Disoriented, with drool hanging from the corner of his mouth, Winston stretched his body. He immediately noticed how light it felt. All the tension that had plagued his muscles was gone.
Sitting upright, he scanned the room and realized, to his surprise, that he was back in his hotel room. For a moment, he wondered how he had gotten there—until he remembered that he had been with Dumi.
He shifted to his right, reached for his phone, and noticed that it was already midday. He quickly sprang out of bed and hurried toward the bathroom. Still somewhat dazed from his sleep, he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to train with Dumi, although they hadn't confirmed an exact time.
After washing up, Winston returned to the room and placed his training cleats on the bed. He glanced across the room, excitement bubbling inside him at the thought of training with one of the world's greatest football strikers.
Then his gaze fell on his legs. An overwhelming surge of excitement washed over him. He squeezed his thighs, almost unable to believe what he was feeling. The strange sensations that had plagued his legs were gone, replaced by a completely pain-free feeling.
My legs... they feel normal.
He still struggled to believe it. A brisk, cool breeze suddenly swept through the room, jolting him fully awake. Winston stood up, grabbed his belongings, and headed toward the door.
A wide grin spread across his face. He couldn't contain his excitement. Today, he was going to train with his childhood hero.
Having descended to the hotel's ground floor, Winston walked toward the spacious hallway, his eyes briefly scanning the area around the receptionist's desk.
As he approached, he spotted Dumi leaning against the desk, talking with his daughter. Annalise stretched her neck to get a better look over her father's shoulder. Dumi slowly turned around, keeping one arm propped against the desk.
"Rise and shine. How are you feeling, kid?"
"Ye... yes! Thank you so much for helping me," Winston replied, rubbing the back of his head.
"Don't worry about it, kid. I already talked to your head coach about becoming your personal trainer. We've got about four weeks before the junior league resumes. So, for now, I'm your trainer." Dumi gestured toward the exit. "C'mon, let's head to the training ground. See you at home, Lise."
Annalise waved goodbye to Winston and her father.
"Who is that guy? Is he your distant cousin?"
Annalise turned his head toward the voice coming from the other side of the long, silver-painted steel reception desk.
"Oh, hey, Mbali."
"No, he's part of the football club. They're staying at the hotel."
"Are you taking him? Because if you aren't, I'm taking him." Mbali's eyes lingered on Winston. "Mmm, I wonder if he's single. Can you ask him for me?"
"I don't think he has time for a relationship."
"Why? Is he taken?"
"I don't... I mean, right now, he's just focused on football."
"Oh, he's athletic too. I like it."
"..."
Winston glanced over at Dumi, who was already walking ahead of him through the central hallway. Until now, Winston hadn't realized how conflicted he felt. He was thrilled to finally have a mentor, but at the same time, he was nervous about the training and what Dumi's methods would be like.
Dressed in a blue tracksuit and running shoes, Dumi led Winston through the hotel's back entrance toward the training grounds. Outside, they passed a row of beautifully maintained plants as Winston watched his teammates finishing their training session.
A familiar voice suddenly caught his attention. "Mr. Crowe, what a surprise seeing you here. What brings you here?"
Winston turned and saw the striker coach approaching with Maximilian. Dumi shook the coach's hand. "I live around this area, and I've got a kid with me. He needs some mentorship."
The striker coach glanced at Winston, smirked, and shook his head. "Him? Why bother with him? There are other young players with far more potential."
"I don't think so. He has great potential. He's one of those gems in the rough."
"Good luck." The striker coach turned toward Maximilian. "Oh, by the way, this is my player. One of the best strikers in the club."
"Good evening, sir," Maximilian said.
"Good evening, kid," Dumi replied.
The striker coach glanced between Winston and Maximilian before a sinister smile appeared on his face. "How about a challenge? We've got four weeks before our next league match. Why don't Winston and Maximilian have a training match?"
"Interesting."
The head coach's voice came from behind them. Standing a short distance away, he had been observing the entire conversation. "I approve. I'd like to see how these two promising players progress over the next four weeks."
By now, the rest of the teammates had gathered nearby, watching the exchange. Tension hung between Winston and Maximilian. The two strikers were rivals both on and off the field, and neither was willing to give an inch.
The striker coach crossed his arms. "Let's make this interesting. The loser gets benched for three matches, while the winner starts the next three."
Murmurs spread among the players. Everyone knew Winston worked hard, but his technique was still relatively basic. Maximilian, on the other hand, had shown significant improvement under the striker coach's guidance. His form and skills had already surpassed Winston's.
The striker coach looked Winston up and down, subtly amused by his modest physique.
"Deal. This is going to be fun." Dumi said,
Winston remained silent, his eyes fixed on Maximilian. Four weeks, That was all he had. "Since we're done here, we're leaving," Dumi said. He turned toward Winston. "C'mon, kid. Let's go."
Once they reached the training ground, Dumi performed a long stretch and yawned, showing no signs of fatigue from everything they had been through earlier. Winston, however, was still in shock. The events that had just transpired left him feeling uneasy. For a moment, he even wondered if Dumi was crazy.
He just put my starting position on the line.
Maximilian has shown so much growth. Will I even be able to beat him in four weeks? And what kind of skills will Dumi teach me? Maybe I should ask him to focus on my shooting. Maximilian is good inside the box, but he isn't nearly as dangerous when shooting from different angles.
"Kid, warm up," Dumi said, folding his arms. "Start with a jog from one cone to the other. After that, do forward shuffles. Then do them moving both forward and backward."
For the next twenty minutes, Winston went through the warm-ups while Dumi silently observed him. Dumi's relaxed expression gradually disappeared, replaced by a more focused and analytical one.
"Okay. Now do high-knee swings. Start from this cone and finish at that one."
He pointed toward another cone ten meters away. Winston nodded and began the drill. Dumi carefully watched his legs, occasionally gesturing for him to continue with more repetitions. After another twenty minutes, he moved Winston on to forward kicks, using the same ten-meter distance.
Another twenty minutes passed. Dumi didn't give Winston a chance to catch his breath. Of course, there was nothing to catch. Winston wasn't tired or even out of breath.
He's deliberately testing my endurance.
What surprised Winston most was how agile and light his legs felt throughout the exercises. Only a few days ago, they had been stiff and painful. Now, they felt almost weightless.
"That's enough for now," Dumi said. "Move on to bodyweight exercises."
Winston dropped into position. The next exercise involved stepping forward, bending one knee, and twisting his torso while extending both hands. He alternated between his legs as he moved through the ten-meter course. For another twenty minutes, Winston continued the cone drills.
"Ten rounds," Dumi instructed.
Winston nodded. The intensity of the training was gradually increasing. As Winston completed the rounds, Dumi moved around the field, positioning cones in different locations.
"Okay. High knees from the same ten-meter distance. Five laps."
Winston immediately began. He drove his knees upward as quickly as possible, forcing his legs to work through the movement. The exercise increased blood flow while challenging his coordination and leg strength. After five laps, Winston returned to the starting line and waited, his hands resting on his hips.
Dumi pointed to the cones. "Same drill, but this time move sideways. Five more laps."
Before Dumi could finish explaining, Winston was already moving. He shuffled sideways between the cones, maintaining his balance and rhythm. A burning sensation spread throughout his body. It felt amazing. He was sweating heavily, but his energy remained steady.
And this is only the warm-up.
For the first time, Winston felt genuinely happy about having a mentor. The Core system could improve his physical attributes, but Dumi could actually observe him, identify his weaknesses, and tell him what needed to change.
"Okay. Now plyometric steps."
Winston paused briefly as Dumi demonstrated the movement. The drill involved repeatedly hopping from one leg to the other, using each leg to propel the body upward before landing and transitioning to the opposite leg. It was designed to develop explosive power, strength, balance, and speed. Winston began the exercise.
"Good. Now side shuffles."
Winston moved laterally across the cones, keeping his body low and his feet moving quickly. Dumi had him repeat the drill several times, each repetition pushing Winston's legs further.
"That's enough."
Winston stopped and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Now run two laps at seventy percent." Dumi pointed toward the field. "Then two at eighty percent. Finish with full sprints."
Winston's eyes widened slightly. Now we're getting serious. Before starting, Dumi raised a hand. "Take five minutes to rest first."
Winston nodded and sat down on the grass. Looking around, he noticed just how many cones and training mannequins Dumi had scattered across the field.
This guy came prepared.
Winston leaned back, taking a deep breath. He was exhausted from the constant movement, yet strangely, his body still felt full of energy.
If this is only the beginning, I wonder what Dumi has planned for the rest of the day.