Leo held a plastic bag against his chest as he crossed the narrow street. Two packs of flour, cooking oil and a mango. That was all he could afford, just enough to stretch what little they had left at home.. His mom's voice echoed in his head: "Only what's necessary, Leo. The basics."
The corner shop was quieter than usual. No music playing, no kids hanging outside. Leo stepped in, nodded at the shopkeeper and moved straight to the shelf.
Then he heard it, someone say his name.
"Yo. Leo."
His hand froze mid-reach. He turned slowly. Dante.
Next to him, arms folded and half-grinning, was Alex. Both wore the same confident, rough-around-the-edges swagger from the Pit. Leo instinctively tightened his grip on the shopping bag.
Dante raised a brow, smirking. "Relax. We're not here to throw hands."
Alex stepped in before the tension grew. "Actually came with an offer."
Leo didn't respond, he stared but didn't drop his guard.
"$150," Alex said casually, like he was offering a soda. "Cash prize. Pit tournament. Final round. They're calling in the dogs. Thought you might wanna eat.
Leo let out a small breath. He shook his head. "I'm done with that place."
Dante chuckled. "Sure. But last I checked, those football club trials don't come with free rides. Unless you got a golden chariot parked outside?"
Leo said nothing.
"Think about it, you could use the cash." Alex said, tossing a folded flyer onto the shop counter. Then both turned and left.
…
Leo stood there, bag pressed to his chest, the weight heavier now. Trials were three days away. He hadn't told his mom yet. Transport, kit, water… even getting there was a problem.
He clenched his jaw. "One more. That's it. Just one more." He grabbed the flyer and walked out.
…
Back at his apartment Leo's mind reeled but just then the system prompt.
Ding!
[Side Quest: Final Hustle]
[Objective: Win one last underground match ]
[Reward: +50 System Points ]
[Warning: Repeated Entry into The Pit after this match = Stat Risk]
Leo sighed, "You're still reading my thoughts, Uncle Max?"
[Yes, Always]
As Leo went through the prompt he thought maybe he could change this system's points and get real cash but to be sure he asked.
'What are System Points for, anyway? And System Coins? You've been dropping those and I haven't used any.'
[System Points are used to unlock advanced player traits, passive bonuses, and unique performance skills]
[ System Coins are the hosts currency for system-based purchases in the system store: gear, recovery boosts, even personal upgrades.]
[Think of them as fuel and tools but the host has to understand that the system store is still locked how to unlock it the will be missions given]
[Does the host wish to confirm his balance?]
Leo blinked. 'Yes… what's my balance then?'
[System Status:]
System Points: 50
System Coins: 100
Skill XP: 57% to Level 2
Unlocked Skills: Copy Shot ( Ronal Vega), Focused Touch Lv1
Leo exhaled. That wasn't bad he had some improvement, 57% remaining to unlock level 2 and become a silver Rank.
He laughed softly. 'So I've been broke in real life, but now I'm getting rich in cheat code world. Great.'
…
Two nights later, The Pit buzzed like a hive this round it was louder. This wasn't the usual low-level stuff the pit had called in Brick Mouth Benny a local and underground commentator who records street matches and posts on "BallBuz" . This was final round tension. Gangs circled the field , trash-talk flew through. Some were waving folded cash ready for betting.
"Leo's gonna end them again, watch!"
"Nah man, this time Dante and Alex are prepped. They're not letting the street boy clown them twice."
"You say that, but Sniper's different. Ice cold."
Leo wore a plain black T-shirt and torn track pants. His boots, the Ember Treads, scorched red with faded gray soles on seeing him, Brick Mouth Benny shouted over a megaphone from the sidelines, "Tonight! We see if the Sniper's still got lead in those boots, or if the barrel's gone cold!"
Leo ignored him and stepped into the cage. He wasn't here for hype.
"THE STREET GHOST RETURNS! "Brick Mouth Benny's voice cracked again through a cheap speaker. "Ladies and beasts, welcome to the chaos!
The match started fast, Kicks flew, elbows followed. Two players screamed fake injuries. The ref? Non-existent, The crowd went wild but Leo… was ice.
His passes were sharp, with silent movement.
Opponents swore as he slipped through.
Near the end, a defender grabbed his jersey. Leo spun and cut to the left, heel flick, broke free and shot low.
GO..AAA..L!
Brick Mouth Benny howled into his mic. "And the ghost scores again! Lock your windows, boys, because the Sniper's still haunting cages!"
The game ended 1-0.
"AND THAT'S THE GAME!" Benny screamed. "He has done it again! Someone better check Dante's ego, it's leaking all over!"
Leo walked off the field like cage with a shallow cut above his brow. Jace met him outside his hoodie up, grinning. "That, is it, right? You Okay?"
Leo wiped the blood with his sleeve and nodded. "No more cages.
They counted the prize under a flickering streetlight. Jace kept fifty. Leo took one hundred dollars.
Immediately after getting his pay, Leo heard the system's voice in his mind.
[Congratulations host for winning your last underground game]
[Reward Claimed: 50 System Points]
…
One day later, Leo was at the Kitale Old Park again. Ball at his feet and his shirt drenched. He had to keep on training.
A familiar voice called out, "Still grinding, huh?"
He turned only to met Ray Watson with same swagger, new kit with South District colors.
"You look… thicker. More solid," Ray said, looking him over.
"Been eating stress for breakfast.
Ray laughed. Then got serious. "Look. We've got a match Friday remember?...Open roster. Our striker is out with a sprain."
Leo raised a brow.
"It's paid. Not much. But it's better than chasing ghosts underground."
Leo didn't reply…
Coach Reynolds' voice haunted him. 'You are just. benchwarmer with no talent.'
But this wasn't begging. This was football.
He nodded. "I'm in.
Ray grinned. "Good. Bring those ghost boots. You'll need 'them."
…
On Friday at South District Stadium , Leo sat on a wooden bench, The South District field wasn't pretty. The nets were patched, the touchlines barely marked. But it was real.
The stadium was packed tighter than anyone had expected. The stands groaned under the weight of bodies. Youths climbed chain-link fences, others hung off ledges, all craning to see one player. Fans who saw Leo's clip on BallBuzz were here to see if the street legend was real.
Those that saw him on the bench started their conversation, "Yo! That's Sniper, right? The kid from BallBuzz!"
"Ain't no way he's real! I watched that goal like ten times, bro!"
"He better score today or I'm unfollowing Brick Mouth Benny!"
…
Leo tightened his laces. Ember Treads looked dull under the cloudy sky,
"You're subbing in at twenty," said the coach.
Leo nodded.
The whistle blew and the match began.
At exactly 20th minute, Leo was subbed I, the crowd reaction was loud.
On the other side of the stadium fans engaged in small dialogues,
"Hey! That's him, right? The sniper dude!"
"He's wearing the same boots!"
"I swear if he scores again, I'm tattooing 'Ghost' on my neck!"
Brick Mouth Benny's voice rang out, crackling through a janky mic. Bringing all the fans attention to the real game. He leaned against the fence with his phone.
{"The street ghost enters the league of old men and turf burns., Hot from the street. Leo Foster as been registered as a stand- in striker Under section 9 of Astel's football rule."}
{Fos, will only play today's game as a Stand- in striker for South District club and return to the free agent pool.}
{Now entering…. Eastwood Boy Leo, 'THE SNIPER….!' Let's see if street flash works on real grass." "He's here today at South District Stadium… }
Leo winced. Played harder.
The pitch was rough, with no painted logos. Just stomped dirt and scuffed lines.
His first few touches were awkward. He wasn't playing striker, he was stuck wide out of position.
"Yo! Yo! Wide man! Watch your man!" The coach barked.
The crowd murmured, Some booed while some waited.
And then it came. The 80th minute, he got the ball at his feet. He needed only one touch, chop, Step over and shot.
The net rippled.
The stadium erupted, youths screamed. People threw hands in the air. A man even dropped his soda and didn't notice.
"SNIPER STRIKES!" Benny yelled. "South District, you just got ghosted!"
Ray ran to him. Fist bump. "Told you. You still got it."