Ethan Cole woke before his alarm, the dim glow of dawn creeping through his bedroom curtains. It was Saturday, June 8, 2011, the day of his debut match for Willow Creek FC's youth team against Stonefield United. His heart thumped with a mix of nerves and excitement, the Football System's interface flickering in his mind like a neon sign:
**Football System: S-Class Striker Template (Thierry Henry, 2003 Arsenal Peak)**
- Speed: 87/100
- Finishing: 81/100
- Dribbling: 83/100
- Milestones: Locked (Highbury Sprint [60%], Arsenal's Elegance [30%], Va-Va-Voom Finishing [40%])
- Assimilation Progress: 30%
- Task: Score in your debut match against Stonefield United.
- Reward: Unlock 'Highbury Sprint' milestone (Speed +5).
- Penalty for Failure: -10% shooting accuracy for one month.
Ethan clenched his fists, the system's warning echoing. He'd trained relentlessly all week, sprinting until his lungs burned, firing shots until his boots were scuffed raw. But 30% assimilation wasn't enough. The system had been clear: incomplete training meant penalties, and a -10% accuracy hit could ruin his debut. He couldn't let that happen—not when this match was his first step toward greatness.
He rolled out of bed, grabbed his gear, and checked his phone. A text from Coach Hargreaves: *Be at the pitch by 9 AM. Don't be late, Cole.* Ethan smirked. Late? He'd be the first one there.
Downstairs, his mum was flipping bacon in the kitchen, the smell filling the cramped house. His dad, Tom, sat at the table, nursing a mug of tea and scanning the local paper. "Big day, eh?" Tom said, glancing up. "Don't go tripping over the ball like last time."
Ethan forced a smile. In his first life, his dad's jabs had stung, fueling his insecurities. Now, they were just noise. "I've got this, Dad," he said, grabbing a slice of toast. "Watch me."
His mum turned, her eyes soft but worried. "Just do your best, love. We're proud no matter what."
Ethan nodded, but pride wasn't enough. He wanted glory—stadiums chanting his name, scouts begging for his signature, a future where he owned clubs and companies, not just played for them. The system was his key, and today, he'd prove it.
---
Willow Creek Park was alive with energy by 9 AM. The youth team's pitch, a patchy field flanked by a rickety wooden stand, buzzed with parents, local kids, and a handful of scouts in cheap suits. Ethan, in his number 9 kit, stretched on the sidelines, the Henry template making his movements feel fluid, almost alien. His teammates, a mix of cocky teens and nervous newbies, eyed him warily. Word of his tryout performance had spread, and not everyone was thrilled about the "new Ethan."
Jake Turner, warming up with the red-shirted Stonefield United team, caught Ethan's eye and smirked. "Ready to choke, Cole?" he called, juggling a ball with infuriating ease. Jake was their star striker, a natural talent who'd already drawn interest from Championship clubs. In Ethan's first life, Jake's taunts had crushed him. Today, they were fuel.
"Keep talking, Turner," Ethan muttered, focusing on the system's latest drill:
**Precision Finishing Drill: Complete 50 shots with 80% accuracy. Progress: 90%. Reward: Finishing +2.**
He'd spent the week hammering shots at the park, nailing 45 out of 50 targets. The system pinged as he visualized his last practice:
**Drill Complete. Finishing: 83/100. Va-Va-Voom Finishing Progress: 50%.**
Coach Hargreaves blew his whistle, gathering the team. "Listen up!" he barked, his voice like gravel. "Stonefield's got a tight defense, but their left-back's slower than my nan. Cole, you're our point man. Get in behind and make it count."
Ethan nodded, the system's task flashing in his mind: *Score in your debut match.* He glanced at the stands, spotting his parents in the crowd, his mum waving a homemade sign: *Go Ethan!* A girl with bright pink hair and a camera—Mia Hart, a local Instagram influencer—snapped photos nearby. Ethan caught her eye, and she winked. His pulse quickened, but he pushed it aside. Focus first, flirt later.
The whistle blew, and the match kicked off. Ethan felt the Henry template surge, his legs itching to move. Willow Creek played a fast, direct style, and Ethan positioned himself high, probing for gaps. In the 5th minute, a teammate lofted a ball over the top. Ethan sprinted, outpacing Stonefield's center-back, but the left-back—number 3, a hulking kid named Liam—clipped his heel. Ethan stumbled, the ball rolling out.
**Penalty Applied: -5% Dribbling Control (Incomplete Assimilation).**
Ethan cursed under his breath. The system wasn't playing around. He shook it off, jogging back into position. Jake Turner, lurking near midfield, grinned. "Nice trip, Cole. Need a map?"
The first half was a grind. Stonefield's defense was solid, and their keeper, a wiry kid with reflexes like a cat, snuffed out every chance. Ethan took a shot in the 20th minute—a curling effort from the edge of the box—but it sailed wide.
**Penalty Applied: -7% Shot Accuracy (Incomplete Assimilation).**
"Come on!" Ethan growled, slamming his fist into the grass. The system's voice was cold: **Recommended Action: Increase assimilation through training to avoid further penalties.**
Halftime came with the score 0–0. In the locker room, Hargreaves tore into the team. "You lot are playing like you're half-asleep! Cole, stop overthinking and start finishing!" Ethan nodded, his jaw tight. He wasn't just fighting Stonefield—he was fighting the system's demands.
The second half began, and Ethan doubled down. The Henry template's instincts kicked in, guiding his runs. In the 60th minute, he slipped past Liam, latching onto a through ball. The keeper rushed out, but Ethan's chip was too high, grazing the crossbar.
**Penalty Applied: -10% Shot Accuracy (Repeated Errors).**
The crowd groaned, and Jake's laugh echoed across the pitch. "You're a fraud, Cole!" he shouted, scoring a tap-in minutes later to put Stonefield 1–0 up. Ethan's blood boiled. He wasn't losing this—not to Jake, not to the system.
With 10 minutes left, Willow Creek won a free kick near the box. Ethan took the ball, ignoring his teammates' protests. The system pinged:
**Temporary Boost: Va-Va-Voom Finishing (60% Power).**
He visualized Henry's iconic goals—the cool precision, the deadly curve. The wall set up, the keeper crouched. Ethan took a deep breath, ran up, and struck the ball. It swerved, dipping past the keeper's fingertips into the top corner.
**Goal! Task Progress: 100%. Reward: Highbury Sprint Unlocked. Speed: 92/100.**
The crowd erupted, Ethan's parents screaming from the stands. He sprinted to the sidelines, mimicking Henry's slide, his heart pounding with triumph. Mia Hart's camera flashed, capturing the moment. Jake's smirk was gone, replaced by a scowl.
The match ended 1–1, but Ethan's goal was the talk of the pitch. Hargreaves clapped him on the shoulder. "Not bad, kid. Keep that up, and you'll go places."
As the crowd dispersed, a man in a Leicester City jacket approached. "Ethan Cole? I'm David Walsh, scout. That goal was something else. Fancy a trial with us next month?"
Ethan's eyes widened. Leicester City—a Championship club, one step from the Premier League. "Yes, sir," he said, shaking Walsh's hand. The system pinged:
**New Task: Impress at Leicester City trial. Reward: Unlock 'Arsenal's Elegance' milestone (Dribbling +5). Penalty for Failure: -15% all attributes for one month.**
Ethan walked home, adrenaline still coursing through him. Mia Hart caught up, her pink hair bouncing. "Nice goal, superstar," she teased, handing him her number scribbled on a napkin. "Call me sometime."
Ethan grinned, pocketing the napkin. The system's rewards were sweet, but so was the attention. He could already see it—stadiums, headlines, maybe even a date with someone like Taylor Swift one day. And money. Enough to buy clubs, build an empire.
That night, he lay in bed, the system's interface glowing:
**Assimilation Progress: 35%. New Drill Unlocked: Explosive Sprints. Complete 200 sprints to boost Highbury Sprint to 75%.**
Ethan stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. Jake Turner's goal stung, but it was a reminder: he had rivals, and the system wouldn't let him coast. He'd train harder, score more, climb higher. Stonefield was just the start. Leicester City was next. Then the Premier League, the world, and everything beyond.
He closed his eyes, picturing a future where he wasn't just a player, but a tycoon—a legend who owned the game.