Ethan Cole stood in the dim glow of his bedroom, the clock ticking toward midnight on July 20, 2011. The Football System's interface blazed in his mind, its sarcastic voice practically vibrating with excitement as it announced the long-awaited unlock:
**Football System: SSS-Class Striker Template Unlocked (Cristiano Ronaldo, 2011 Real Madrid Peak)**
- **Template Stages**:
- **Stage 1: Sporting Lisbon (2002–03)** – Focus: Raw Athleticism (*Think teenage Ronaldo, all pace and tricks, no polish.*)
- Speed: 90/100
- Dribbling: 88/100
- Finishing: 80/100
- Milestones: Lisbon Lightning (Speed +5), Trickster Flair (Dribbling +5)
- **Stage 2: Manchester United (2006–09)** – Focus: Dynamic Playmaker (*Stepovers, headers, and Premier League swagger.*)
- Speed: 92/100
- Dribbling: 90/100
- Finishing: 85/100
- Milestones: United Surge (Stamina +5), Aerial Dominance (Heading +5)
- **Stage 3: Real Madrid (2011 Peak)** – Focus: Lethal Finisher (*The full Ronaldo package—goals, power, glory.*)
- Speed: 94/100
- Dribbling: 92/100
- Finishing: 95/100
- Milestones: Galactic Strike (Finishing +5), Free-Kick Mastery (Accuracy +5)
- **Current Stage**: Lisbon (2002–03) (*Baby Ronaldo's all yours, mate. Don't trip over those skinny legs.*)
- **Assimilation Progress**: 0% (*You're starting from scratch, hotshot. Train hard, or you'll be stuck doing stepovers in the kiddie league.*)
- **Task**: Impress in first senior team training with Ronaldo template.
- **Reward**: Unlock Lisbon Lightning milestone (Speed +5).
- **Advisory**: Leverage pace and flair to stand out. Slack off, and you'll be back to youth team tea runs.
- **Penalty Risk**: -5% all attributes for one week if you fail (*Because nothing says 'Ronaldo' like flopping in front of Eriksson, right?*).
- **Stats**:
- Stamina: 86/100 (*You're not gasping yet, but don't plan a marathon.*)
- Mental Focus: 78/100 (*Pink Hair's still got you daydreaming. Snap out of it, loverboy.*)
- Team Synergy: 82/100 (*Play nice with Nugent, or he'll steal your lunch.*)
- Passing Accuracy: 88/100 (*Not Xavi, but you're getting there.*)
Ethan grinned, the system's snarky tone making the unlock feel like a mate hyping him up. "Baby Ronaldo, huh? Let's see what you've got," he muttered, flexing his hands. The stage-based template was a game-changer—Sporting Lisbon's raw pace would give him an edge in Leicester's fast-paced training, but he'd need to grind to unlock Manchester United's dynamism and Real Madrid's lethal finishing. The system's detailed metrics and milestones made it feel like leveling up in a game, but its sarcasm kept him grounded: **Don't get cocky, mate. You're not strutting in the Bernabéu yet.**
Leicester City's 2011–12 Championship season was weeks away, with Sven-Göran Eriksson shaping a squad around Kasper Schmeichel, David Nugent, and Paul Gallagher. Ethan's senior team spot had sparked a butterfly effect, drawing scouts to Leicester's youth setup and boosting their reputation. His performance today could solidify his role, maybe even nudge Leicester toward an earlier rise than their 2015–16 miracle. But Jake Turner's threatening text (*Watch your back*) loomed, and the system's warning about his scheming rival kept Ethan on edge.
---
The next morning, Ethan hit Leicester's training ground, the Ronaldo template's Lisbon stage surging through him. His legs felt explosive, his movements sharper than ever. The senior squad—Nugent, Gallagher, Danny Drinkwater—greeted him with nods, but the air crackled with expectation. Eriksson watched from the sidelines, his glasses glinting, while a scout from a Premier League club, rumored to be West Ham, scribbled notes.
The session began with a sprint drill, and Ethan blazed through, his Lisbon Lightning milestone making him a blur. He clocked the fastest 40-meter dash, beating even Nugent. The system cheered: **Speed Progress +3%. Lisbon Lightning Progress: 20% (*Look at you, leaving dust trails. Keep it up, Speedy Gonzales.*).**
The passing drill was trickier. The Ronaldo template's raw athleticism made Ethan's touches flashy but less precise. A sloppy pass drew a frown from Gallagher, and the system jabbed: **Passing Accuracy: 85%. Oof, that was more showboat than playmaker. Tighten up, mate.** Ethan adjusted, linking with Drinkwater, and by the end, his passes were crisper.
**Team Synergy +2 (*You're not besties with the seniors yet, but they don't hate you. Progress!*).**
The scrimmage was Ethan's moment. In a blue bib with Nugent, he faced a red team led by Gallagher. Jake Turner, somehow back as a guest, wore red, his eyes burning with malice. The system snarked: **Your stalker's back with a vengeance. Bet he's got a dirty trick ready. Don't let him ruin your Ronaldo debut.**
The whistle blew, and Ethan erupted. In the 7th minute, Drinkwater played a long ball. Ethan's Lisbon speed outran Jake, his control silky despite the template's rawness. He faced Schmeichel one-on-one, faked a shot, and slotted the ball past him. The net rippled, and Nugent roared, "That's the stuff, Cole!"
**Goal! Lisbon Lightning Progress: 40%. Assimilation Progress: 10% (*Nice one, but don't start signing autographs yet.*).**
Ethan's goal sent ripples beyond the pitch. The West Ham scout whispered to Eriksson, and Ethan caught the words "Premier League potential." His flair was boosting Leicester's profile, drawing bigger clubs' eyes, a butterfly effect that could accelerate their youth pipeline and unearth stars like Riyad Mahrez early.
Jake struck back in the 15th minute, muscling past a defender to rifle a shot past the keeper. He celebrated with a taunting point at Ethan, muttering, "Still better, Cole." The system quipped: **Oh, your fanboy's trying to steal the show. Crush him, or I'll start cheering for his ponytail.**
Ethan's blood boiled. In the 20th minute, he intercepted a pass, weaved through two defenders with Ronaldo's Trickster Flair, and laid off a pinpoint assist to Nugent, who buried it. The system cheered: **Assist! Team Synergy +3. Task Progress: 70% (*You're making friends, but don't expect a group hug.*).**
Then Jake's scheme hit. In the 25th minute, during a corner, he "accidentally" elbowed Ethan in the ribs, out of the ref's sight. Ethan winced, stumbling, but stayed on his feet. The system snapped: **Dirty play alert! Your rival's gone full soap opera villain. Shake it off, or he'll be gloating all week.**
Ethan gritted his teeth, channeling the pain into focus. In the final minute, he latched onto a through ball, outran Jake, and unleashed a curling shot that grazed the post. The system sighed: **Ouch, so close. Finishing -2% for that miss (*Don't worry, even Ronaldo missed sometimes. Maybe.*).**
The scrimmage ended 2–1, Ethan's team on top. Eriksson clapped him over. "Cole, you're staying with the seniors. First match squad's announced soon. Keep sharp." The system glowed: **Task Complete: Permanent senior spot secured. Reward: Lisbon Lightning Unlocked. Speed: 95/100 (*You're a rocket now, but don't crash into the stands.*).**
Jake, sent back to the under-18s, stormed off, but Ethan caught a sly grin as he whispered to a teammate. The system warned: **Plot twist! Your nemesis is cooking something nasty. Bet it's not a cake.**
---
That evening, Ethan headed to Mia Hart's flat, her dinner date lingering in his mind. The system chimed, its sarcasm on full blast: **Advisory: Have fun with Pink Hair, but don't let her distract you from Ronaldo's stepovers. Yachts and groupies don't pay for themselves, you know.** Ethan laughed, appreciating the system's cheeky vibe.
Mia greeted him in a crop top and jeans, her pink hair glowing under fairy lights. "My Ronaldo," she teased, pulling him into a kiss that sparked like wildfire. They sat on her balcony, eating takeout sushi, the night air warm. Mia showed him her phone—his training clips were viral, Willow Creek buzzing about "Leicester's new star."
"You're gonna be huge," she said, her hand on his. "Premier League, screaming fans, maybe even a kid cheering you one day." Her words hit Ethan hard, planting a seed for his future—a family, a legacy, maybe in his mid-20s when he's a global icon.
The system snarked: **Aw, dreaming of tiny Coles already? Focus on the pitch, or you'll be changing diapers instead of scoring screamers.**
Mia leaned closer, her eyes glinting. "You're trouble, Ethan," she whispered, pulling him into a kiss that burned hotter than the last. They stumbled inside, her hands sliding under his shirt, his gripping her hips as they sank onto the couch. The kiss deepened, her breath hot against his neck, their bodies pressed tight, a rhythm that matched the pulse of the city outside. It was electric, a taste of the playboy life—parties, glamour, maybe Taylor Swift or Shakira next—but Ethan kept it grounded, savoring the heat without losing control.
Mia pulled back, her cheeks flushed, a wicked smile on her lips. "You're gonna break hearts worldwide," she teased. "But I'm your first fan."
Ethan grinned, brushing her hair back. "Good. I'll need you in the stands when I'm lifting trophies."
The system quipped: **Mental Focus -1, but I'll allow it because that was *spicy*. Get back to training, or I'll start playing love ballads.** Ethan chuckled, cuddling Mia, but Jake's grin and the system's warning gnawed at him.
---
The next morning, Ethan hit the park, the system's new drill prepping him for the Ronaldo template's next milestone:
**Trickster Flair Drill: Perform 300 stepovers and feints with 90% accuracy. Reward: Dribbling +3 (*Because nothing says Ronaldo like making defenders look silly.*).**
He danced through cones, the Lisbon stage's raw athleticism making his moves dazzling. By the 250th feint, he was a blur, the system updating: **Drill Progress: 85%. Dribbling: 94/100 (*You're a showoff now. Don't trip over your own ego.*).**
At training, Nugent pulled Ethan aside. "Heard Turner's been mouthing off to scouts, saying you're overrated. Watch yourself." The system snarked: **Told you! Your stalker's got a vendetta. Bet he's planning something big for the season opener.**
Ethan's fists clenched. The Ronaldo template was his weapon, Leicester his stage, and Mia his spark. But Jake's scheme was a storm brewing, and the Championship season loomed. Would Ethan dominate, or would Jake's plot strike? And that distant vision of a kid in the stands—his legacy—was it closer than he thought?