The night was peaceful, with insects chirping and the cool wind rustling through the trees like a gentle dance. Winston couldn't get comfortable in bed. He tossed and turned, shifting from one side to the other until he finally gave up and reached for his phone.
Maybe the internet has a solution.
Before trying any of the suggestions he found online, Winston typed out everything he had recently experienced—the strange exhaustion, the sudden burst of energy, and his inability to sleep.
Nothing helped—sleep continued to elude him. He got out of bed and dropped to the floor, doing push-ups until his arms began to ache. When he finished, he sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for the exhaustion to settle in.
Nothing—he wasn't even tired. Winston began pacing around his room, growing increasingly frustrated. Eventually, he decided to look for a solution in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom down the hallway.
He took two sleeping pills and returned to his room. Lying on his bed, Winston opened the Core System and swiped through its menus.
Maybe I missed something.
He wished the Core System had a manual—or at least some kind of tutorial explaining what everything meant.
What do these Core Levels even mean? Are they affecting my sleep?
Tired of staring at the same information, Winston shut the system and grabbed his phone. He began texting Busisiwe, but she didn't reply. He sighed and tossed the phone aside.
Fine. He dropped to the floor again and started doing push-ups and sit-ups. Maybe if I reach a certain number, exhaustion will finally make me pass out. 200... 201... 202... 203... 204... 205... 206... 207... 208... 209... 210...
Vroom!
The sudden sound of tires pulling into the driveway jolted Winston out of his rhythm. He dragged himself upright and glanced toward the window. His eyes widened. The sky outside was already bright.
Morning?
Winston stared in disbelief. He had completely lost track of time. Then he noticed his father's car pulling into the driveway. He couldn't believe it. He had stayed awake the entire night, alternating between push-ups and sit-ups, yet exhaustion had never come.
Sweat dripped from his body, his muscles ached, and yet he still felt strangely energetic. Winston opened the window. The cool morning breeze washed over his overheated body, giving him a moment of relief. He looked toward the rising sun.
I really stayed up all night... After a moment of hesitation, a grin spread across his face. Maybe I should get to the training ground early.
***
Winston chose to begin his workout at the gym upon arriving at the club's training grounds. He was motivated to continue improving, so he arrived ahead of schedule.
Maybe I should hit the treadmill first, just to balance out my upper and lower body.
As the hours passed, more youth players began pouring into the gym. They were surprised to see Winston there so early, already lifting dumbbells.
"Why is he here? I thought he was taking two days off."
"I guess he got bored. Or maybe this is all he knows. I've never seen him with friends. Even at the training ground on the other side of the city, he's always training alone."
"He really wants that first-eleven spot."
"Wouldn't you? I mean, there are two strikers, and both of them have played in the senior league. Wouldn't you want to improve so you could play there again?"
"You're right, but Maximilian has been putting in work. The striker coach has been training him."
"I heard he's being paid to train Maximilian one-on-one."
"No wonder he sometimes doesn't attend training with us."
"Yep. Poor Winston, though. He has no one to train him, even though he's showing great promise."
"Well, that's how it works when you have money. I mean, Maximilian is burning through his own life savings just to get back to the senior team."
"Damn, he really wants to go back. What happened to him? Why was he demoted to the junior league?"
"From what I heard, he was a promising new signing, but he let the fame get to his head. He started missing training and partying all night. He did score goals, but the fans didn't like him disrespecting the club, so they demoted him."
"That's tough. Now we're getting high-level competition between two former senior-league players. I wonder who will be the first to get signed back to the senior league. If I had to place a bet, I'd confidently choose Maximilian."
"Well, my money is on Winston. Even though he doesn't have much confidence when he's on the ball, and he doesn't have a personal mentor, I think he'll give Maximilian problems."
Of course, Winston had been eavesdropping on the conversation. He pretended to be listening to music through his wireless earphones. His hunch had been right. What he noticed during the last training session he attended before fainting was now confirmed by what these two youths had said.
He hadn't realized that Maximilian was paying for one-on-one sessions, nor had he expected him to go to such lengths to achieve his goal. Now everything had changed. Winston really needed a mentor.
The coaches he frequently saw around the training grounds were either too expensive or already occupied. Winston stopped and sat on the bench, thinking about whom he could ask. He didn't know anyone who would train him for free.
Most of the salary he used to receive while playing for the reserve team in the senior league had barely been enough to cover food at home. That was why he still relied on his parents.
What should I do? Maybe I should ask Oswin. Maybe he knows someone affordable who can train me.
"Hey, guys! Training is starting. Coach said all players need to be at the training ground," called one of the club staff members, who was wearing a club tracksuit.
Winston was still lost in thought as he packed his things. "Hey, man, you're back. How are you feeling?"
Winston glanced over his shoulder and noticed the club staff member stretching out his hand for a fist bump. Winston raised his own hand.
"Nice to see you back. That last training session—you really did your thing. Everyone was impressed."
Winston replied calmly, "Thank you. I'm just trying to improve myself."
"For sure. Listen, there was a lady—a businesswoman—looking for you. She was wearing a suit, and she was gorgeous too."
The staff member lowered his voice at the last part. He looped an arm around Winston's shoulders, and the strong fragrance of coffee wafting from him tickled Winston's nose.
"Hook a brother up. I didn't know you knew a fine woman."
Winston gave a subtle chuckle and nodded. Truthfully, he had no idea who the staff member was talking about. He couldn't remember meeting any businesswoman who fit that vague description.
Afterward, Winston headed to the training ground with the others. They began with some fundamental warm-up exercises. Winston was still surprised that he wasn't exhausted. His stamina remained at its peak, as though he had gotten a full eight hours of sleep.
"Glad to see you back, bru." Oswin gave Winston a smirk, clearly pleased by his return. He viewed Winston as a rival—and a great one at that. They were the same age, yet Winston had already tasted what Oswin dreamed of: playing at the senior level.
"How are you feeling, bru?"
"I'm good, bro. Yeah, I got a full rest. Now I just hope the coach still puts me in the first eleven."
Winston paused before adding, "Oswin, do you know anyone who does one-on-one, in-person training?"
"Winston, come over here." The head coach called him from the sideline while watching the youth players perform their drills.
"How are you feeling? I hope you got enough rest. I know I'm supposed to give you two days off, but our schedule changed. Our next club match is in the town over, and the entire team has already prepared its stuff."
The coach studied Winston for a moment. "Seeing that you're fine, don't worry about it. I talked to your parents, and they agreed that once you're fully rested, you can join us."
Winston felt grateful that the Core System had upgraded his stamina, physical attributes, and speed. When the coach glanced at him again, he noticed the determination shining in Winston's eyes. He knew very well that nothing could stop someone with that kind of steadfastness.
"Okay. After practice, report to the staff members. They'll take your suitcase and gym bag."
"Will do, Coach."
The coach walked away. Winston let out a deep sigh, his chest loosening after the conversation. It had tightened earlier when the head coach summoned him. He straightened his posture, resisting the onset of exhaustion.
Luckily, it worked. Though, in truth, he didn't need to force himself anymore. His stamina and physical strength had recently been restored.