The afternoon sun baked the cracked pavement outside the old stadium, turning the ground into waves of shimmering heat. Ares Locke stood in its glare, breath steady, hands clenched. Sweat trickled down his jaw, dripped off his chin, and fell to the dirt like sparks. His legs trembled—not from exhaustion, but from anticipation.
Today mattered.
Not because Rowan Vale demanded it.
Not because the system required it.
But because Ares himself needed to prove he wasn't just a fluke…
or a pity project…
or a temporary story that readers would forget.
He wanted to become someone impossible to ignore.
A shadow appeared in front of him.
Rowan.
The scout walked across the field with the composed confidence of someone who carried expectations like armor. His neatly pressed shirt contrasted the gritty training environment, but his sharp eyes took in everything—the grass, the cones, the setup, and most importantly… Ares.
"You're early," Rowan said.
Ares nodded. "I figured… being late isn't an option."
"Hm." Rowan's lips formed the ghost of a smirk. "Good answer."
Ares waited for instruction, but Rowan didn't immediately begin. Instead, he circled Ares slowly, studying him with an unreadable expression.
"You look different today," Rowan said.
Ares stiffened. "Different how?"
"Your eyes." Rowan stopped directly in front of him. "You look like you finally believe you're capable of something."
Ares swallowed. "I'm trying."
Rowan raised a brow. "Trying is cheap. Results aren't."
Before Ares could reply, the system chimed softly.
DING.
⸻
Reader Focus Detected: HIGH
Host mental clarity increased by 12%
⸻
Ares blinked in surprise.
High focus?
Whoever the readers were… they were watching closely.
Rowan didn't notice the flicker of the panel, but he did notice the shift in Ares's posture.
"You're ready," Rowan concluded. "Good. Because today I'm pushing you harder."
He pointed toward the cones lined up across the pitch.
"Dribbling sequence. Precision over speed. Complete it cleanly."
Ares inhaled deeply and stepped toward the first cone.
Rowan added, "You get one attempt."
Ares froze mid-step.
"One?" he repeated.
Rowan nodded. "The Rising Star Trials won't give you second chances. Why should I?"
Ares gritted his teeth.
One attempt.
One shot.
One chance.
He lowered his stance, tightened his core, and placed the ball at his feet.
The field fell silent.
Ares exhaled.
His world narrowed into a tunnel—the cones, the ball, and the expectations pressing down on him like invisible hands.
"Begin," Rowan said.
Ares moved.
His first touch was clean.
His second, sharper.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His body flowed more naturally than yesterday, each motion smoother, more controlled. But halfway through the sequence, doubt crept in.
Too slow.
Too cautious.
Not enough—
DING.
⸻
Reader Emotion Detected: ENCOURAGEMENT
Passive Boost: Balance +6%
⸻
Ares nearly stumbled—not from the ball, but the sudden warmth flooding his muscles. He didn't question it. He leaned into it.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He slipped past the fourth cone.
Fifth.
Sixth.
Rowan's eyes narrowed—Ares couldn't see the expression clearly, but he felt it. Pressure. Judgement. Something sharp and demanding.
His foot slipped.
Just slightly.
Barely noticeable—
But to Rowan? It would be everything.
NO.
Ares caught himself at the last millisecond, anchoring his weight with a twist of his hips, regaining control in a single motion.
The system chimed loudly.
DING!
⸻
Reader Emotion Detected: SURPRISE
Skill Triggered: Unyielding Spark — Emergency Activation
Stats increased for 5 seconds
⸻
Ares surged forward, weaving past the final cones, the ball glued to his foot with unnatural precision. He ended the sequence with a controlled stop, the ball settling perfectly under his sole.
Silence.
Rowan stared at him for several seconds, expression unreadable. Then—
"…Good," he finally said.
Ares's heart jolted.
Not "terrible,"
not "barely acceptable,"
not "again."
Just—
Good.
A single word, but it hit harder than any praise he'd ever received.
"Again tomorrow," Rowan said. "We're building consistency. One good performance means nothing."
Ares nodded, trying to hide the pride burning in his chest.
Rowan turned away, but after two steps, he said:
"And Ares?"
Ares straightened. "Yes?"
"That recovery step you did halfway through… that wasn't normal." Rowan's eyes sharpened. "It was instinctive. Almost like you knew what would happen before it did."
Ares froze.
Did Rowan… notice the system's influence?
"I've coached hundreds of players," Rowan continued. "Talent I understand. Hard work I respect. But whatever that was…" He paused. "…don't lose it."
Ares nodded slowly. "I won't."
Rowan left the stadium without another word.
Only after his silhouette vanished did Ares collapse onto the grass, breath shaking.
The system chimed again.
DING.
⸻
Quest Complete: Impress Rowan Vale
Reward Granted:
• Minor Physical Boost (+2 Strength, +3 Agility)
• Random Passive Perk: "Fluid Footwork (Lv.1)"
Perk Effect: Slightly increases dribbling smoothness and reduces energy drain when performing sharp turns.
⸻
Ares let out a shaky laugh.
"This is insane… but I'll take it."
The system wasn't finished.
DING.
⸻
New Quest:
[Make a Play That Ignites Readers]
Objective: Perform any action—during training or in match simulation—that generates a strong emotional response from readers.
Reward: Hidden Skill Fragment
Penalty: Ability Suppression (12 hours)
⸻
Ares's pulse quickened.
A hidden skill fragment?
Those were rare in any system literature, even the fake ones he used to read online. Hidden skills meant something game-changing—maybe even something legendary.
But to earn it…
He had to impress the readers.
Not Rowan.
Not himself.
Not the system.
The readers.
The invisible eyes watching from a distant world, waiting for him to rise… or fall.
He pushed himself off the ground, dusted dirt from his sweat-damp clothes, and stared across the field.
Every challenge so far felt like preparation.
This one felt like a test.
He set up the ball.
If they wanted a play worth watching—
He would give them something unforgettable.
Ares stepped back, tightening every muscle in his body.
The readers were watching.
The system was listening.
His future was forming.
He sprinted forward—
and the chapter ended there, on the edge of a new moment.
A moment that could define everything.