Winston and Oswin chatted until Oswin eventually drifted off to sleep. Once the bus had fallen silent, Winston pulled out his journal and began writing down everything that had happened that day.
Alex's movements were still vivid in his mind. After filling a few pages, Winston closed the journal and leaned back in his seat, replaying Alex's words.
Another kind of football... one that pays more... and has no rules.
His gaze drifted toward the bus window. Outside, the full moon bathed the parking lot in pale silver light, making the quiet surroundings almost look like daytime.
Could something like that really exist?
A rustle beside him snapped him back to reality. Oswin had merely shifted in his sleep. Winston glanced down the aisle. Everyone was asleep—His teammates—The coaching staff. Even the bus driver was nowhere to be seen.
Quietly, Winston slipped out of his seat and crept to the back of the bus before sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He removed his boots and trousers but left the ankle weights strapped around his legs.
He had been wearing them for almost a month and a half. He wondered how much faster he would be once he finally took them off. The thought excited him—Still, what fascinated him even more was what had happened during his match with Alex.
For a brief moment, his footwork had felt... different. As though he had been gliding across the grass instead of running. He examined his feet before squeezing the muscles around his calves, hoping to trigger the sensation again. Nothing happened—Several minutes passed in silence. Then an idea suddenly struck him. Lying flat on the floor, Winston raised his legs into the air while supporting his lower back with both hands.
He began making cycling motions. Slowly at first, then faster. Faster—His legs blurred. Suddenly—his feet accelerated on their own.
"Wha—?!" Caught off guard, Winston flipped backward.
Thud!
The back of his head slammed into the cupboard beneath the tiny kitchen counter. The impact echoed through the bus. The assistant coach jolted awake. Still half asleep, he rubbed his eyes and squinted toward the rear of the bus.
Winston instantly curled himself into the cramped corner, barely daring to breathe. After staring into the darkness for a few moments, the assistant coach simply shrugged.
"Must've been something outside..."
Yawning, he lay back down. Only after the coach's breathing became steady again did Winston relax. He rubbed the back of his head, wincing. Then, despite the pain, a grin slowly spread across his face.
It happened again. Without wasting another second, he summoned the Core System.
Ding!
[Core stats]
Name: Daley Winston
Age: 19
Weak Foot: 2
Foot: Right
Profession: Footballer
Team: Westminster F.C. (Under twenty-one team)
Player Rating: 86
Position: Center forward.
Potential: 89
[CORE MERIDIAN]
[Voltage Core: 85%]
Acceleration
Sprint Speed
[Innate Terra: 12%]
Shooting
[Spatial Zenith: 12%]
Passing
[Absolute: 12%]
Dribbling
[Nethen Essence: 88%]
Physical
Reward Points: 20
Acquired skills: 03
Skills shop
So that speed came from the Voltage Core. Winston stared at the notification. Then... does that mean I can move as fast as Maximilian did in that last match? His excitement quickly turned into worry. How am I supposed to explain something like this to people?
His eyes widened. Oh, crap... what if the government captures me and starts running weird experiments on me?
He immediately shook his head. Get a grip, Winston. Maybe I'm not the only person capable of this. Besides, athletes keep breaking records all the time. If I improve gradually, no one will think anything of it.
Taking several deep breaths, Winston slowly calmed himself. Sweat covered his forehead despite the cool night air. He sat cross-legged on the floor, studying the Core System in silence.
A lunch bar lay beside him—the one he had dropped after smashing his head into the cupboard. He picked it up and carefully peeled back the wrapper.
Every few seconds, he glanced toward the front of the bus. Whenever he heard the slightest movement, he froze. Once everything was quiet again, he continued eating, chewing as softly as possible.
Warm, dark-orange sunlight gradually filtered through the bus windows. Winston's eyes snapped open. He hurried back to his seat and pretended to be asleep. A moment later, the head coach's alarm rang.
"Alright, everyone! Outside. Stretches first, then laps around the parking lot."
The team assembled before jogging through their morning warm-up. Afterward, they headed to the stadium, where the head coach had arranged permission to use the facilities before kickoff.
The morning passed much like the previous day. They trained for a couple of hours before the assistant coach arrived with breakfast. Once everyone had finished eating, the head coach gathered the team. He kept the same formation but emphasized defensive discipline.
"I want the back line to stay compact. Defenders, be aggressive with your marking." He pointed toward the midfielders. "When we attack, one of you drops back to cover. The other pushes forward."
His attention shifted to the wingers. "Attack the space behind their defense." Finally, he looked at Winston. "Your target man is Winston."
The coach paused before adding, "And don't worry—you'll be starting today." Although Winston's disappearing act the previous evening had nearly cost him his place, the head coach and his assistants had agreed they needed him for these remaining matches.
During a break in the warm-up, Winston excused himself and slipped into the changing room. Making sure no one was around, he lay on the floor. He raised his legs and began cycling them through the air.
Slowly—then faster—Faster–Suddenly— His feet accelerated. The burst of speed flipped him backward again. This time he landed awkwardly on both knees.
"Urgh..."
He rubbed them with a pained groan. Despite the pain… He smiled. So that's it.
By rapidly accelerating his leg movements, he could trigger the explosive speed he'd experienced against Alex. Now the question was whether he could reproduce it while dribbling.
Maybe adrenaline helps… Or maybe I just need to build enough momentum before the speed kicks in.
Either way, he had learned something important. It wasn't random—He finally understood the first step toward controlling that incredible burst of speed. Still grinning, Winston stood up, dusted himself off, and walked back onto the training pitch.
Ding!
[DAILY USER CHALLENGES]
[Score goals: 0/04]
He jogged onto the training ground and headed straight for Oswin. Just like their usual routine, the two took turns practicing their shooting.
"Yo, Wis, how many goals are you planning to score today?" Oswin asked, placing another ball on the grass.
"Four," Winston replied without hesitation. "I want four goals. What about you? You planning to score one?"
"Nah." Oswin shook his head. "I was just trying to figure out how many goals you need to take the top spot on the scoring board."
Winston grinned. "As long as I've got the maestro beside me, I'll get there."
"Damn right. Never forget it."
Oswin struck the ball toward Winston, who controlled it with one touch before firing it back. After a few more shots, Oswin glanced at him. "So, after these last three matches, are you heading back home?"
"Yeah. I've been missing my family. Besides, I need a short break before the scouts arrive. You know how crazy scout season gets."
Oswin nodded. "True. So, have you decided which club you want to sign for?"
"Not really. Westminster is my first choice, but I'm open to other offers." Winston trapped another pass and curled it toward the top corner. "As long as it's one of the top five clubs."
"I figured you'd say that." Oswin laughed. "Me? I wanted Westminster too, but now... I don't know anymore."
He stretched his back and cracked his shoulders. "I can't wait for this season to end. Sleeping on the bus every other night isn't my style. My whole body's gone stiff."
"I know exactly what you mean."
The pair continued shooting until the head coach finally blew his whistle, signaling everyone to take a break. Players collapsed onto the grass, exhausted after the morning session. A few minutes later, they returned to the changing room to rest before kickoff.
Oswin disappeared somewhere almost immediately, probably chatting with someone or wandering off as usual. Winston headed into the shower area, sat cross-legged against the tiled wall, and silently opened the Core System.
His eyes settled on the Voltage Core.
If I use it during the match... how much faster will I become?
He replayed the morning experiment in his mind. The burst of speed hadn't come from nowhere. It had only activated after his legs reached a certain rhythm and momentum.
So it isn't something I can switch on whenever I want. I need to build up enough speed first. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. If I time it correctly... maybe I can use it just once or twice during the match without anyone noticing.
A smile slowly spread across his face. Let's see what the Voltage Core can really do.