The morning after the 7–0 demolition of Carson City Youth Academy, the small Inglewood apartment felt different. Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, brighter than usual, as if the universe itself was acknowledging the shift that had begun. Alex Rivera sat at the kitchen table, still feeling the pleasant ache in his legs and core from ninety minutes of total dominance on the pitch the day before. His body was sore in the best way — the kind of fatigue that came from pushing every limit the system had enhanced.
Emma had slipped out quietly at dawn after one last slow, intimate morning round in his corner of the room. The faint scent of her strawberry shampoo still lingered on his pillow, a private reminder of the life he was deliberately choosing to build alongside the football grind. No one in the family knew. The system remained completely secret, locked inside his head, visible only to him.
Mom was already dressed for her waitress shift, sipping cheap instant coffee. Dad sat hunched over the newspaper, red pen circling job ads out of habit, though his eyes kept drifting to the two white envelopes on the table — the prize money from the last two wins. Mia, still in her pajamas, was scrolling on the old flip phone, dreaming out loud about new soccer cleats and a new backpack for school.
Alex slid the latest envelope across the table — six hundred dollars from the Carson City victory. "This goes straight toward the debt. Combined with Saturday's money, we can pay off a good chunk today. The collector is coming at noon, right?"
Dad stared at the envelope for a long moment, then looked up with wet eyes. "Son… I still can't believe what I saw yesterday. Seven-nil. You scored three, assisted four. You were everywhere on that pitch, playing like you were born for the No. 10 role. Where did that come from?"
Mom reached over and squeezed Alex's hand, tears already forming. "We're so proud of you, mijo. That money… it's not just numbers. It's hope. The collector is coming at noon. This will buy us breathing room — maybe even more than a month."
Mia grinned from ear to ear. "My big brother is a superstar! Can we get new cleats now? And maybe ice cream after school?"
Alex smiled, keeping his voice steady and humble. "We'll get more than cleats soon. Coach Ramirez said they're sorting a real contract for me next week — small stipend to start, but it's steady money and a proper development deal. I'm not stopping. We're going to clear every single debt, and maybe even start that sports shop you always talked about, Dad. One step at a time."
Dad's hands shook slightly as he picked up the envelopes. "If you keep playing like that, Ace… anything is possible. We're proud of you. So damn proud."
The family ate breakfast in a rare moment of genuine hope — takeout pancakes they could actually afford because of the win money. Mom kept wiping her eyes. Dad kept staring at the cash like it was a dream. Mia was already planning what she would buy with the extra money. Alex ate slowly, letting the warmth of the moment settle in his chest. This was the first real victory for the family. The debt was no longer crushing them quite as hard. The contract talk next week would bring more. But as the meal ended and the family started to wind down — Mom heading to her shift, Dad making calls to the debt collector, Mia getting ready for school — Alex slipped away to change into training gear.
He stepped out into the morning sun, the blue system screen glowing silently at the edge of his vision, visible only to him.
[Current Status]
Host: Alex "Ace" Rivera
Level: 4 (800 / 2,000 EXP)
Core Stats:
Pace: 54Shooting: 48Dribbling: 53Passing: 51Physicality: 42Mentality: 62Vision: 58
Skills Unlocked:
God's First Touch (S-Grade)Basic Stamina BoostShadow Dribble (Mid-Grade)
Skill Points Available: 4
Daily Task Reminder:
Complete 4 hours of intensive training + score/create at least 1 goal/assist in the next friendly.
Reward: 400 EXP + Random Mid-Grade Skill Card
Alex mentally allocated two skill points into Vision, pushing it to 62, and one into Passing, pushing it to 54. The last point he saved for later. I need to stay sharp. The next friendly is in six days. I have to keep improving while building everything else — the grind on the pitch and the life I'm choosing off it.
The training ground was quiet when he arrived. Coach Ramirez was already there, setting up cones and small goals. "Rivera! Early again. Good. After yesterday, the whole team is looking at you differently. Let's see if you can back it up over a full week. We have a tough friendly next Saturday. I want you sharper than ever."
The week became a deliberate, intense grind — the kind of training that would separate him from every other fifteen-year-old in Los Angeles.
Monday – Technical Mastery & Skill Testing
Alex started with 600 touches using "God's First Touch." The ball felt alive, sticking to his foot on every reception. Coach had him working in tight spaces: figure-eights through cones at full speed, quick one-twos with Miguel Torres, sudden bursts into the box to finish with both feet. Alex tested "Shadow Dribble" repeatedly — a quick body feint that froze Miguel mid-step, leaving the captain stumbling and laughing in disbelief.
"Man, how do you do that?" Miguel asked, shaking his head. "It looks like your body is lying to me before your feet even move."
Alex shrugged casually. "Just clicked this week. Keep coming at me — I need the practice."
By the end of the four-hour session his shirt was soaked, but he felt stronger. The system dinged internally.
[Training Progress: 4/4 hours]
EXP Gained: +180
Tuesday – Gym & Physical Dominance
Morning weights at the community center gym. Alex pushed heavier than ever — squats, deadlifts, explosive box jumps, core work that left his abs burning. His enhanced physicality made every rep feel controlled, but he still pushed to the absolute limit, sweating through three sets of everything. In the afternoon, Coach ran 1v1 duels. Alex faced Jamal Washington, the strongest defender on the squad.
He dropped his shoulder, used "Shadow Dribble," and left Jamal on the grass twice in a row. Jamal stood up laughing. "You're cheating, Ace. I swear your body moves before your feet do."
Alex kept his face neutral. "Just working on new moves. Come again."
The session ended with endurance sprints — 400-meter repeats with short recovery. Alex finished every one at full speed, the stamina boost from the system keeping him sharp.
[Endurance Training Bonus]
EXP Gained: +220
Wednesday – Tactical Study & Vision Work
Coach showed video of Carson City's next opponents — a physical side that loved long balls and set pieces. Alex studied every clip, using his future knowledge to predict patterns no one else could see. On the pitch he ran repeated attacking sequences: receiving the ball in the No. 10 pocket, quick one-twos, through-balls, and long-range shots. He tested vision by playing with his back to goal, spinning and finding runners in tight spaces.
Miguel Torres was impressed. "Your passes are getting ridiculous, Ace. It's like you see the pitch in slow motion."
Alex just nodded. The system is helping, but I'm still grinding every day.
The system rewarded the session.
[Tactical Training Bonus]
EXP Gained: +250
Thursday – Match Simulation & Full Attack
Full 11v11 practice match against the second team. Alex played as the attacking midfielder again, dictating tempo from the No. 10 role. He dropped deep when needed, pressed high when the opportunity came, and surged forward to create chances. He tested "Shadow Dribble" repeatedly — quick feints that froze defenders mid-step, creating space out of nothing. One moment he was jogging, the next he exploded past two players and played a no-look through-ball that set Tyler up for a goal.
Coach Ramirez blew the whistle and called him over. "Rivera, you're on another level. Keep this up and bigger clubs are going to notice fast."
Alex nodded. Inside, the system was silent, but he felt the growth.
Friday – Recovery & Final Prep
Light session — stretching, tactical walkthroughs, and small-sided games. Alex stayed behind afterward, working on long-range shooting and set-piece delivery for nearly two extra hours. He mentally opened the system shop and browsed Body Enhancement options, saving points for when he needed a bigger boost before the next friendly.
As the sun set, he sat on the grass alone for a long moment, reflecting.
This is the balance I chose. Intense grind during the day — training, tactics, pushing every limit to become the GOAT and surpass Messi and Ronaldo. The nights and private moments — Emma, future women, the full superstar playboy life. No more regret from 2024. I'm taking both worlds.
He stood up, muscles tired but mind clear. Tomorrow was the contract signing meeting.
Saturday Morning – First Contract Signing
The club office was small and simple — a converted storage room at the community center with a desk, a few chairs, and faded posters of old LA Galaxy players on the walls. Coach Ramirez sat behind the desk with the club director, Mr. Hernandez, a middle-aged man in a cheap suit who handled all the youth contracts.
"Alex," Mr. Hernandez said, sliding a simple one-page contract across the desk. "After the last two games, we're offering you a proper development deal. Small stipend — two hundred dollars per week to start — plus travel expenses for away games and a bonus for every win. It's not MLS money yet, but it's a real professional contract for a fifteen-year-old. You'll train with the first team twice a week and play every weekend. Sign here if you're ready."
Alex read the contract carefully. It was basic, but it was real. He signed without hesitation.
Coach Ramirez shook his hand firmly. "Welcome to the professional side of things, kid. You've earned this."
Later That Day – Family Business Start
Back at the apartment, Alex gathered the family around the kitchen table. He placed the signed contract and the latest prize money on the table.
"Dad," he said quietly, "you always talked about opening a small sports shop — selling cleats, jerseys, basic gear. With this contract money and the prize cash, we can start small. Rent a corner shop near the community center. I'll use some of my future earnings to help stock it. We can call it Rivera Sports. It'll be our family business."
Dad's eyes widened. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," Alex replied. "We pay off the rest of the medical debt this week with the winnings. Then we start the shop. I'll keep bringing money home from football. You run the business. Mom can help part-time. Mia can work after school when she's older. This is how we build something real."
Mom hugged him tightly. "You're changing everything, Ace."
Dad nodded slowly, a spark of hope in his eyes. "Rivera Sports… I like the sound of that."
The family spent the rest of the day planning — location scouting, basic inventory list, simple logo ideas. Alex felt the dual life settling into place. The football grind continued tomorrow. The private celebrations with Emma would continue too. The empire was beginning.