets' nest. Rosenborg attacked with newfound vigor, applying immense pressure on the NF academy team. The balls smashed off goalposts—shots missed by mere inches, as the senior team bore down on the academy's goal.

However, the goddess of luck seemed to be on the side of the NF academy. The team narrowly survived conceding goals in the final minutes of the game. The game ended 3:1 in favor of Rosenborg. However, NF academy had managed to score with only a single shot at the goal, courtesy of Zachary Bemba.

"We have reviewed your request," Coach Henriksen intoned after the referee blew the final whistle. "The team management also wants him to gain some experience from international matches." The coach smiled. "However, we require a commitment from him before he travels out of the country. He should understand that we are investing in him as a potential Rosenborg player. We don't want to hear he's run off to another club after the tournament in Riga. You can work out the details with Mr. Stein on how to handle this."

"Thank you," Coach Johansen said, smiling.

"Will you be taking your position on the second team right away?" Coach Henriksen inquired, diverting the topic away from Zachary.

"Not yet." Coach Johansen shook his head. "I would like to win one of the tournaments before leaving the academy. The Riga and SIA cups will look good on my CV." The coach smiled.

Coach Henriksen gave his colleague an arch look. "You're that sure that you'll win? Those are tournaments with serious club academies like Manchester City, PSV, Valencia, and Atalanta."

Coach Johansen half-smiled. "With Zachary, we have a pretty good chance."

"What plans do you have for him?"

"We'll design a good training plan for him to improve his speed and ball-handling over the next few months. By February, his pace should be at another level if he continues progressing."

"Just don't forget to run everything by old man Stein," Coach Henriksen warned.

Coach Johansen frowned but nodded after a moment of deliberation.

Thanks for reading. Please do vote for the book. Gracias.

This chapter concludes the annual review matches for the academy players. Stay tuned for plot development tomorrow.