The locker room of the Cidade do Galo was a palace of polished wood and expensive leather, but to Thiago, it felt like a pressure cooker. As he sat on the edge of a bench, pulling on his training socks, the silence around him was heavy.
The squad was a mix today—a "collection" game. On one side, grizzled first-team regulars like the legendary Hulk, who looked like he was carved out of granite, and the creative maestro Gustavo Scarpa. On the other, the hungry Reserve players who viewed Thiago not as a teammate, but as a threat to their own survival.
"So, you're the YouTube boy," a voice boomed. Thiago looked up to see Lyanco, the imposing center-back. He was towering over him, a smirk playing on his lips. "I saw the clip. Forty million euros for a guy who's never felt a professional stud in his ankle. Hope you brought some extra shin guards, Architect."
"I brought my brain, Lyanco," Thiago replied calmly, standing up. "Usually, that's enough."
A few players chuckled, but the tension didn't break. Hulk just glanced over, his expression unreadable, before going back to lacing his boots. In their world, talk was cheap—and Thiago had spent his whole life talking.
As they walked onto the training pitch, the midday sun beating down, Thiago's vision flickered. The System was no longer just monitoring his heart rate; it was scanning the field.
[ NEW MISSION: THE MISSING LINK ]
[ OBJECTIVE: Overwhelm the skepticism. Achieve a 90%+ pass completion rate and orchestrate a goal. ]
[ REWARD: 'Locker Room Respect' (+20) | Unlock 'Synergy Map' for First Team Stars. ]
"Santos!" Commander Rocha shouted, walking toward him with a clipboard. "You've had a long week of medicals and PR nonsense. Go back to the hotel. Rest. You haven't had a proper team session yet."
"I'm fine, Coach," Thiago said, his voice steady. "The medical said I'm a glass cannon, right? Well, you can't test a cannon unless you fire it. I need to know how these guys move, and they need to know I'm not just a video."
Rocha looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. "Fine. You're on the 'Bibs' team—the Reserves. You're playing behind Cadu. Don't get killed."
The match started with a blistering pace. The First Team (the 'Whites') moved the ball with a terrifying, one-touch fluidity. Within five minutes, they had the Reserves pinned back.
Thiago felt the skepticism immediately. When the Reserves won the ball, they bypassed him. They didn't trust the 16-year-old with the ball. They played long, hopeful balls to Cadu that Lyanco intercepted with ease.
[ ANALYSIS MODE: ACTIVE ]
[ PATTERN RECOGNITION: The 'Whites' are pressing the wings. The center is open but the transition is too slow. ]
Thiago stopped running into the box. He dropped deep, almost between his own center-backs. "Give me the ball!" he barked at the goalkeeper, Gabriel Delfim.
Delfim hesitated, then rolled it to him. Immediately, Alexsander—the first team's midfield engine—lunged in. Thiago didn't panic. He performed a crisp Cruyff Turn, dragging the ball behind his heel and leaving Alexsander clutching at the air.
The sideline went quiet. Thiago didn't run; he looked up. He saw the "Whites" defense shifting to the left. He saw the tiny, three-yard gap between the midfield and the defense.
He unleashed a pass—a "laser" that skimmed the grass, cutting through three lines of pressure to find Igor Gomes in stride. It was the kind of pass the Reserves hadn't seen all morning.
"Movement!" Thiago shouted, pointing.
Suddenly, the game changed. The Reserves realized that if they gave him the ball, they didn't have to chase it. Thiago became the pivot. He was the link. When Hulk tried to bulldoze through the middle, Thiago didn't tackle him—he waited for the moment Hulk leaned, then poked the ball away with the surgical precision of a man who had watched ten thousand hours of defensive tape.
In the 20th minute, it happened. Thiago received the ball under pressure from Lyanco. Instead of turning, he played a first-time "flick" over his own shoulder—a piece of pure, unadulterated Ronaldinho flair. The ball landed perfectly for Cadu, who was through on goal.
GOAL.
The Reserves erupted. Cadu ran over, high-fiving Thiago with a look of genuine shock.
The whistle blew for a water break. The skeptical glares had softened into something else: curiosity.
"Not bad, kid," Hulk said, walking past and slapping Thiago on the back with a hand the size of a dinner plate. "But that flick? Do it against me next time, and I'll turn you into a pancake."
"I'll look forward to it, Captain," Thiago replied, a small, tired smile on his face.
[ MISSION PROGRESS: 85% ]
[ SYSTEM NOTE: PHYSICALLY EXHAUSTED. TACTICALLY SUPERIOR. ]
As Thiago took a sip of water, his hands shaking slightly from the effort, he realized he had done more than just score a point. He had shown them the one thing they were missing in their mid-table slump: a brain that could see the game before it even happened.