Lamii felt something the moment he stepped through the academy gates.
Something had shifted.
The air carried tension—not loud, not chaotic—but sharp. Focused. Dangerous. Players stood in small groups, talking in low voices. Some were stretching too intensely. Others were already doing sprinting drills before training even started.
No one was relaxed.
Because now…
It was real.
"...I heard emails were sent last night."
"…my cousin said scouts requested reports…"
"…someone from France is watching for sure…"
Lamii walked past them without stopping.
But he heard everything.
Every word.
Every rumor.
Every spark of fear and ambition mixed together.
He tightened his grip on his bag.
So it's starting.
Across the field, Papii was already there again.
Same confidence.
Same presence.
But something was different.
He wasn't joking this time.
He wasn't laughing.
He was focused.
Sharp.
Hungry.
Their eyes met for a brief second.
No words.
They didn't need any.
The promise from last night was still alive between them.
We don't stop.
The whistle blew.
Training began—but not like before.
Passes were harder.
Runs were faster.
No one wanted to look average.
Every touch mattered now.
Every mistake felt heavier.
Coach Salva watched in silence for ten minutes.
Then he raised his hand.
"Stop."
The entire field froze.
He looked at his assistant.
Then spoke calmly.
"I'll be calling players one by one."
A pause.
"To discuss your performance."
The message was clear.
This wasn't just feedback.
This was an evaluation.
One by one, names were called.
Players disappeared into the small office near the sideline.
Some came out relieved.
Others are quiet.
A few looked shaken.
Lamii waited.
Watched.
Counted.
Then—
"Lamii."
The office was simple.
A desk.
Two chairs.
A tablet resting on the surface.
Coach Salva sat behind it.
Calm.
Unmoving.
Lamii stepped inside and closed the door.
"Sit."
Lamii did.
Salva slid the tablet toward him.
"Your report."
Lamii looked down.
His name.
Below it—
Strengths:
Vision Decision-making under pressure Spatial awareness
Weaknesses:
Physical strength Acceleration under contact
Lamii read every word carefully.
No emotion on his face.
But inside—
He felt it.
The truth.
Salva leaned back slightly.
"You already know these."
Lamii nodded.
"Yes."
Salva watched him.
Then spoke again.
"You changed the match."
Lamii looked up.
Not surprised.
But focused.
Salva continued.
"You don't play fast."
A small pause.
"You play right."
Lamii remembered those words.
They stayed with him.
Then Salva added something new.
Something heavier.
"You've been noticed."
Silence.
No club name.
No details.
Just that.
Lamii held his gaze.
"By whom?"
Salva didn't answer directly.
"That's not important right now."
He leaned forward slightly.
"What matters is what you do next."
Lamii nodded slowly.
The message was clear.
Being seen meant nothing…
If he couldn't prove it again.
As Lamii stepped out, Papii was already waiting.
He smirked slightly.
"Your turn done?"
Lamii nodded.
Papii walked past him.
"Let's see what they say about a real striker."
Lamii didn't respond.
But something in his chest tightened.
He didn't know why.
Maybe curiosity.
Maybe something else.
Inside the room—
Papii sat confidently.
Leaning back slightly.
He exuded a sense of ownership over the space.
Salva slid the tablet toward him.
Papii glanced at it quickly.
Strengths:
Finishing Power Offensive instinct
Weaknesses:
Decision-making under pressure Over-reliance on instinct
Papii chuckled softly.
"Sounds about right."
Salva didn't smile.
"You score goals."
Papii nodded.
"That's what I do."
Salva leaned forward.
"And that's why…"
A pause.
"You've been contacted."
Papii's eyes sharpened.
Now this was different.
"Contacted?"
Salva met his gaze.
"A club from France asked about you."
Silence.
For the first time—
Papii didn't smile immediately.
Then slowly…
It came.
A confident grin.
"I knew it."
Salva didn't react.
"This means nothing yet."
Papii shrugged.
"It means they're watching."
Salva stood up.
"It means you need to prove it again."
Outside, Lamii watched Papii walk out.
Something was different.
He could feel it.
Papii's posture.
His energy.
More confident.
More… certain.
Papii looked at him and smirked.
"Told you it was starting."
Lamii raised an eyebrow.
"What happened?"
Papii leaned closer.
"A French club is watching me."
There it was.
Clear.
Direct.
Real.
Lamii felt it.
That small pressure.
That quiet question.
Why him first?
But his face didn't show it.
He only nodded.
"Good."
Papii grinned.
"Keep up."
Then he walked away.
Training resumed.
But now—
Everything was worse.
Players forced shots.
Ignored passes.
They put in too much effort.
The game became messy.
Ugly.
Selfish.
Because now—
Everyone wanted to be seen.
Lamii received the ball.
Looked up.
Three teammates open.
No movement.
No structure.
Just chaos.
He passed.
The player lost it immediately.
A counterattack followed.
Goal.
Coach Salva didn't stop it.
He let it happen.
Because this…
Was the real test.
Lamii stood still for a moment.
Watching the chaos.
Listening to players shouting at each other.
Blaming.
Forcing.
Breaking.
Then he exhaled slowly.
This isn't football.
This was panic.
This was ego without control.
And suddenly—
He understood something.
This is my role.
Not to shine alone.
To control everything.
The ball came again.
Lamii dropped deeper.
Demanded it.
"Here."
He received.
Two defenders rushed.
He didn't rush.
One touch.
Turn.
Pass.
"Move."
His voice cut through the noise.
Sharp.
Clear.
Unexpected.
The teammate hesitated—
Then moved.
Lamii repositioned.
Received again.
Another pass.
Another movement.
Slowly—
The game changed.
Not completely.
But enough.
Players began following.
Not because they were told.
But because it worked.
A small-sided match formed naturally.
Intensity high.
Tension everywhere.
Lamii controlled the midfield again.
Then—
It happened.
He received the ball under pressure.
Spun.
Saw the run.
And delivered a perfect through pass.
Diego finished.
Goal.
Silence for a second.
Then—
"Again," Coach Salva said quietly.
Lamii looked up.
Salva was watching him.
Closely.
Then the coach added:
"That's why they're watching you."
Training ended.
But no one felt relaxed.
Because now—
Everyone knew.
This wasn't about talent anymore.
It was about survival.
As Lamii picked up his bag, Coach Salva called him one last time.
"Lamii."
He turned.
Salva's eyes were steady.
"Next match…"
A pause.
"More scouts are coming."
Lamii felt it.
Bigger.
Heavier.
Closer.
Salva finished:
"From bigger clubs."
Silence.
Lamii nodded slowly.
Then walked away.
Not smiling.
Not nervous.
Focused.
Because now—
The signal was clear.
And the real game…
Was just beginning.