Chapter 88 – The Trial Match
The gates were closed.
No parents. No local supporters. No familiar voices calling names from the stands.
Only coaches, analysts, and a single camera mounted high above the pitch—silent, unblinking.
Jota stood in the tunnel, rolling his shoulders, feeling the tension settle into something sharp and controllable. This wasn't a showcase. There would be no applause for clever touches, no forgiveness for mistakes.
This was an evaluation.
Coach Azevedo's voice cut through the air. "Remember—structure first. Play within the system. Let the game come to you."
The players nodded.
Kickoff followed immediately.
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From the first whistle, the tempo was brutal.
The opposing side pressed aggressively, compressing space and forcing rushed decisions. Every pass was challenged. Every first touch scrutinized.
Jota started on the right side of midfield, slightly deeper than usual.
He didn't demand the ball.
Instead, he watched.
