[Please, select a field to assign the Subject]
[•Tec •Phy •n •Def]
Diego hadn’t seen this prompt before. It seed to have been triggered the mont his hand t Damian’s.
It looked important, but he couldn’t risk losing focus, so he closed the system and fixed his mind back on the match.
Ultimately, the intra-school ga ended in a draw.
A penalty shootout was called to decide the winner, and Damian’s team ca out on top.
Diego didn’t even get the chance to take his shot before their undisputed victory was sealed.
He didn’t think much about the mysterious prompt again until he was back ho.
Coach De had told him he played well for the short ti he was on the pitch and would like to try him more at wingback to see his potential in that position.
"Not bad play for soone who cracked a skull," was Damian’s remark, too.
It was a backhanded complint, but Diego liked it.
He thought about everything that happened that day, even as he quietly ate lunch at the dining table.
"Aha, the system..."
Once he rembered, he rushed into his room and brought it up again.
That was when he discovered that he had activated his innate skill: from that brief touch.
[10X TRAIT BINDING: By making physical contact with a target, you create a binding link to one of their football attributes. From that mont on, every point they gain in the chosen field will be mirrored to you at ten tis (1000%) the value. Their progress remains untouched; only you gain the multiplied reflection.]
[Currently Level 1: Only one person can be bound at a ti. Only one field can be selected. The bond lasts for seven days before expiring, after which a new contact is required to renew it.]
After reading, Diego was stupefied. He rubbed his eyes, certain the system was joking.
But it was no joke. The innate skill was real, and he knew just how broken it was.
At level 1, the bond lasted only seven days, after which a new contact was required to renew it. That was a drawback.
Diego suspected this limitation could prove inconvenient, but it didn’t lower his excitent. He was still elated.
He could link to the best players around him and gain ten tis their progress the more they trained. The sheer advantage was mind-blowing!
[The ultimate goal of the system is for the host to absorb the traits of the greatest players across all career levels, from grassroots to professional, so that one day, he becos the GOAT, fully recognized from grass to sky]
"Incredible," Diego replied.
His first subject was Damian. It was already a good choice because Damian was the best player in his league now, as much as Diego didn’t like to admit.
Once he set the specific field to assign to that brat, Diego would passively gain points whenever Damian trained in that aspect.
Damian had always been a Forward, but he had experience in several positions and perford well in each.
He also had an ideal physique for a 12-year-old. No surprise, that’s why Luz, the prettiest girl in class, had kissed him once!
Diego hesitated between Physicality and Technicality, but in the end, he chose Physicality.
[Physicality assigned to Subject]
A calculation imdiately followed.
[Prediction: 0.005% per day]
[Luka Modric: 60% boost]
The numbers were confusing. Diego knew nothing about decimals or percentages. All he knew was that he was going places with this.
"I’m going places with this!" he yelled.
~Knock! Knock!
Two soft knocks on his door interrupted his little theatre of excitent.
Before Diego could even open it, the intruder slipped inside.
"Hallo," squeaked his youngest sister, Olalla.
Instead of beaming at her, Diego frowned, as if she carried pathogens.
"What are you doing at ho at this ti?" he demanded.
"She’s here to stay with you," ca another voice from behind the door.
Mrs. Montoya’s silhouette filled the doorway.
Diego’s mother had gotten heavier lately. Just the other day, she had fractured the kitchen stool when she sat on it.
Diego greeted his mother and gently patted Olalla on the head.
"I’m going to the market with Oma. Olly will stay with you till we return. Don’t make a ruckus, alright?" Mrs. Montoya said. "Two hours. Take care of yourselves. And Olly? You stay wherever your brother is. Always."
"Yes, mama," Diego said solemnly. Inwardly, he groaned.
His mother squinted at him as if studying him for the first ti.
She thought he had changed. Of course, he had, because she could never leave the lastborn with the old Diego.
This new son was neat and organised. His room was tidy and not a garbage site like before.
A few scribbled notes lay open beside his exercise book, but the overall sight was sothing a mother would be proud of.
Maybe it was puberty, maybe the head injury had knocked so sense into the boy after all.
"Hmm," Mrs. Montoya humd. "Alright. Be good. I’ll bring you both sothing nice."
"Okay, mama," Diego chorused.
Eighty percent convinced, his mother gave one last glance before she left.
The mont she disappeared, Diego exhaled and turned to his sister. His smile had dropped already.
"Alright, demon," he said. "Don’t touch anything. You can scribble on those waste papers or play with the toy box. But if you break anything, I’ll... I’ll bite off a toe."
Olalla blinked innocently while dragging a chair toward his table.
Diego groaned.
Seating at his desk, he picked up his howork and got to work before she could spark chaos.
Math first, English later, and the rest he just guessed through.
His handwriting looked like a mother hen’s footwork, but it was legible enough. After thirty minutes, he was done, or close enough to "done" by his own standard.
Leaning back, he tapped his pencil against his cheek. When Olly looked at him, his eyes were distant.
He was thinking about his system and how he could climb faster with it than any prodigy. He could beco very famous, beco a GOAT.
’It ans Greatest Of All Ti!’ he exclaid.
Diego decided to wait 24 hours before he checked what gain he made in his Physicality from Damian being his Subject.
When he looked back at Olalla, she was sprawled on the floor, drawing a stick figure kicking a ball into a triangle that vaguely resembled a goalpost.
The girl was bored, Diego could see her yawning.
"Alright, co on," he said, standing up. "Let’s play ball. Mom didn’t say we couldn’t play outside, did she?"
Olalla’s face brightened instantly. "Yay! Yay!"
Diego grabbed the half-deflated ball and his PUMA needle pump as they left the room.
The Montoya field wasn’t much to look at, but it still felt like a kingdom to Diego as he and his sister happily trudged onto it.
The whole field wasn’t even a quarter of the football standard, but it stretched far enough to give the illusion of freedom. The grass wasn’t evenly mown, and thorny bushes hemd the front and left sides.
"Goalkeeper Olly!" Diego called, tossing her the ball.
She caught it, but she fell from her tilt, tumbling backward onto the grass and laughing like a chirping bird.
Behind the little girl was a rusted small-sized post.
Diego could fit countless balls beside her, but he wasn’t here to win. Olalla was still a little girl, and even though she could be annoying, he knew it was only Paloma’s influence rubbing off on her.
So, he played the fool by missing the easiest shots. Afterwards, they switched roles, and he also let her score while he dived in the wrong direction every ti.
"I scored again!"
"Awww, damnit! I guess you’re ready for Barca."
"Yes!" Olly squealed, puffing her chest.
"But can you do this?"
Little Olly watched as her brother took three steps before giving the ball a solid kick.
The shot was so strong, it attracted a whistle of air. Soaring high, the ball rolled away, thudding against the dusty edge of the nearby road.
"Wow! It went so far!" Olly gasped.
"Yeah, it did," Diego said with pride.
"I’ll get it!"
Olalla could easily retrieve it, because the ball was still on the premises. But as she took steps forward, sothing in Diego turned to ice.
"No, Olly—wait! I’ll go."
Olly didn’t disobey her brother. She stopped and watched him jog off to the roadside where he picked up the ball.
Diego stood for a while, holding the leather against his hip, and his eyes wandering as if he was cautious of sothing.
Then, he looked to the side.
Behind the field, near the low wall swallowed by bush, there was a stone slab sunk into the earth. It was a grave. Aaron’s grave.
Three years ago, he and his older brother Aaron were playing in this sa field with the sa ball.
Just like now, Diego had kicked the ball so hard it crossed the road, and Aaron, reckless and triumphant, had run after it.
The road had been quiet that day. The road was always quiet.
Except for that one truck.
Diego had stood there frozen as his brother was mauled by the vehicle, killing him instantly.
Now, three years later, the air still held the ghost.
"Still kicking, brother," he whispered.
Then he turned back to Olalla with a forced smile. "Got it!" he called, jogging toward her.
She waved, bouncing with joy.
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed the SIXTH Chapter! Please support with powerstones and golden tickets!
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