It's exactly four thirty-seven in the afternoon. Kelvin's breathing makes his body accelerate, not just his body, but also his heart. He shivers from the sensation but ignores it, keeping his eyes fixed on the ball in front of him. The match is almost over, and knowing that only makes him more nervous, because he's losing.
Standing still at midfield, with the ball at his feet, he looks around and sees his teammates tightly marked, with no chance of a pass.
He looks down at the ball, then at the space ahead of him… He wants to score. He wants to be remembered as the one who tied the match and possibly secured his team's qualification for the national tournament.
But… he can't. He feels a primal emotion—one that destroys confidence and willpower: fear.
Fear of losing the ball and handing it to the opponents. Fear of, instead of being remembered for a brilliant play, being remembered for ruining the match.
In the midst of such anxiety and insecurity, the striker from the opposing team begins to approach.
— Kelvin! Pass it to me!
The voice belongs to his goalkeeper. Quickly and without thinking much, Kelvin turns toward him. At the very moment his foot moves to strike the ball, the fear returns to his mind.
As a result, the pass is far too weak. Still stunned by the failed play, he watches the opponent rush past him at blazing speed and steal the ball.
Kelvin tries to recover, but realizes the player is already too far ahead. Then, a dreadful scene unfolds: Kelvin falls to the grass because of the pass movement and tries to get up but can't. Looking ahead again, he sees only the ball flying at incredible speed toward his team's goal.
He looks at the ground, still trying to process what he's just done. The crowd quickly rises to their feet and starts chanting the striker's name, who, while Kelvin is still on the field, is already celebrating with fist pumps and triumphant screams.
The striker feels amazing, he has just sealed the match with a classic two–nil.
— Kelvin, get up, man.
He turns his head and sees one of his teammates beside him, completely devastated, knowing there was no way to turn things around. Kelvin, wearing the number 11 jersey, feels guilty. He knows that if it weren't for him, the match might still be undecided. Even with these thoughts weighing on him, he gets up.
His team kicks off, and moments later, the referee blows the final whistle.
Number 11 begins gathering his things, which were left on a bench in the locker room, and quietly leaves the place. He felt like the entire team hated him, even if no one said a word, the resentment in the air was obvious.
When he gets home, he completely ignores his mother and father, who ask about the match, and heads straight to his room. His room is filled with football-themed decorations, as well as jerseys from various teams inside his wardrobe.
He sits on his bed and begins to cry like he never has before. He feels terrible, he knows he messed everything up. And not just that, he's convinced he has no talent for football.
Kelvin once dreamed of being seen on TV, scoring goals and celebrating. But now… that dream seems pointless. He believes he has no talent and never will. That match, in his eyes, only served to expose the difference in skill level. Because, in his view, a professional cannot fail. A professional cannot give in to fear…
And that's exactly what he did.
And that's when the system appears before him:
[Player Progression System Activated]
Kelvin jumps up from his bed, startled and scared.
— What is this?
He asks, completely perplexed and frightened by whatever it is.
[Welcome to the Football Player System, Host]
[Name: Kelvin Santos]
[Style: None]
[Level: 0]
[Tutorial Mission: Show Potential]
[In two days, score 10 goals in the top-right corner.]
[Rewards upon completion:]
<1. Increased Shot Accuracy>
<2. Random Style Card>
<3. Increased Shot Speed>
Kelvin gulps. A translucent rectangle floats in front of him, glowing in bluish-green tones, as if projected directly into reality.
> [Accept Mission?]
> Yes
> No
His heart races. "Is this some kind of hallucination?" he wonders, wiping tears from his face. But the panel remains there, still and sharp, unaffected by his doubts.
He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. He remembers the failed pass, the crowd shouting the opponent's name, the teammate devastated beside him. His stomach churns, the same fear returns… and along with it, a spark: a chance at redemption.
He opens his eyes and taps the left side of the panel where it says "Yes."
> [Mission Accepted. Starting Timer.]
[System Note]
Success Rate Exceeds 95%
Kelvin's eyes widen. "Ten goals in the top-right corner… in two days?" The nearest field he knows is the local park, with an old goalpost and torn nets. Even so, he feels something different from the fear that gripped him before—an anxious curiosity, as if fate itself was daring him to act.
But beyond that… he feels like, maybe, this time, he can finally reach his dream.