The moment the match ended and Leo stepped off the pitch, sweat was pouring down his face. Later a small envelope was handed to him by one of the South District assistants.
He opened it quietly at the edge of the dressing room, inside, their was $80 cash. Folded neatly.
'Humble, but real, it ain't scraps either.' Leo muttered, trying not to smile. This was his first pay as a club player even though he was just playing in place of an injured South District Club striker.
Leo folded the small envelope and kept it well then suddenly he saw the system's prompt.
Ding!
[Hosts First Organized Match recorded]
[Reward Claimed: New Passive Unlocked: Adaptive Field Awareness (Lv.1) and Slight boost to positioning under pressure.]
"That's new," Leo whispered, his eyes darting around. No one seemed to notice. The screen blinked and faded back into his mind.
…
Across the street, Jace jogged over, waving his phone.
Who is this STREET GHOST?!"
That was the caption under the clip that lit up BallBuzz like fireworks. The camera was shaky but it didn't matter. The moment the ball left Leo's boot and hit the back of the net, it was magic.
The comment section exploded,
"Bro's not even wearing proper boots!"
"He's got the hunger. Watch out."
"Is that the same Leo Foster from Silvercrest? Damn."
By the next day, it wasn't just BallBuzz. The clip made it onto VibBlitz,( like TikTok) and even SkyReel, a football-only media app like a cross between ESPN and Twitter. Local pages were tagging him. Memes, edits and Slow-mo replays with fire emojis field the comment section.
Leo scrolled through them all, sitting on the couch with leftover noodles on his lap. His hands trembled slightly. This was real.
He hadn't expected it. One goal. One gritty match. And suddenly his name was out there again.
Nova Sport Network ran a short segment.
Two analysts sat on opposite sides of a clean white desk.
One of them, old-school with a bald head and a permanent frown, crossed his arms. "It's just a street clip. Kid's got flair, but you need structure to survive in this game."
The other, younger with messy dreads and a bomber jacket, leaned in. "Flair's what starts the fire. You give that kid structure, he might just burn the whole pitch down."
Hearing that, Leo nearly dropped his fork.
…
Back in Silvercrest, behind a polished desk and glass windows, Coach Reynolds stared at the same clip.
He didn't say anything at first, he just watched.
Then played it again, then a third time.
Finally, he scoffed. "Street trash will always stay trash." But his fingers tapped against the desk, sharp and irritated.
Meanwhile, Leo's inbox was chaos.
DMs flooded in. Half from fake agencies with names like "FootElite Pro" and "Global Soccer FutureZ." Then some weird people asking if he'd promote their protein powder or "custom soccer charms."
One message popped up: "Hey, loved your goal. Just need a $25 deposit to register you into our talent pool."
Leo hovered over the link, but before he could over think about it…
"BRO!" Jace's voice blasted from the open window as he climbed through like a raccoon. "You're not seriously clicking that, right?"
Leo jumped. "What are you doing?"
"Saving your career, idiot. If someone can't spell 'contract' right, don't trust them with your future."
Leo stared at the message again, the link now looked like a loaded trap. He closed it.
Jace flopped onto the couch. "You're blowing up, man. I knew it. Knew it when you smoked Dante the second time. Knew it when you didn't celebrate. That's ghost energy."
Leo snorted. "You talk too much."
"And you think too much. Chill. This is just the start. You're blowing up. BallBuzz posted the goal and Brick Mouth Benny slapped a remix on it."
Leo raised a brow. "Remix?"
"Yeah, man. Like… slow-mo. with the crowd shouting 'Street Ghost' behind it. Hashtag trending: #GhostBoots."
Leo winced. "That's so dumb."
"It's viral dumb. You're famous now."
Jace shoved his phone into Leo's face.
Thousands of views. Comments pouring in.
@NoveeQueen_22: "Kid's not even wearing branded boots. But he dances past defenders. Mad."
@UrbanCoach_X: "Raw. Wild. Coach him right and he's Astel League National level."
@BrickMouthBenny: "I'll saw that curl? With no budget boots? Ghost-foot strikes again!"
Leo laughed but shook his head. "One goal. That's all it takes, huh?"
"Nah, it's not just the goal. It's the vibe, man. You look like you're dragging your past with every step. Fans feel that."
Leo was about to respond when his phone buzzed again. This time, a message link. Title: "Player Sponsorship Offer."
He stared at it, thumb hovering over the open button.
"Yo, WAIT!" Jace slapped his hand away. "Don't click those. Scam vibes, bro. Look at that email address…
asteriafootie1234@zaf( for yahoo) Who even uses zaf in 2032?"
Leo blinked. "Damn. Almost clicked it."
Jace pulled out a soda from his pocket . "That's why you keep me around. But listen, there's bigger news. Football Federation dropped a bomb today. Check this."
It was a breaking news, the headline scrolled in bold red.
[BREAKING: New Youth Football Regulations Enacted by Aurion (For European) Football Federation]
Then a voiceover boomed: "Effective immediately, all players under the age of 18 must register under a recognized guardian or club to participate in any regional or professional match series. Any free agents will be barred after a two-week grace period… Youth clubs are entitled to promotion commission per league tier"
Leo stiffened.}
Jace looked over. "You're U 18 right? And as of now Unregistered?"
Leo nodded slowly. "It looks like they're cutting out the wanderers… the freelancers. But a "Guardian…?" he murmured.
Jace leaned over his shoulder, chewing on a piece of gum. "Guardian? Like… football daddy?"
Leo groaned. "You're so dumb."
But inside, something twisted. He didn't have a football guardian. His father was gone, and his mom was working nonstop just to keep the lights on.
Who was going to vouch for him because he needed a club. He wasn't underage in his Astel Nation but in Aurion Continent, Football rulebook followed their own timeline.
…
Later on while Leo was still thinking about the path on which his career will take, he heard the system prompt appeared.
Ding!
[System Main Quest Triggered: Hosts Formal Registration Required]
[New Mission: Register with a Guardian or Club Sponsor] [Time Limit : Host has 72 Hours]
[Reward: 100 System Coins + Player Growth Stat Bonus]
[Penalty: Stat Lock on Physical Attributes for 3 Days]
Leo blinked at the screen.
[Reward: Unlock of Stat Allocation Feature + 150 XP]
[Penalty: XP Lock for 7 Days + Skill Copy Cool down Extended]
Leo sucked in a breath. "Uncle Max… really? This fast?"
[Host must evolve with the world. Asteria changes rapidly.]
Leo leaned against the wall in his room, his eyes low as his mind raced.
He Didn't know a guardian willing to sign off and had no official club contract yet.
His phone buzzed again, messages floored in but most were junk. Leo checked his inbox again, he saw one message that stood out, it had no flashy font, no emojis or logos Just a plain text with a name and location coordinates.
It read {From: Edward Grayson.}
{Come meet me. You're wasting your talent. I'm not here to sell you dreams. I'm offering a foundation. If you're serious, meet me at 16th Ave, Redway Eastwood Diner. Tomorrow. 11am.}
Leo's brows tightened.
' could it be that it's another fake?' he muttered.
He opened the profile. Their were no links, Just the message and coordinates included.
He didn't reply, but something about it felt different.
He stared at the screen a moment longer, he had 72 hours to prove he belonged, not in the streets or in the shadows but on the pitch, where football legends begin.