Leo's eyes snapped open before the alarm could ring. 4:55 AM.
For a second, he lay there, blinking at the ceiling, his heartbeat strangely calm. It was still dark and silent outside, His limbs felt sore, but not broken. A good sore left as the evidence from the underground football play he hadn't been involved in the previous night.
He sat up, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and stretched until his shoulders popped. A yawn escaped him. Then he grinned to himself.
'Alright, legend,' he muttered. 'Time to earn that title.'
Then he shuffled to the small sink in the corner of the room, splashed cold water on his face, wiped it with a towel and stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror as he whispered a quick prayer 'please let today be better.'
He pulled on his tracksuit and stepped outside.
The cold air bit his face, mist clung to the streets, it was kind of morning only madmen or maniacs would willingly meet.
He took one step forward, then another and stopped. Scratched his head and Looked down.
'Shoes,' he whispered.
He'd forgotten his sneakers.
For a second, Leo stared at his socked feet on the wet pavement, then turned around and bolted back inside.
'Legend, huh? Not if I die jogging barefoot on Day 1,' he muttered, grabbing the worn-out sneakers with laces that always came undone halfway through.
Fully geared now, Leo jogged out the apartment, a slow rhythm building in his legs. His breath came out in bursts. Every few steps, his shoe scraped the sidewalk, the soles barely hanging on but he didn't stop.
A gentle chime sounded in his head.
Ding!
[Pace: Average]
[Heart Rate: High]
[Tip: Maintain steady breathing.]
His grin returned. 'You again, huh?'
He took a deep breath, Inhaled and took two steps. Then exhaled before taking another two steps.
This was it, day one of the grind. But twenty minutes in, the fire started.
His thighs felt like concrete. Calves screamed. Each step punched his lungs like a sledgehammer. The mist wasn't cold anymore. It was heavy, like dragging a full backpack underwater.
He stumbled, nearly stopping for a split second, he wanted to. His body begged for it.
Then it hit him. Coach Raynolds' voice echoed in his head like a hammer striking glass.
"You're not consistent. Not reliable."
The bitter part of the academy, the locker room where no one stood for him and the murmurs after he was kicked out hit him hard.
Leo clenched his fists, that flashback stabbed through him, he wanted to scream. Then staggered a step , a tiny part of him wanted to stop right there.
But then the system,
[Mission Progress: 30% Completed. Keep going.]
Leo's breath hitched. The system wasn't yelling. It was… encouraging. He pushed forward, pain and doubt clawing at him with every stride.
An hour later, he collapsed onto a rusted bench, his chest heaving as sweat dripped off his chin.
Somewhere, a bird chirped as the mist started to lift.
…
Later that morning, Leo found himself at Kitale Park.Here he was going to have a solo training on Ball Control and Shooting.
He balanced a football on his knee, juggling it in slow, focused beats from right foot to left foot, thigh, head and let it drop before starting again.
His mind drifted to old YouTube clips he had watched. Messi juggling oranges, paper balls and a tin can at once.
He smiled faintly, that used to be him too. The kid who kicked mangoes till their skins split.
"Leo?"
A familiar voice cut through the silence. Leo caught the ball mid-drop and turned.
Ray Watson stood a few feet away, hands in his jacket pockets, with his eyebrow raised. Clean gear, slick boots, confident aura.
"Didn't think I'd see you again, man," Ray said, half-grinning. "You ghosted the game after Silvercrest folded on you."
Leo rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I... took a detour."
Ray laughed. "Well, good to see you man. I got a contract trial coming up. South District Club, not bad, huh?"
"Nice," Leo said, and he meant it, even if something in his chest twisted tight.
Ray smirked. "We run pickup Fridays. Same crew. You in?"
Leo hesitated. His body still throbbed from the morning run but his voice said, "I'm in."
Ray winked. "Don't die on the pitch while training, bro."
As Ray jogged off, Leo let out a long breath.
He stayed behind, he still had work to do.He Picked up the ball again. This time, he focused on shooting.
'Corner to corner, diagonals. Sprint, shoot, Jog, shoot then reset.'
He stopped for a second, his eyes closed remembering something.
'That goal yesterday… The one that felt like magic.'
He wanted to try it making sure it was not just a luck.
His body adjusted, angled his foot, his hips turned then struck the ball. It flew cutting through the air in a perfect arc.
Ping!
The ball hit the goalpost.
Leo stared. 'No way…'
He took a deep breath then did it again. This time the shot was cleaner.
Boom!
The ball curled, slapped into the goal with a perfect spin.
Leo froze. 'No way… I did it again?'
He had mastered his first skill activated by the system. {Copy Shot (Cristiano Ronaldo) }
'You're not just copying,' he whispered. 'You're learning.'
'Day 1… done,' he whispered to himself again his chest rising and falling.
…
When Leo finally got home, it was at 10: 20 , his shirt clung to his back like it had been glued there. His hair stuck up in all the wrong places. He looked like someone who'd lost a fight with a washing machine.
The house was quiet. His mom wasn't home yet, probably pulling another day shift at the clinic.
He dropped his bag by the door, kicked off his sneakers, and flopped onto the couch his bones had turned into muscles he had never even met before and were screaming for help.
The footsteps on the corridor reminded him that his mother will be home anytime, guilt tugged at his chest. He forced himself upright, groaning like a man twice his age and rolled his shoulders back into duty mode.
One by one, he took his sneakers and picked up his bag from where it had crash-landed and headed to his room, he slid his sneakers neatly and placed his bag on the hook by the door.
Back to the living- room, he smoothed out the couch cushion he had squashed. The place looked untouched, just how his mother liked it.
He wanted to refresh up before getting something to eat, but then came the knock.
It was the kind of soft knock old people gave, polite, patient, and annoyingly regular.
He groaned, walked towards the door and opened it.
There stood Mr. Wen, the old guy from across their room. Bald, wiry, always wearing the same faded tracksuit like it was some ancient monk robe.
In his hands he had a covered bowl. "Smells like death in there," Mr. Wen said, peeking past Leo's shoulder. "You cook?"
"Hard no," Leo replied, rubbing his stomach. "I was gonna improvise with bread and... sadness."
Mr. Wen laughed, handing him the bowl. "Stir-fried rice. Made too much."
Leo blinked. "Wait, seriously?"
Mr. Wen punched him on the chest, "Young lion, your face is screaming like 'I've seen the gates of hell.' If you train like that again, you'll need an ambulance, not a football."
Leo chuckled, but a part of him froze when he heard that word…"lion." His father used to call him that. Back when things were good. Before he disappeared into wherever legends go to vanish.
He took the bowl with a soft "Thanks."
Mr. Wen gave a warm smile,his eyes crinkling... but something flickered behind them. Something distant, like the man knew more than he let on.
Leo didn't notice. He was too busy inhaling steam from the food.
The scent snapped him back to life, but before he could dig in, he remembered the sweat clinging to his skin. With a reluctant sigh, he placed the bowel on the table and pushed himself to his room and headed to the bathroom. A splash of cold water to the face, a quick rinse of his arms, and a swipe of the towel brought him halfway back to human.
…
Later, after devouring every last grain of rice, he checked his phone which he had ignore it's buzz.
One message was from Jace he had sent him exactly seventy bucks, from yesterday's win. Dirty money, maybe, but that didn't mean that Leo was a dumb, a dream costs money too.
At around 1: 00 he grabbed his backpack and headed to the grocery store, He needed to get some food stuff for himself and his mother.
The store felt weirdly peaceful. Cold air, gentle music, the quiet rustle of shelves being stocked.
He started budgeting, did the mental math , he bought food stuff worth $24
As he put the last can into his basket, the store lady Ms. Lily, round and sharp-tongued, braised an eyebrow.
"Well, well," she said. "If it ain't little Leo Foster."
Leo gave a tight smile. "Hi Ms. Lily."
"You're looking more like your father every day."
That hit like a punch in the gut. Leo tried to smile again but failed.
Ms. Lily noticed and changed the topic "Tell your mama I said hi."
He nodded, quietly bagging the rest.
…
On the way home, Jace found him.
Literally popped out of an alley, hoodie half-on, that same mischievous grin like he'd just stolen time itself.
"Bro!" Jace slapped him on the back. "You look like a man who just fought a dragon."
Leo smirked. "Got some cash left. I need cones and a training vest. Where's the cheap store?"
"You're lucky you got me, man," Jace said, dragging him along.
They ended up in one of those second-hand stalls off E Street. Rusty shelves, old shoes, dusty footballs, but to Leo it was paradise. The tools of his resurrection.
He Cones $5
He purchased colored training cones at $5 and a vest $3.
Left with $38, he planned to give his mom $18 when he got home and Keep $20 in his secret jar…his "dream stash."
…
Back at home when his mom finally walked in, tired and dragging her feet, Leo gave him a curious look as he handed her the $18.
"Where did you get this?" she asked, holding up the cash.
"Investment," Leo said.
"In what?"
He grinned. "You'll see."
She rolled her eyes. "What is it this time? A pyramid scheme? Or Cryptocurrency?"
"Close," Leo said, already heading to his room.
…
That night, just before crashing, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling when the system prompt and holographic screen flared to life.
Ding!
[Daily Log: Financial Management Detected.]
Efficiency: 87%]
[Trait Detected: Responsible Planner – +1 Passive EXP for Budgeting Missions]
[Reward: 100 Coins + 1 Upgrade Point]
Leo blinked.
"Wait… you track my life stuff too?"…
He sat up, smirking. "Alright then. Since you're watching everything now I will have to think of a good name for you…"
He paused, fingers hovering over the mental keyboard.
"From now on, you're Uncle Max."