The smell of fresh-cut grass and synthetic pitch filled Tobi Oliveira's lungs as he stood before Valencia CF's training ground. The familiar crunch of gravel under his cleats grounded him, yet everything felt different. The atmosphere was heavier, thicker, more serious. This wasn't just another match prep. This was his life now.
In one hand, he carried a worn black backpack, its seams fraying with the weight of schoolbooks, notes, and a laptop. Slung over the other shoulder was his training bag, neatly packed with his kit, boots, and protein bars his mother insisted he carry. Two worlds constantly colliding — school and football. Teenager and professional. Past life and present reality.
His phone buzzed with a message:
Mum (Marta)
> Don't forget: sponsor call at 7. School at 8. Training at 10. I'll bring lunch.
He sighed and typed a quick thumbs-up in reply, then hesitated. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and thought:
"System. Open."
> [SYSTEM INTERFACE LOADED]
Player: Tobi Oliveira
Age: 17
Position: CAM (Central Attacking Midfielder)
Current Club: Valencia CF (First Team)
> NOTICE: Stats recalibrated to professional level. Previous youth-level advantages nullified.
> Overall Rating: 77
Attribute Current-- Max Potential Notes
Passing 82-- 95 Vision remains elite
Dribbling 79-- 92 Solid but under pressure
Shooting 76--88 Accuracy dips under fatigue
Stamina 74--89 Drops late second half
Tactical IQ 81-- 96 Boosted by past life experience
Mental Resilience 68 --99 Trauma lingers
Confidence Points 2 N/A Earned through key moments
> Trait Progress:
"Leader Under Pressure" (2/5 matches complete)
The screen flickered before fading back into his subconscious. No cheering crowd, no dramatic music. Just cold data reflecting the harsh reality of where he stood now. A boy in a man's world, being measured.
---
Morning Grind
Inside the facility, players began trickling into the changing rooms. Tobi gave nods to a few teammates. Some returned them. Others barely noticed.
He wasn't fully accepted. Not yet. He was still the newcomer. Still the schoolboy. Still the player with whispers behind his back: "He got fast-tracked too quickly." "His mom's his agent?" "Another youth hype train."
But Tobi was used to whispers. He'd lived through much worse.
Baraja, the head coach, walked in and clapped once to get their attention. "We're starting with tactical drills. Midfield groups, high press transition. Then we move into small-sided matches."
Tobi dressed quickly, pulling his training shirt over his head, his heart pounding. This was his shot to prove something — to the coach, to the squad, to himself.
The drills were intense. Fast transitions, high pressure. No time to breathe. In the first rotation, he lost the ball twice. Once on a heavy touch. Once trying to dribble past a defender who read him like a book.
Baraja shouted, "Simple, Oliveira! Simpler football!"
Humiliation burned. He adjusted. Started playing faster, one-touch passes. Found runners. Controlled the tempo.
> SYSTEM UPDATE:
Training Performance Score: 7.4
Micro-boost: +1 Confidence Point
By the end, he was sweating through every pore but satisfied. He wasn't the best on the pitch, but he had shown he belonged.
---
The Classroom Battlefield
From the pitch to the classroom, the transition felt like a slap.
He sat in the back of his math class, hoodie pulled up, trying to stay invisible. But the attention followed him everywhere. Notebooks scribbled with his name. Messages in lockers. Group chats sharing blurry photos of him leaving training.
"Hey, superstar," one classmate smirked. "Sign my calculator?"
He forced a smile. "Only if it helps you pass."
Laughter broke out. But behind the teasing, he could feel the tension. They didn't see the grind. The dual life. The hours of extra training, of schoolwork done at midnight. They just saw the jersey.
His teachers tried to be supportive. Some more than others.
"Tobi," his biology teacher said after class, "I've seen you juggle two lives. Just promise me you'll let us know if it becomes too much."
He nodded. But what could he say?
"Oh, by the way, I lived this life once before and killed myself at 26. Don't worry, I've got a second chance and a football system in my brain."
No. He kept it in.
---
Home is Everything
Home was their small Valencia apartment. Cozy. Cluttered. Full of love.
Leonor, his 13-year-old sister, met him at the door, arms wide. "Tobiiii! You missed my goal today!"
He picked her up with a groan. "I saw the video! That nutmeg was dirty!"
She giggled. "Coach says if I keep this up, I might get to train with the under-15 girls next month!"
Their mom, Marta, walked in holding her phone in one hand, a notepad in the other.
"Your agent is proud of you," she said with a wink.
Tobi flopped onto the couch. "Agent, mom, chef, driver, therapist... you need a raise."
"Talk to your sponsors," she joked, ruffling his hair. Then her tone softened. "I know it's a lot. You're doing well. Just keep going."
He looked at her and Leonor, both smiling, both glowing with pride. This was his real trophy.
---
Late Night Reflection
He sat alone in his room, legs still sore, textbooks open but untouched. He opened the System again.
> [SYSTEM MESSAGE]
You are under heavy load. Would you like to activate Focus Mode for study?
He tapped "Yes."
His mind cleared, thoughts sharpening. Words on the page glowed faintly as the System helped him absorb and retain.
> STUDY SESSION: COMPLETE
+1 Tactical IQ (off-ball decision-making)
+0.5 Stamina (mental endurance)
Then, before bed, he rewatched his morning session. Not for vanity, but to improve.
He paused on one clip — a missed through-ball.
"I was too early with the pass," he muttered.
The System confirmed:
> Correct. 0.7 seconds too early. Suggestion: engage defender for 1.2 seconds longer next time.
He grinned. It was working. Slowly. Painfully. But it was working.
Tomorrow, he'd wake up and do it all again. Training. School. Family. Healing.
He looked at the wall where his sister's childish drawing of him lifting a La Liga trophy hung.
He whispered to the ceiling, to his past self, to the silence:
"This time... I won't waste it."
---