READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 2: Family.
BANG! BANG! BOOM!
The shots weren't particularly accurate, but for Marcus, that wasn't the priority. With each strike, he experienced a profound, inexplicable thrill as the ball soared through the air. It didn't matter whether the ball found the back of the net or veered wildly off target.
Marcus smiled as he dusted off his hands and adjusted his stance for another attempt. This simple act of kicking the ball, of focusing all his energy on a single action, reminded him of why he fell in love with the game in the first place.
'This is what I've been missing. This feeling, I love it!'
By the time he finished his tenth set of long-range shots, the training pitch was cast in long shadows, and the once-empty grounds began to fill with movement. It was 7:00 PM, and the other trainees were streaming out of the dormitories, heading across the field toward the cafeteria.
Among the clusters of young players, one group drew particular attention. At the centre of the group was Ian, the team's self-proclaimed "star player." With his golden hair gleaming under the lights and a confident swagger in his step, he looked every bit the leader of his entourage.
"Hey, Ian! Look at that guy," one of his lackeys said, nudging Ian with a laugh. "He's still out there practicing. What a joke!"
Ian followed the gesture and narrowed his eyes at the lone figure on the pitch. His lips curled into a smirk.
"Hah! That idiot really thinks he's going to make it by staying out late and kicking a ball around? Let him be. No amount of training is going to fix a talentless hack like him," Ian sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.
Back on the field, Marcus was oblivious to the ridicule. He had picked up the ball and was heading toward the equipment room. His mind, however, was elsewhere, completely absorbed by the glowing blue screen floating in his field of vision.
[Skill: Long Shot Lv1]
[Proficiency: 58/100]
[Description]: You've begun to feel the thrill of long-range shots and are practicing diligently. However, your power and accuracy are still far from ideal. You yearn for the moment when you level up and improve.
[Current Attributes]: F-level accuracy, moderate power, F-level balance.
Marcus's eyes lit up as he studied the screen. There it was—progress. Tangible proof that his effort wasn't in vain.
"At this rate, I'll level up my long-shot skill to Lv2 in two or three days."
The corner of his lips tugged upward.
'The system said I could adjust my attributes once I level up. What should I prioritize—accuracy? Power? Maybe balance?'
But as his excitement grew, doubt crept into his mind. One question lingered, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.
"How do I unlock new skills?" he muttered, glancing at the system.
Long shots were essential for a forward or midfielder like him, especially in a trial setting where every goal mattered. But Marcus knew he couldn't rely on just one skill forever. Football was a dynamic sport, and versatility was the key to survival in a team like Manchester United.
He squinted at the screen, hoping it would reveal some sort of hint or hidden tutorial. "Maybe there's something like a status window..."
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[Name]: Marcus Hallway
[Age]: 17
[Current Club]: Manchester United [Youth Trial Player]
[Preferred Foot]: Right Foot
[Weak Foot]: 2.5/5
[Position]: Right Winger, Attacking Midfielder, Pseudo-Striker
[Skills]:
Long Shot [Lv1]
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Marcus stared at the status screen for a long moment, his mind racing. Unlike the RPG games he used to play, this system wasn't filled with flashy icons or elaborate menus.
This is different. It's not a game; it's reality, he thought, running a hand through his damp hair.
"Hey, Marc! Are you coming to eat, or are you planning to sleep on the pitch?"
A familiar voice pulled him back to the present. Marcus turned to see Carl waving at him from a distance, his dark curls bobbing as he jogged closer.
"I'm coming, man!" Marcus called back with a grin, jogging to meet him halfway.
Carl was one of the few people Marcus could call a true friend in the academy. Both of them were French, which made it easy for them to bond early on. However, unlike Marcus, Carl had a bright future ahead. In Marcus's previous life, Carl had gone on to become one of the best left-backs in France, playing for top clubs like PSG.
"Still training? You've got to be careful not to wreck your body," Carl said, glancing at Marcus's sweat-soaked shirt.
"Yeah, I know. Don't worry—I'm not overdoing it," Marcus replied before shooting him a curious look. "By the way, have you decided on your position yet?"
Carl hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I told the coach I want to play as a left-back."
"Left-back, huh? Is that because of Ian?" Marcus asked, his tone serious.
Carl's expression darkened. "...Yeah. He threatened me and told me to stay away from centre-back if I knew what was good for me. You know his dad's the chief scout."
Marcus clenched his fists. He remembered all too well how Ian and his father had abused their power in his previous life. Marcus had been one of their many victims, his potential crushed under their schemes.
'Not this time,' Marcus vowed silently. 'This time, I'll send both Ian and his father packing.'
"Forget him," Marcus said, clapping Carl on the shoulder. "You'll shine as a left-back—I'm sure of it."
Carl smiled faintly. "Thanks, Marc. Let's eat before the cafeteria closes. Tomorrow's tactical meeting isn't going to be fun on an empty stomach."
The cafeteria was lively, filled with the hum of chatter and the clinking of cutlery. Marcus piled his tray high with protein-packed dishes and nutritious sides.
His mouth watered as he sat down. 'Tch—I was such a fool to skip these meals and waste time clubbing in my past life.'
Carl raised an eyebrow as Marcus dug in with an almost animalistic enthusiasm. "You're going to choke if you keep eating like that," he said, laughing.
Marcus ignored the stares and kept eating, his mind already planning for the next day.
After dinner, Marcus returned to his dorm, showered, and flopped onto his bed. The status screen appeared in his mind once more.
"System, how can I unlock new skills?"
[...]
No response.
Marcus sighed, but his resolve didn't waver. "Fine. I'll figure it out myself."
Just as he was about to close his eyes, his phone buzzed.
"How have you been these past few days?" his uncle's voice came through.
"Not bad. I've made some good progress, but I don't know if I can stay," Marcus replied honestly. He remembered his uncle, who treated him very well even after he came back home without achieving anything.
Though he didn't support his football career, he was far from opposing it. However, with the pressures of life and his aunt, it had become harder for them to support him.
If they were really worried about wasting money, they wouldn't have let him choose this path when he was a child.
"It'd be great if you could stay. If not, come back here. I'll help you find an apprenticeship job, and you can work your way up. Do you still have enough money?"
"I've got enough," Marcus nodded. They usually slept in the dormitory, and meals were provided in the training base's cafeteria, so there weren't many expenses.
Especially since Coach Hans had lent him a pair of football shoes, he had no major worries.
"Your little cousin has been looking for you. Let me put her on. Eva!"
"Brother! Did you eat? When are you coming home?" Eva's cheerful voice brought a rare smile to Marcus's face.
"I'm doing well, Eva. I'll come home soon—hopefully after you see me play on TV."
"Really?!" Eva exclaimed, her excitement infectious. "Don't forget, you promised to take me out for pizza!"
"I haven't forgotten," Marcus said softly, his heart swelling with warmth.
After hanging up, his phone buzzed again with a text notification. His uncle had deposited €300 into his account, along with a message:
"It's been a while since you bought football shoes. Get yourself a pair tomorrow. I can't do much, but I hope you achieve your dream at United."
Marcus stared at the message for a long time, his chest tightening with emotion. Uncontrollably, a surge of motivation erupted within him, filling his entire being. He felt like he wasn't alone.
"Tomorrow, I'll bring more balls to improve efficiency and ensure I reach Lv2!"
Perhaps due to exhaustion or his shifting emotions, Marcus slept soundly that night.