Below is **Chapter 3** of *The Reborn Striker: Rise to Football Legend*, continuing Ethan Cole's journey after his debut goal for Willow Creek FC against Stonefield United. This chapter focuses on Etha
Ethan Cole woke to the buzz of his Nokia phone, the screen glowing with a text from Mia Hart: *Saw your goal on Insta. You're kinda famous now. 😉 Meet me at the park tonight?* His pulse quickened, not just from the message but from the Football System's interface blinking in his mind:
**Football System: S-Class Striker Template (Thierry Henry, 2003 Arsenal Peak)**
- Speed: 92/100 (Highbury Sprint Unlocked)
- Finishing: 83/100
- Dribbling: 83/100
- Milestones: Locked (Arsenal's Elegance [35%], Va-Va-Voom Finishing [50%])
- Assimilation Progress: 35%
- Task: Impress at Leicester City trial (July 2011).
- Reward: Unlock 'Arsenal's Elegance' milestone (Dribbling +5).
- Penalty for Failure: -15% all attributes for one month.
Ethan grinned, tossing the phone onto his bed. His debut goal against Stonefield United had been a statement, but the Leicester City trial was his ticket to the big leagues. The system's warning loomed large—failing the trial would cripple his stats, and he couldn't afford that with Jake Turner breathing down his neck. Jake, that smug bastard, had scored in the same match, and rumors were swirling he'd also caught a scout's eye. Ethan wasn't just competing against himself; he was up against his oldest rival.
He slipped on his trainers and headed downstairs. His mum was at the stove, frying eggs, while his dad flicked through the sports section of the paper. "Heard you scored, Ethan," Tom said, not looking up. "Don't let it go to your head."
"Too late for that," Ethan quipped, grabbing an apple. In his first life, his dad's skepticism had crushed him. Now, it was just a nudge to prove him wrong. "I've got a trial with Leicester City next month. You'll see."
His mum turned, her face lighting up. "Leicester? Oh, Ethan, that's huge! Just don't overdo it, alright?"
Ethan nodded, but his mind was already on the pitch. The system had assigned a new drill to prepare for the trial:
**Explosive Sprints Drill: Complete 200 sprints (50 meters each) with 90% intensity. Reward: Highbury Sprint Progress +10%.**
He bolted out the door, the morning air sharp against his skin. Willow Creek Park was quiet, the pitch still dewy from last night's rain. Ethan set up cones, his body humming with the Henry template's power. Each sprint felt like flying, the system tracking his progress:
**Sprint 50/200 Complete. Speed Progress +2%. Assimilation Progress: 37%.**
By noon, his legs burned, but he kept going, driven by the system's relentless feedback. A missed sprint—too slow, too sloppy—triggered a warning:
**Penalty Applied: -3% Stamina (Incomplete Effort).**
Ethan gritted his teeth. "Not today," he muttered, pushing through the final sprints. The system rewarded his grit:
**Drill Complete. Highbury Sprint Progress: 70%. Speed: 93/100.**
He collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving, sweat dripping. The system was a slave driver, but it was working. He could feel the Henry template molding him—sharper, faster, deadlier. But the trial was in three weeks, and 37% assimilation wasn't enough. He needed to unlock Arsenal's Elegance, the milestone that would make his dribbling untouchable. That meant more drills, more pain, and no distractions.
Except for Mia Hart.
---
Evening fell, and Ethan found himself back at the park, this time near the old oak tree by the swings where Mia had asked to meet. The air was warm, tinged with the scent of cut grass and her perfume as she approached, her pink hair glowing under the streetlights. Mia was nineteen, a local Instagram star with a few thousand followers, always snapping photos for her "aesthetic" feed. She wore a cropped jacket and jeans that hugged her curves, her camera slung around her neck.
"Hey, superstar," she said, her smile teasing. "That goal's got everyone talking. You're, like, Willow Creek's new hero."
Ethan smirked, leaning against the tree. The Henry template gave him confidence he'd never had in his first life. "Hero's a bit much. Just doing my thing."
Mia stepped closer, her eyes glinting. "Your thing's pretty impressive. Got any plans to celebrate?"
The system pinged, as if warning him to stay focused, but Ethan ignored it. Mia was a distraction, sure, but a fun one. "Depends," he said, voice low. "What's on offer?"
She laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Bold, huh? Come on, walk with me."
They wandered through the park, the conversation easy—her joking about his "fancy footwork," him teasing her about her endless selfies. At a secluded bench near the pond, Mia stopped, her gaze lingering. "You're different, Ethan. Last year, you were this shy kid. Now you're… I don't know, electric."
Ethan's heart raced, the Henry template amplifying his charm. "Maybe I just needed the right moment to shine," he said, stepping closer. Mia didn't pull away. Her lips parted, and before he could overthink it, she leaned in, kissing him.
The kiss was fire—soft at first, then hungry, her hands sliding up his chest. Ethan's mind spun, the system's warnings drowned out by the rush. They stumbled against the bench, her fingers tangling in his hair as they made out, the world fading to just them. Her perfume, her warmth, the thrill of it—it was everything his first life had lacked.
After a few minutes, Mia pulled back, breathless, her lipstick smudged. "You're trouble, Ethan Cole," she whispered, grinning. "Call me tomorrow, okay?"
Ethan nodded, his head still buzzing. "Yeah. Tomorrow."
As she walked away, the system's voice cut through like a cold shower:
**Warning: Distraction Detected. Assimilation Progress Stalled. Penalty Risk: -5% Focus for Next Training Session.**
Ethan groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Worth it," he muttered, but the system's nag lingered. Mia was a spark, but the Leicester trial was his future. He couldn't let a kiss—or a hundred—derail him.
---
The next morning, Ethan was back at the pitch, determined to make up for lost time. The system had assigned a new drill for the Arsenal's Elegance milestone:
**Dribbling Mastery Drill: Complete 300 ball touches through cones with 85% accuracy. Reward: Dribbling +3.**
He set up the cones, weaving through them with the ball, the Henry template guiding his feet. But the system's penalty from last night's distraction hit hard—his touches were sloppy, the ball slipping away twice.
**Penalty Applied: -5% Dribbling Control (Reduced Focus).**
"Come on!" Ethan shouted, kicking the ball into the grass. Jake Turner's face flashed in his mind—smirking, scoring, stealing the spotlight. Rumor had it Jake was trialing with Leicester too, thanks to his Stonefield goal. Ethan couldn't let him win.
He reset, focusing on the system's feedback. Each touch grew smoother, the template's instincts kicking in. By the 200th touch, he was gliding through the cones like Henry in his prime, the ball glued to his foot.
**Drill Progress: 70%. Dribbling: 84/100. Arsenal's Elegance Progress: 45%.**
At practice that afternoon, Coach Hargreaves noticed the change. "Cole, you're moving like a bloody gazelle out there," he grunted, tossing him a water bottle. "Keep it up for Leicester. They don't mess around."
Ethan nodded, but his eyes caught Jake Turner across the field, training with Stonefield's squad. Jake juggled a ball, his movements effortless, and shot Ethan a glare. "See you at the trial, Cole," he called. "Hope you don't choke again."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Keep dreaming, Turner."
That night, Ethan's phone buzzed with another text from Mia: *You free tomorrow? Got a spot for you at my next shoot. 📸* He hesitated, the system's warning flashing in his mind. A date with Mia sounded tempting—too tempting—but the trial was two weeks away, and he needed every edge.
He typed back: *Busy training. Rain check?* Her reply was a pouty emoji, but Ethan felt a pang of pride. He was choosing the grind over the girl, at least for now. The system rewarded him:
**Focus Restored. Assimilation Progress: 40%. New Task: Complete Dribbling Mastery Drill by next practice. Reward: Arsenal's Elegance Progress +15%.**
Ethan lay in bed, staring at his Ronaldo poster. The trial was his shot at the Championship, maybe even the Premier League. He could see it—crowds chanting his name, headlines calling him a prodigy, money pouring in to build an empire. And yeah, maybe a date with someone like Taylor Swift or Shakira down the line. But first, he had to outshine Jake, impress Leicester, and make the system proud.
He closed his eyes, the system's interface glowing faintly:
**Leicester City Trial: 14 days remaining. Prepare, or pay the price.**