Dawit stood near the entrance of the training ground, staring at the grass still damp with morning dew. His body ached, but it was a welcome pain, the kind that meant he had earned something. His mind was sharp, already replaying the moments from the last match, analyzing what went well and what needed to improve.
Coach Jeroen arrived, nodding briefly as he walked past. He wasn't the kind of coach who wasted words on pleasantries, but Dawit had come to understand that even the smallest gesture from him carried meaning.
"You recovered well?" Jeroen asked casually, stopping beside him.
Dawit gave a short nod. "Yes."
Jeroen studied him, then pointed toward the field. "Good. Because today won't be easy."
Dawit didn't flinch. He was ready.
The session was brutal.
Every drill, every run, every pass had purpose. The players were sharpening their skills, preparing for the next match, but for Dawit, this was more than just training.
It was a statement.
Jeroen had challenged him to prove himself through consistency, and Dawit refused to let his first good performance be dismissed as luck.
Sweat dripped from his forehead as he worked through possession drills. His teammates pressed aggressively, forcing him to think faster, react quicker.
Midway through the session, Jeroen stopped the drill.
"You hesitated twice there," he said to Dawit. "A second too slow, and you lose the ball in a real game."
Dawit breathed heavily, absorbing the words. He wasn't offended. He needed this.
"I'll fix it," he said simply.
Jeroen gave a slight nod. "See that you do."
And the drill resumed.
The session ended hours later, players sprawled across the field, catching their breath. Dawit sat near the sideline, stretching his legs, replaying the coach's words in his head.
He had improved but he wasn't there yet.
Amanuel's voice returned, soft but firm.
"Skill progression detected. Tactical awareness increasing. Weekly consistency milestone: Incomplete."
Dawit exhaled, tightening the laces on his cleats.
This wasn't over.
It was only just beginning.
The exhaustion from training settled deep in Dawit's muscles as he walked toward the locker room. His movements were slower, deliberate, but inside, he felt sharper than ever.
He had felt the gaps in his game the hesitation, the moments where his instincts faltered for just a second too long. Coach Jeroen had seen them too. And while Dawit had improved since his first match, he wasn't there yet.
Football wasn't just about being talented once. It was about proving it, over and over again.
The locker room was buzzing with chatter as players changed and grabbed their bags. Some spoke about the weekend, others about upcoming games. Dawit listened but remained focused.
He wasn't here to blend in.
He was here to stand out.
Later that evening, Dawit sat in his small room, staring at the training plan displayed before him. Amanuel had compiled everything his completed drills, his match stats, his progress in tactical awareness.
But there was something else.
"New opportunity detected. Weekly scout visit confirmed. Players will be monitored for potential promotion."
Dawit leaned forward, pulse quickening.
A scout.
This wasn't just another training week. Someone would be watching. Someone with power to shape his future.
He exhaled, tightening his fists.
This wasn't just about impressing Jeroen anymore.
It was about making sure the right eyes saw him.
And when the time came, he would make sure there was no doubt about his place in the game.
Dawit's pulse quickened as he stared at the words in his training plan.
A scout visit.
It was the kind of opportunity that could change everything. For most players, it was a moment they had dreamed about for years. For Dawit, it was a chance to correct history.
He leaned forward, reviewing the schedule carefully. The scout would be observing during training sessions and matches. That meant every movement mattered. Every pass, every sprint, every decision on the ball would be analyzed under a microscope.
This wasn't just about impressing Jeroen anymore.
It was about making sure he couldn't be ignored.
The next morning, Dawit arrived at the field before sunrise, his muscles still aching from the previous session. He had no intention of slowing down—if anything, the scout visit had pushed him into another level of focus.
His first touch drills were sharper. His dribbling more precise. He studied his movement, analyzing where he hesitated, where he could improve.
By the time the rest of the squad arrived, he was already deep into his own training.
Coach Jeroen walked past him on the way to the dugout, pausing briefly. "Early start again?"
Dawit nodded, catching his breath. "Need to be ready."
Jeroen didn't smile, but there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "We'll see if it pays off."
That was the closest thing to praise he'd ever get from the man and that was enough.
The intensity of training ramped up. Jeroen pushed the squad harder than usual, preparing for their next match while knowing that someone important would be watching.
"Small mistakes become big problems," Jeroen said as he paced the edge of the field. "The difference between a good player and a great player is awareness. Quick thinking. No hesitation."
His gaze flickered toward Dawit.
Dawit knew exactly what the coach was doing—testing him. Seeing if the pressure would break him.
It wouldn't.
During possession drills, Dawit focused on speed.
Quick passes. Sharp movements. No hesitation.
When he misread a pass, he corrected instantly. When he lost the ball, he recovered aggressively.
The scout arrived quietly during the second half of training, standing near the dugout, watching with narrowed eyes.
Jeroen noticed him but didn't acknowledge his presence.
No distractions.
Dawit's lungs burned as he pressed forward in drills, sweat dripping from his forehead. He was locked in.
The scout stood near the dugout, expression unreadable, his sharp gaze scanning the field.
He didn't carry a clipboard or make notes. He just watched. Every movement, every pass, every hesitation.
Dawit knew this was his moment.
He couldn't afford to let it slip.
During the pressing drill, the opposition forced Alexandria '66's midfield into tight spaces. Dawit found himself boxed in, a defender closing fast.
In his past life, he would have hesitated rushed a pass, panicked, lost possession.
Not this time.
He felt the defender's approach before seeing it, angled his body accordingly, and cut the ball backward with a sharp touch. A split second adjustment opened space for a pass.
His teammate received the ball cleanly. Attack reset.
+5 XP – Tactical Decision Success.
Jeroen glanced at the scout, but the man remained silent, arms crossed. Watching.
Dawit couldn't think about him.
He just had to play his game.
The final drill was a small-sided match. High intensity. Fast transitions. Exactly the kind of scenario where mistakes could expose weaknesses or highlight greatness.
Jeroen made the teams carefully. The best midfielders split. No easy wins.
The scout leaned forward slightly.
This was it.
Dawit locked in.
His movement was clean. His passes precise. He controlled the tempo when in possession, adapted quickly when pressed.
Then the moment came.
An opponent misread the defensive line, leaving one gap too many.
Dawit saw it immediately.
Instead of waiting, he forced the play forward, driving toward the box.
One defender came to challenge.
A quick body feint. A sharp cut.
The defender bit just enough space to strike.
Dawit hit the ball with conviction.
The net rippled.
Silence for a second. Then cheers from his teammates.
Jeroen remained composed, but Dawit caught it the slight nod. The approval hidden beneath his usual indifference.
The scout smiled.
For the first time all session, he made a note.
+15 XP – Match Performance.
Dawit barely heard it.
He just knew he had done enough.
For today.
Because tomorrow, the grind would continue.