The locker room of Virtus Lombardia FC smelled of sweat, polish, and professionalism.
Every detail—the neatly folded kits, the glint of the club's logo above the benches, the muted hum of the air conditioning—spoke of a level far beyond what Jaeven had known in the youth division.
He stood there, clutching his new jersey—Number 11—the fabric still crisp and untouched.
> Virtus Lombardia FC – Serie D (4th Division)
Call-up: Jaeven Moretti Han (LW/SS)
It was surreal.
A few weeks ago, he was an unknown in the youth squad. Now, after a single viral match, he stood among professionals—men who'd played in front of thousands, who carried the exhaustion and pride of real footballers.
"Hey, rookie."
A voice cut through the low chatter.
Jaeven turned to see a tall defender with short, dark curls and a scar above his right eyebrow. His expression was unreadable—half amusement, half warning.
"You the kid Rossi brought in?" the defender asked.
Jaeven nodded. "Yeah. Jaeven Han."
The man smirked. "Welcome to the fire, Han. Don't get burned."
A few others chuckled quietly from their benches. Jaeven didn't answer—he simply smiled faintly and took his seat.
It wasn't malice, he realized. Just hierarchy. The unwritten rule of every locker room: earn your place.
He tied his boots, each knot deliberate, his pulse hammering in his chest.
He could already hear faint cheers from outside—fans gathering to watch the open training session.
Today was his real test.
---
⚽ Training Ground – Morning Session
The sun was sharp above the green turf, painting everything in vivid color.
Players jogged in formation, passing drills began, and the echo of balls striking boots filled the air.
Jaeven lined up with the substitutes—his body tense but focused.
The contrast between youth-level tempo and this… was enormous. Even their warm-up passes looked cleaner, faster, sharper.
Then came the whistle.
Out of the tunnel walked Leonardo Rossi—a tall man with slicked-back chestnut hair, calm eyes that carried both warmth and command.
He wore a simple black training jacket with LR stitched in white over the chest.
The players instantly fell silent.
"Good morning," Rossi said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried authority. "We have a newcomer today. You all saw the video. Now I want to see the boy myself."
He turned to Jaeven, his gaze piercing but not unkind.
"Step forward."
Jaeven obeyed, every eye on him.
His heart pounded, but he kept his posture straight.
"Jaeven Moretti Han, sixteen years old," Rossi said, glancing at the clipboard. "Left winger, second striker. From the Virtus Lombardia Youth team."
He lowered the clipboard and looked at the boy.
"I don't believe in miracles," Rossi said evenly. "But I do believe in effort. You impressed me once—let's see if you can do it again."
Jaeven nodded firmly. "Yes, coach."
"Good. Let's start."
---
⚙️ System Notification
> [System Notice: Training Session Initiated]
Environment: Virtus Lombardia First Team
Difficulty Modifier: +35%
Adaptive Pressure System Activated.
> [Tip]: "Observe the tempo before you match it. Composure is power."
Jaeven exhaled slowly, letting the System's words sink in.
He joined the team in a positional rondo drill—one-touch passing in tight spaces. The ball zipped around like a bullet, never resting longer than a heartbeat.
When the ball came to him, instinct took over.
His first touch—clean.
His second—sharp pass back to midfield.
But the next sequence came faster. He misread a feint, the ball slipped past, and a few players groaned.
"Keep up, kid!" someone barked.
He clenched his jaw, focusing harder.
> [System Notice: Minor Error Detected – Decision Delay +0.2s]
[Tip]: "Don't chase the ball. Let it enter your rhythm."
---
⚡ 7v7 Scrimmage
After an hour of drills, Rossi blew his whistle again.
"Alright," he said. "We'll finish with a short scrimmage. Two-touch limit. No excuses."
He pointed across the pitch.
"Han, left wing. Team B."
The match began fast.
The difference was immediate—the intensity, the spacing, the raw physicality. Jaeven could barely breathe during the first few minutes. Every player around him moved like they'd memorized the field. He was late to press, late to react, late to recover.
He lost possession twice. Once, a center-back shouldered him off like he was made of paper.
But each mistake was data—each stumble, a lesson.
His Spectral Awareness flared subtly, ghostlike outlines of player movements forming in his peripheral vision.
He began predicting patterns, adjusting.
When the next ball came, he spun lightly, shielding it with his body before laying it off perfectly.
> [System Notice: Spectral Awareness Activation Detected]
Processing… Spatial Recognition +2% (Temporary)
The shift was tiny, but real.
He began syncing with the tempo.
A minute later, a through pass came slicing down the left. He darted after it, cut inside on his right—then snapped it low toward the far post.
The goalkeeper barely tipped it wide.
Gasps rippled across the pitch.
"Not bad, rookie," a midfielder muttered.
Coach Rossi's arms were crossed, eyes steady, expression unreadable.
---
⚽ Later in Training
Rossi halted the scrimmage midway. "Freeze!"
He walked onto the pitch, pointing toward Jaeven.
"Kid," he said. "You're hesitating before your final move. Football isn't an exam—don't overthink. Trust your feet."
Jaeven nodded quickly, sweat dripping from his chin.
Rossi's eyes softened slightly. "You have something rare—balance, timing. But talent without conviction is just potential. Prove it."
The whistle blew again.
This time, Jaeven attacked with freedom.
He didn't second-guess—he reacted.
Cut left, burst forward, body feint, inside flick—pass.
He could feel the difference now, the rhythm syncing with his heartbeat.
> [System Notice: Adaptation Threshold Reached]
Technical Synergy +3% (Temporary)
Ball Control Experience +5%
By the time Rossi ended training, Jaeven was drenched, lungs burning, but grinning like a madman.
He'd survived.
No—he'd belonged.
---
🏁 Post-Training Locker Room
The locker room buzzed with chatter again, but this time the tone was different.
A few players nodded at him. The defender with the scar even clapped his shoulder lightly as he walked past. "Not bad for a first day, kid."
Jaeven smiled faintly, collapsing onto the bench.
> [System Notice: Training Evaluation Complete]
Performance Grade: C– (Below Average)
Reward: Mental Training Room Unlocked.
He froze.
"Mental… training room?"
> [Tip]: "Physical limits end when the mind begins. Enter to refine technique and muscle memory without fatigue."
Activation Condition: Sleep State or Manual Access.
Jaeven's eyes widened.
That night, he thought, would be the real beginning.
---
🌙 Evening
The sun dipped behind the Lombardian skyline, painting the training center in gold and shadow.
Jaeven sat on the edge of his small dorm bed, staring at his boots, still speckled with dried grass.
He'd faced the pros and survived.
He'd seen the gap—felt the gulf between dream and reality.
But now, he had something they didn't. Something otherworldly.
The Divine Echelon Framework pulsed faintly in his mind.
> [System Notice: Would you like to enter the Mental Training Room?]
Jaeven lay back, eyes half-closed.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Show me what I can become."
---
⚙️ [Status Screen]
Name: Jaeven Moretti Han
Age: 16
Team: Virtus Lombardia FC
Position: LW / SS
Height: 177 cm
Dominant Foot: Both
Traits:
(A) Double Foot
(S) Spectral Awareness
(S) Ball Control
(Hidden) ???
Stats:
Attribute Score Grade Notes
Pace 42 D– Decent acceleration, low stamina
Dribbling 44 D Good control, needs consistency
Shooting 39 E+ Basic power, poor composure
Passing 43 D– Vision developing
Physical 37 E+ Light frame, low endurance
Technique 46 D+ Promising fundamentals
Mentality 60 B Strong focus and willpower
Awareness 55 C+ Reads play faster than peers
Charm 41 D Decent appearance, average charisma
Overall Rating: E+ → D–
Potential: EX (Hidden)
---
Jaeven's vision dimmed as the room around him dissolved into streaks of light.
The faint hum of reality faded—replaced by the scent of grass and echoing stadium noise.
He stood once more on an endless green pitch, the moon above casting silver light.
A voice—metallic yet serene—spoke within the void.
> [Welcome to the Mental Training Room.]
[Time Ratio: 1 Hour (Reality) = 10 Hours (Mind Space).]
Jaeven's lips curved into a slow, burning grin.
"This time," he murmured, gripping the ball that appeared before him, "I'll catch up to the world."
---
End of Chapter 7