Winston woke earlier than expected. Reaching for the phone beside his bed, he checked the time.
4:30 a.m.
He dragged himself out of bed and walked over to the window. Outside, darkness still blanketed the neighborhood. Not wanting to wait for the summer sun to begin blazing overhead, Winston decided to go for an early morning run. Although the training ground wouldn't open for several more hours, there was nothing stopping him from running around his suburban neighborhood.
It had been a long time since he had explored the area. The last time he had really wandered its streets was when his family first moved there.
Located a few kilometers north of the city, the neighborhood was known as one of the safest—and most expensive—places to live. Westminster's training ground, on the other hand, was situated near the southern edge of the city. Getting there usually meant relying on public transport, and Winston lived on the eastern side of the suburb, making the journey even longer.
Before moving here, he had lived much closer to the training ground downtown. Back then, he and his friends spent countless afternoons playing football on an old, worn-out pitch riddled with holes. Oddly enough, they loved it even more after it rained. They would laugh as they slipped into puddles and stumbled over the uneven ground. A few years later, Westminster renovated the pitch as part of one of the club's community outreach projects.
Those memories were among the reasons Winston fell in love with football. But the one he treasured most went back even further. When he was five or six years old, his father would occasionally take him to local football matches. They didn't go often—his father worked long hours—but whenever they did, Winston watched him play with admiration from the sidelines. Those moments were where his dream truly began.
This is far enough. I should head back, wash up, and get to the training ground before meeting Oswin.
Winston turned around and sprinted home at full speed. He wanted to test his stamina while monitoring his breathing, counting each burst before slowing down to recover. Five minutes—that was his limit. The moment he pushed past it, his chest tightened and his lungs began to burn, forcing him to slow to a jog.
I need to start lifting weights again. This is pathetic. The last time I trained with weights was when I was with the senior team.
"Oh, you're home early. I thought you'd be back much later."
"The training ground doesn't open until seven or eight," Winston replied. "I just wanted to warm up by running around the neighborhood. I'll also be meeting my friend this afternoon, so I need to pack both my training gear and some casual clothes."
His mother smiled. "I'm happy you're taking time to enjoy yourself and meet new people."
"Thanks, Mom." Winston looked her over. "You look nice. Where are you going?"
"Thank you, baby. Your sister and I are going shopping. A new store just opened."
She pointed toward the kitchen. "By the way, your breakfast is in the microwave. Make sure you eat before heading out."
"C'mon, Mom!" Anita called from the front door. "Let's hurry before someone buys all the nice clothes!"
Winston chuckled and waved them goodbye as they backed out of the driveway. Still drenched in sweat, he hurried inside and devoured his breakfast before rushing upstairs to pack his training gear and a change of casual clothes.
As he zipped up his bag, a notification from the Core System appeared. Curious, Winston opened it—his eyes widened—the short sprint he had just completed had actually increased some of his basic attributes.
Wait... even that counted as training?
[User boosted skills]
Pace +1
Physical +1
so those sprintinSo sprinting actually boosted my pace, physical stats, and stamina. I wonder if I can keep increasing them by doing these drills.g drills boosted my pace, physical and stamina, I wonder if I can keep boosting them up.
Pace
Acceleration: 70
Sprint speed: 70
Physical
Physical: 66 +1
Stamina: 66 +1
Strength: 61 +1
Winston hurried out of the house. This time, instead of jogging or running, he walked toward the public transport stop. He wanted time to study his stats and focus on improving a single category.
Up until now, he had been experimenting with different drills, trying to discover which exercises boosted his attributes the fastest. Even the skills he had selected a few days earlier were chosen through trial and error. At first, all he wanted was a place in the starting eleven.
Now... He wanted to become the best striker at Westminster F.C. While waiting for the traffic light to turn green, Winston pulled out his phone. With the screen dark, he discreetly opened the Core System's interface, making it appear as though he was simply checking his phone.
Today, I should focus on my physical attributes. If I don't improve them, I'll either stay on the bench or get substituted again. The only reason I scored in the last match was because the daily challenge improved my form. Before that, I was playing terribly.
I'm still surprised I managed to score. My shot power is good, but without proper technique, I can't keep relying on luck. Training resumes tomorrow. I'll ask the coaches for extra physical sessions. Until then, I'll do whatever I can to improve.
"Winston, my boy! I see you're working hard again."
Winston looked up and smiled. "Good morning, Mr. Groundskeeper."
"Morning. You've been putting in a lot of effort lately."
"I have. Ever since I got the chance to play with the seniors, I've wanted to earn my way back there."
The groundskeeper chuckled. "I watched that match. Back then, you still had a lot to learn. But look at you now—you've got a different fire in your eyes." He crossed his arms. "I also heard you scored your first Under-21 goal."
"I did," Winston replied with a modest smile. "Even though I only came on for the last few minutes."
"Minutes don't matter. Goals do. Keep this up and your coach won't be able to ignore your talent."
They chatted for a while before the groundskeeper handed Winston a few pieces of training equipment and left him to continue his drills. Hours later, Winston's alarm rang. He quickly packed everything away, rushed into the changing room for a quick shower, changed into casual clothes, and headed into town.
He took his usual shortcut through a narrow alley that cut across the busy downtown streets. As he emerged from the other side, the aroma of freshly baked pastries immediately caught his attention.
His stomach growled. Walking into the bakery, he heard a familiar voice.
"We're still closed." Looking up, Winston spotted Busisiwe sitting alone behind the counter, typing on her laptop.
"Oh," Winston said. "When do you open? I'm meeting a friend here."
Busisiwe glanced over the edge of her laptop before smiling.
"Oh, Winston. Oswin told me you'd be coming." She stood up and straightened her apron.
"While you're waiting, would you like something to eat?"
"Yeah. One classic pie and a soft drink."
As she prepared his order, Winston asked, "How do you know Oswin? Were you two dating?"
Busisiwe nearly laughed. "Heck no. Ew." She shook her head. "Believe it or not, we're cousins."
"Oh."
"I'm surprised he never mentioned it. He's been talking nonstop about you ever since he found out you two play on the same team." She smiled. "When he heard you'd played in the Supreme League a few months ago, he acted like a high school girl."
Winston laughed. "Really?"
"Oh, definitely." She placed a fresh pie into a warmer. "His dream has always been to play in the Supreme League too."
Her smile faded slightly. "But he suffered a serious injury and had to sit out for almost a year. He missed his opportunity."
"That's rough."
"It really was."
She paused, trying to remember something. "What was the name of that club again...?"
Clink.
The shop door opened.
"I knew I'd find you here." Oswin walked in carrying his training bag.
"You ready?" Seeing the bag over Oswin's shoulder, Winston realized something. So he's training just as hard as I am. His carefree personality really was just a mask.
"Yeah," Winston said. "Let's go."
"See you later, Busi."
"Bye," Winston added. "Thanks for the pie."
"You're welcome. Come back anytime."
The two friends left the bakery and made their way through the busy streets, weaving between office workers, cyclists, and passing taxis.
Oswin nudged Winston. "So... I see someone's training hard. Trying to steal Maximilian's spot in the starting eleven?"
"You know it." Winston grinned. "After the last match, I finally understood how far behind I still am."
He glanced at Oswin's training bag. "I also noticed you've been training."
"Hehehe... you caught me. I've been practicing some of the skills from our last game. I felt rusty."
A moment later, Oswin looked over. "By the way, you never told me how you got selected for the Supreme League."
"It wasn't anything special," Winston replied.
"A few senior players got injured. I'd already been training as a reserve, so when they needed someone, they picked me. That match was my debut."
"Damn..." Oswin whistled. "You got lucky."
"Maybe." Winston shrugged.
"Enough about me. With your talent, you should've been promoted already." Oswin scratched the back of his head. "I would've. My injury happened at the worst possible time. Before it happened, I'd already trained with the senior team."
"Which club wanted to sign you?"
"Western Park F.C."
Winston stopped walking. "No way. The fourth-biggest club in the league?"
Oswin nodded with a bittersweet smile. "When they approached me, I couldn't sleep for days."
"That's insane."
As they continued walking, Winston found himself thinking about how close both of them had come to achieving their dreams. At the same time, he realized something.
When he'd first been promoted to the senior team, he had become complacent. He thought simply reaching the senior squad meant he could develop at his own pace. That decision had cost him dearly. The coaches had promoted him because they believed his talent would continue to grow naturally.
Instead, his progress slowed. He had focused almost entirely on improving his shooting, which explained why it was one of his highest-rated attributes.
Now, everything was different. The Core System had given him a clear path toward becoming a football legend. It wasn't simply increasing his stats. It was teaching him discipline. It forced him to train with purpose, measure his growth, and constantly improve.
Winston smirked. Then he clenched his fist. This time... I won't waste my chance.