The training sessions, which combined agility and speed drills, continued for roughly two hours each day. Winston had developed a habit of repeating a drill whenever he wasn't satisfied with his performance. Dumi never reprimanded him for it. He understood the pressure Winston was putting on himself.
With the upcoming match weighing heavily on his mind, Winston performed every drill with greater intensity and precision. He was determined to seize this opportunity and accelerate his development. The training throughout the week had already begun refining his form, agility, speed, and body control.
After completing the scheduled drills and taking a few short breaks, Winston asked Dumi to add more exercises. They still had several hours left in their training schedule, so Dumi agreed.
Until then, most of the sessions had focused on stamina, agility, speed, and body control. Now Dumi introduced Winston to a series of ball-control exercises. For the first drill, Dumi positioned six cones in a straight line.
"Use one foot only," Dumi instructed. "Zigzag through the cones and come back. Four repetitions."
Winston nodded and began. He carefully maneuvered the ball between the cones using only one foot, changing direction with each touch. After completing four repetitions, Dumi moved on to the next exercise.
"Outside cuts." The drill was similar to the previous one, except Winston had to use the outside of his foot to guide the ball around each cone. After several repetitions and a short break, Dumi changed the exercise again. "Inside cuts."
As the name suggested, Winston performed the same movement while using the inside of his foot to control the ball. Finally, Dumi introduced the sole-taps drill. Winston placed the sole of one foot on top of the ball, quickly switched to the other, and repeated the motion. His feet moved faster with every repetition.
Dumi watched closely, occasionally correcting Winston's posture or the position of his feet. The remainder of the day was consumed by drills. Dumi deliberately kept the breaks short because he wanted Winston to maintain his concentration and adapt to the intensity of the sessions.
Eventually, Dumi raised a hand. "That's enough for today. Go get some rest. We'll continue tomorrow." He began gathering the training equipment. Winston immediately moved to help. "I'll clean up with you."
Dumi shook his head. "No. Go take a shower. You've done enough for today." Winston nodded and headed toward the changing room.
Once inside the shower, Winston summoned the Core system. It had been a while since he had properly checked his stats. The system had continued updating him throughout his training, but he had deliberately avoided opening the interface too often. He didn't want anything distracting him. Now, with the warm water flowing over his body, he finally had a chance to see how much progress the training had produced.
Let's see how much I've improved.
Winston relaxed beneath the shower, allowing the fluctuating temperature of the water to wash away the tension in his muscles. His mind gradually drifted away from the day's training. Then something caught his attention. A letter had fallen from his sports bag. Winston frowned and reached down to pick it up. The crest on the envelope immediately reminded him of Diana. His expression slowly changed.
Dad... Diana's words suddenly returned to him. Your father is running out of time. Winston stared at the letter for several seconds. What did she mean by that? A chill ran through him. Is Dad sick?
The last time Winston had spoken to his father had been after his first victory. Since then, they hadn't really had a proper conversation. His mother had mentioned that his father had been spending more hours at work, but she had never explained why. Winston hadn't thought much of it at the time. Now, Diana's words made him question everything.
Why would she say that? He tightened his grip around the letter. For the first time since hearing those words, the upcoming match against Maximilian wasn't the only thing occupying his mind. I need to find out what's happening with Dad.
Ding!
[Nethen Essence: 64%]
[Voltage Core: 64%]
[Pace]
Acceleration: 70
Sprint Speed: 70
[Physical]
Physical: 70
Jumping: 70
Stamina: 70
Strength: 70
Aggression: 70
What's going on? Why are my stats stuck at seventy? Does this mean I've reached the maximum? Maybe the system is glitching. But if it were a glitch, wouldn't it affect all my skills? Could it have something to do with those two skills that keep popping up? Wrapping a towel around his waist, Winston sat down on the long wooden bench. Does this mean my pace and physical strength are undergoing some kind of restoration? If so, that means I'll eventually become even fitter and faster than before.
A wide smile spread across his face. He quickly finished dressing and headed for the exit. As he stepped through the doorway, he spotted Annalise outside on the training ground, carrying a brown picnic basket. When she turned around and noticed him, she smiled softly. "I brought lunch. I figured you haven't eaten all day."
She adjusted the basket in her arms. "If you're looking for my father, he already left. Something about an emergency call."
"Oh."
"Don't worry. He gets calls like that all the time." She smiled. "Come on. Let's find somewhere to eat."
They walked along the pathway bordering the training ground. Winston glanced at the basket in Annalise's hands before looking around at the scenery.
"You know, I love weather like this," Annalise said. "Warm, but not too warm. Windy, but not too windy. It makes me want to sit under a tree and lose myself in a book."
Winston hadn't paid much attention to the weather. He had been so focused on training that he barely noticed anything beyond the pitch. Rain or sunshine, it made little difference to him. Ever since receiving the Core system, he had trained through all kinds of weather.
But he didn't want to come across as someone who had no life outside football. His sister's ridiculous comments flashed through his mind. "Yeah, it is nice," he replied. "What kind of books do you like?"
"Science fiction, fantasy, and romance." Annalise's voice became more energetic. "My favorite author is Aether Luther. Her new book is a mix of fantasy and romance. Apparently, people are calling the genre 'romantasy.'"
She looked at him curiously. "What about you?" She suddenly grinned. "No, wait. Let me guess. A football training manual."
Winston laughed. "Hehe. Joke's on you. I'd actually read one."
Annalise raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. But if it doesn't have anything about basic training or football legends, I probably wouldn't finish it."
She laughed. "Man and sport. You really do love football." She pointed ahead. "Oh, we're here. Let's sit."
They reached an empty garden table beneath a large umbrella. Annalise placed the basket on the table before taking a seat. "Yeah," Winston said, sitting across from her. "Football was the first thing I was introduced to. My father used to play."
"I see. I always wondered why you're constantly training. At first, I thought you were just hiding from all the noise surrounding your upcoming match."
Winston glanced toward the upper hallway as two of his teammates walked past. "It's both, actually. I really do love football. I've been playing for so long that it's practically second nature." He smiled faintly. "When I was younger, my friends and I would play all day. From morning until night."
"If you aren't playing or practicing, what do you do?" Annalise asked.
"I used to watch local matches around my neighborhood."
"What about your friends?"
Winston took a bite of his tuna sandwich before answering. "After we graduated from high school, we went our separate ways. They continued their studies, while I pursued a career in football. We haven't really gotten together since."
Annalise smiled. "It's good that you're pursuing your dream."
Winston took a sip of orange juice before looking at her. "What about you? Considering who your father is, shouldn't you be at university instead of working as a receptionist?" He quickly realized how the question sounded. "Not that there's anything wrong with being a receptionist."
Annalise chuckled as she poured herself some orange juice. "You know, I get that a lot. People expect me to be some snobby rich kid because my father is a football legend." She shrugged. "That's just not me. I enjoy meeting new people. And yes, I'm still studying at university. I'm in my second year."
Winston's expression fell. "Sorry. That was a rude assumption."
Annalise waved her hand dismissively. "No problem. Like I said, I hear it all the time." She smiled. "Honestly, I take it as a compliment. People usually feel bad once they realize I'm not what they assumed."
"That's fair." Winston nodded. "So, what are you studying?"
Annalise gave him a teasing look. "Wait. You're not going to ask why I work at this hotel?"
Winston nearly choked on his sandwich. He quickly swallowed and took another gulp of juice. "I thought you didn't want to talk about it."
Annalise laughed. "Well, I don't mind. You told me something meaningful about yourself, so I don't mind sharing something about me."
Winston hadn't considered his story about his childhood friends particularly meaningful. To him, it was simply another part of growing up. It was rare for childhood friendships to survive into adulthood.
"So why do you work here as a receptionist?" he asked.
Annalise leaned forward slightly, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. "It's a secret." She burst out laughing when she saw the puzzled expression on Winston's face.