The next day, James took the training in a different direction. It was no longer about high-tempo scrimmages or fluid team matches like the previous day. Instead, he dialed things back. They were doing elementary drills. Basic stuff. At least on the surface. The purpose wasn't to waste time. James had a plan. He wanted to see where each player stood. Not as a unit. As individuals. He needed to understand their core mechanics. Where they were solid. Where they needed help. Where they were completely out of their depth.
He stood in the middle of the pitch, his whistle still hanging from his neck, eyes sharp and focused.
"Now some of you might have done well yesterday and still not be good enough." His voice was calm but had weight behind it. His eyes landed on Valen for a second before drifting elsewhere. "While some of you might be very good and had an off game. This is your chance at redemption. Of course, it won't overwrite the result of yesterday's training, but it's another chance for you to try and impress me."
Valen saw the glance. He felt the words. He knew they weren't meant to single him out in a negative way. Maybe someone else might have felt that way. Might have thought James was holding a grudge or sending a message. But Valen didn't feel that. Not at all.
In fact, it motivated him.
To Valen, that look said something different. It said, so you improved. Prove it to me then.
And that was all the fuel he needed.
When it came to practical drills, Valen never considered himself bad. Actually, he was decent. More than decent. He knew how to perform the techniques. Passing. Dribbling. Movement. Positioning. All of it. The fundamentals were ingrained in him. He could execute all the motions coaches looked for. He just couldn't always apply them when it really mattered. In high pressure. In chaos. During matches.
That was always his issue. His footballing mind outpaced his body. He saw plays unfolding seconds before they did. But by the time his body reacted, the moment was gone. That gap between thought and execution had cost him more chances than he could count.
But that was then.
Now, everything was different.
The system had come into his life and changed everything. His torn ACL, the injury that had held him back for so long, had been healed. Properly. No pain. No tightness. No hesitation in movement. For the first time in years, his body didn't feel like dead weight. It felt responsive. Sharp. Explosive. It could finally keep up with his brain.
He felt it the moment he jogged onto the pitch. His body was no longer fighting against him. It was in sync. And that gave him confidence. Not blind arrogance. But a strong belief that he could now execute things the way he had always wanted to.
As he got into position for the first drill, he felt that all too familiar notification ring in his head.
[Ding! Host has been given a mission]
[Mission: Host's coach has been left impressed by host's performance during the training matchup yesterday, however, is still not convinced enough to hand you a spot in the starting eleven. Impress your coach and stamp your place in the starting eleven]
[Deadline: 31 days]
[Reward: +5 randomly distributed stat points]
[Failure penalty: System will be disabled for six months]
He blinked and instinctively read through it. A mission? Welp, I guess that's to be expected. The system wasn't exactly the passive type. If anything, it thrived on pressure.
His eyes scanned the reward again. Plus five randomly distributed stat points? That meant the system could directly improve his performance. Like, actually make him better. Not just give him advice or theory. That made sense though. It healed his ACL. Of course it could tweak things physically.
He thought about his current stat screen. Letters. No numbers. That part still confused him. How were letters supposed to reflect actual performance? It reminded him of those old school grading systems. A to F. But this wasn't school. This was football. Either way, that was a future him problem.
His eyes lingered on the penalty.
System disabled for six months?
He nearly dropped to the ground.
No. He couldn't afford that. Not now. Not when things were finally aligning. Not when he was finally fit, finally playing well, finally getting noticed.
I can't have that. I definitely can't have that. I really do need to start a match within a month.
He let out a small sigh. Not loud enough for anyone to notice, but deep enough to release the pressure that had been building in his chest. Normally, the task wouldn't seem that bad. Impress your coach. Not impossible. But with his past reputation, his inconsistency, and the doubts that surrounded him, he understood why James might hesitate. James wasn't here to gamble. He was here to win. And that meant playing it safe.
Valen understood.
But that didn't mean he was going to let it stop him.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath.
Training started. Valen turned the switch. He didn't play with nerves. He didn't try to overdo things. He just played smart. Efficient. Clean.
And it worked.
He was, without a doubt, the best performer that day. Every pass was deliberate. Every dribble sharp. His movement was tight, controlled, but never stiff. His turns were fluid. His awareness was on point. Even the coaches took notice. One of them stopped scribbling just to watch him move.
It wasn't flashy. It wasn't theatrical. But it was effective.
They did sprint tests as well. Valen didn't top the charts, but he didn't need to. He came in the top ten. That was more than enough. His speed wasn't blistering, but it was quick. Functional. Dangerous in the right moments.
The team did more drills. Passing routines. Crossing scenarios. One-twos under pressure. Valen kept shining. His performances were stacking up. One after the other. Quietly but clearly, he was making his mark.
The following day, the training shifted again. James broke the squad into units. Forwards. Midfielders. Defenders. Goalkeepers. Each group was given position-specific drills. The forwards had the most complex setup. A series of dynamic attacking scenarios. It wasn't just about finishing. It was about reading the play, making the right run, picking the right pass, and executing in tight spaces.
Valen fit right in.
No. He stood out.
He made the right runs. Played the smart passes. Controlled the tempo. Finished cleanly. Composed in front of goal. Dangerous in space. Relentless off the ball. He was involved in everything. That session left a mark. Players noticed. Coaches noticed. And James definitely noticed.
Three straight days of standout performances.
That was the kind of consistency James always demanded. Work hard. Show hunger. Earn your place. James had preached that to the team since day one. He meant it. He lived it.
Now he had a dilemma.
Valen was forcing his hand. And James didn't like being forced. But at the same time, he knew what was fair. He couldn't preach one thing and do another. It was a balance. Risk versus reward.
The next day's session was tactical. No more free play. No loose drills. It was structure. Strategy. James was laying the foundation for the season. His tactics were direct. Compact defending. Quick transitions. Wingers driving forward. Cut-ins. Late runs. One-two plays. Fast, sharp football. That was his identity.
It just so happened that those tactics suited Valen.
Perfectly.
He thrived in that system. Beat his man? Check. Deliver the final ball? Check. Cut in and shoot? Double check. Everything James needed from a forward, Valen had shown in training. The system wasn't just keeping up with him anymore. It was making him sharper. His awareness in transitions, his decision-making in tight spaces, his movement off the ball. All of it felt refined.
And just like that, the week was over.
Matchday was around the corner.
The squad list was going to be announced. It was the moment Valen had worked for. Every drill. Every sprint. Every goal. All of it came down to this.
After they finished with the training session, James called everyone into the locker room. They would play the first match of the season against Hull City the next day, so he had to announce the squad.
He started with the goalkeepers, and to nobody's surprise, Alex wasn't included. Then the defenders, Maxwell made the squad, and for the midfielders. Sam was obviously included. In that week of training, James didn't make it a secret that he liked Sam very much.
And then it was time for him to announce the forwards. Valen's heart was beating crazily.
"James Morgan, Adam Greenwood, Jeremy Feesher, Valen Alarcon..."
Valen didn't hear the names of the rest of the players that were announced. His head exploded with joy when he heard his name. For the first time in over two years, he was going to play a game. He didn't care if it was a youth game in the second tier of under eighteen football. That didn't matter. What mattered was that he was given a chance, and he was going to take that chance by the scruff of the neck.
After James finished announcing the squad list, he turned to Valen and gave him a faint nod before leaving the locker room.
Valen smiled. Even if he wasn't starting, the manager had put his faith in him. He wasn't going to make him regret it.
A/N:
Hello everyone, if you've been enjoying this book so far, why not vote with a Power Stone. It helps improve the book's visibility so others can find it.
If we manage to hit twenty power stones this week, I'll drop an extra chapter.