Relentless Pursuit

Westphalia University of Applied Sciences had taken a strategic risk that could pay off. By steering clear of traditional football powerhouses like the University of Munich, they had set themselves up for a potentially favorable path to the quarterfinals—provided they could maintain their current form. The gamble was ambitious, but it reflected the university's growing confidence in its football team.

This decision, however, came with a price. The school's football team now faced an intensified training regimen. With just two weeks separating the end of the divisional games from the start of the national round of 16, the pressure was palpable. Unlike professional teams, the players had to balance their studies, personal lives, and football commitments, with only their weekends free for respite. But all that changed the day after the divisional game, when Coach Norbert Elgert called a meeting to deliver what he called "bad news": from now on, the team would train for an hour every afternoon, from Friday through Sunday.

The reaction from the players was immediate. Grumbles and muttered complaints filled the room, a chorus of discontent echoing the sentiments of those who felt their personal time slipping away. Samuel, always one to express his feelings, pouted but kept his protests quiet, having learned from past reprimands. Franck, meanwhile, was taken aback—not so much by the extra training, but by what it signified. Coach Elgert clearly believed in the team's potential. The fact that he was pushing them harder meant he saw something in them worth cultivating, even though the school hadn't reached the national finals in five years, and none of the current players had ever competed at that level.

Franck quickly processed what this meant for him personally. His weekend plans with Lena would be less flexible, but he found himself unbothered. Success, he knew, required sacrifices, and he was confident that Lena, supportive as ever, would understand.

As Coach Elgert surveyed the room, the weight of his expectations seemed to hang in the air. His voice, firm and unyielding, cut through the players' murmurs. "I know what you're all thinking," he began, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. "You're cursing me for taking up your precious time—time you'd rather spend with friends, on dates, or doing whatever else you do. I get it. But let's be honest here: who among you doesn't want to win the national championship? Who doesn't dream of catching the eye of a professional scout? If you're just here to play football as a hobby, go ahead, raise your hand."

Silence filled the room as not a single hand went up. Whether out of respect for the coach, a fear of being singled out, or genuine ambition, every player kept their hands firmly at their sides.

Coach Elgert's expression softened slightly, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. "Good," he said, nodding. "It seems you all love football and have big dreams."

Franck noticed the slight pause in the coach's speech, sensing that the praise was about to take a sharp turn.

And it did. Coach Elgert's face hardened, his voice growing more intense. "But dreaming isn't enough. I've never seen a professional player who's as lazy as some of you. Without dedication, without putting in the hard work, you don't stand a chance against those young talents who've been training in elite academies since they could walk. Do you really think you're more talented than Cristiano Ronaldo? When he got his first professional paycheck at Manchester United, he didn't rush out to party. No, he hired a personal trainer to build his strength. If you don't change your attitude and start working like professionals, your dreams will remain just that—dreams."

The coach's frustration was palpable, his belief in the players tempered by the reality of their current mindset. He knew that most of them wouldn't break into top-tier youth programs like Schalke 04, but with hard work, some could carve out respectable careers in Germany's second division or even higher. He had particularly high hopes for Franck, Samuel, and Alain—players who, despite lacking formal professional training, showed flashes of the kind of football intelligence and awareness that scouts looked for. Their quick, intuitive counterattacks, especially the connection between Franck and Samuel, hinted at a deeper understanding of the game, even if they didn't fully grasp it themselves.

Perhaps it was the weight of the coach's words, or perhaps it was a collective determination not to disappoint him, but the players approached the next training session with a renewed sense of purpose. The usual banter and lightheartedness were replaced by a steely focus, every player pushing themselves to prove that they were ready for the challenges ahead.

Franck, in particular, stood out during the drills. His crisp passes, sharp movements, and tactical awareness drew approving nods from Coach Elgert. But even as he impressed, Franck knew he wasn't giving his all—he was holding back, saving his best for when it truly mattered. The thought of what he could achieve when he fully unleashed his potential excited him, and for the first time in a while, he found himself looking forward to the weekend training sessions, eager to push his limits and see just how far he could go.

The hour of training flew by, and most of the players eagerly grabbed their bags and headed off the field, anxious to escape the grind. But Franck chose to stay behind for some extra practice, and he wasn't alone—Alain, at the coach's request, reluctantly joined him.

Samuel lingered near the edge of the field, waiting for his friends. The three were inseparable, always arriving and leaving together, a tight-knit trio both on and off the pitch.

Coach Elgert, who was just about to leave, noticed Franck still on the field. Surprised, he called out, "Franck, aren't you heading home?"

Franck turned, honesty in his voice as he replied, "Coach, I want to practice my free kicks."

The system he relied on had set specific tasks for him, but it offered no guidance—only the end result mattered. Given that Franck had never seriously practiced free kicks before, he figured this was the best place to start.

The coach, Alain, and Samuel each reacted differently to Franck's request. Coach Elgert, his curiosity piqued, asked, "Why the sudden interest in free kicks, Franck?"

Franck couldn't exactly mention the system, so he improvised. "Coach, I want to score goals. You might not know this, but I started out as a forward. I've always had a striker's instinct. But in my current position, the only chances I get are from corner kicks, and those are rare. The teams we'll face next are strong, and as you know, set pieces can be crucial. You saw in the last game that our current free-kick taker isn't very reliable. I want to contribute more to the team than just defending."

Samuel, overhearing Franck's explanation, clenched his fists in frustration. If he wasn't sure that Franck could outplay him, he might have confronted him right then and there.

Sensing Samuel's tension, Franck shot him a reassuring wink, signaling that he wasn't trying to undermine him—he simply needed to justify his request to the coach.

Coach Elgert pondered for a moment before responding. "Normally, I'd say a defender focusing on scoring goals isn't prioritizing properly, and I'd refuse. But I'm willing to let you try. I want to see what you're capable of."

And so, Franck began his special free-kick practice, with Alain reluctantly stepping in as the goalkeeper. Samuel, meanwhile, sat on the sidelines, watching Franck's efforts with a mix of emotions. He wasn't sure whether he wanted Franck to succeed or fail; after all, Franck's success could very well threaten his position as the team's main free-kick taker.

Coach Elgert, knowing that Franck was new to this aspect of the game, kept the drills simple. He had Franck take basic shots from the edge of the penalty area to get a feel for the technique.

The coach didn't expect miracles. He would have been content if Franck could score two or three out of ten attempts in a one-on-one situation with the goalkeeper. After all, every position on the pitch demanded a unique skill set, much like different departments in a university.

But the initial results were disappointing. Franck's first attempt was a powerful strike that completely missed the target, sailing wide of the goalposts. Samuel couldn't help but chuckle under his breath, but Franck remained undeterred. He tried two more times, managing to control the ball's height but still posing no real threat to Alain, who caught the shots with ease.

Coach Elgert called a halt to the practice and approached Franck, who was visibly frustrated. Samuel walked over, smirking. "Bro, don't push yourself too hard. If defenders could score with every shot, they wouldn't be defenders anymore. Just stick to what you're good at—why make things difficult for yourself?"

Franck shot him a glare. "Don't get too comfortable. Next time, I'll make you practice your defending."

Samuel grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. "I'm not as ambitious as you. I'm happy just doing my job and scoring when I can."

Franck didn't respond, but his determined expression said it all—he had higher aspirations, and he wasn't about to let anyone discourage him.

Coach Elgert, noting the exchange, called Samuel back to the sidelines and focused on Franck. "Franck, you're not going to learn anything by just trying to blast the ball into the net. Power alone won't get you past a wall of defenders. If you want to master free kicks, you need to start by improving your accuracy. That's where you should focus."

Franck nodded, absorbing the advice. He knew the coach was right, but the pressure of the system's time limit weighed heavily on him. He had no choice but to accelerate his progress. Mastering any skill took time, but Franck's situation demanded urgency.

If Coach Elgert had known that Franck was aiming to be match-ready in just half a month, he would have immediately advised against it, warning that such rapid improvement was unrealistic, even with the most intensive professional training.

But Franck was driven by more than just the system—he was determined to improve, to prove himself, even if it meant sacrificing his rest. He began sneaking onto the school's football field at night, using the dim light from the nearby basketball court to guide his practice. It wasn't ideal, but it was enough for him to see the goalposts.

Under these conditions, Franck pushed himself through extra practice sessions, knowing that the system's deadline loomed large. He had to show results in the next game, so the road ahead was bound to be grueling.

Throughout the night, Franck worked tirelessly, taking shots from various positions around the penalty area arc. As a central defender, he knew his chances to score inside the box would be limited, so he focused on mastering set pieces from outside.

Finally, after countless attempts, Franck began to consistently hit the top corners of the goal. Satisfied but not complacent, he wiped the sweat from his brow and muttered to himself, "One hundred shots...not bad. But it's still too early to get confident."

When he returned to the dormitory, Franck quickly showered and collapsed into bed. Samuel and Alain, curious about what he had been up to, considered asking him, but seeing how exhausted he was, they decided to let it go—at least for now.

With only a week remaining until the round of 16 elimination match, the team entered the final stages of tactical preparation. Training focused heavily on group drills, with Coach Elgert carefully evaluating each player's progress during the intense sessions.

The intensity of the training wasn't overwhelming, but Franck excelled, even earning a chance to play closer to the midfield in a more defensive role. His group, which made up the core of the starting eleven, quickly dominated the substitutes. But the real surprise came just before Coach Elgert was about to blow the whistle to end the session. Franck intercepted a ball outside the opponent's penalty area, set himself, and unleashed a shot that soared straight into the top corner of the net!

The entire team froze in shock. Samuel and Alain, the first to recover, exchanged looks of disbelief. Just days ago, Franck's shooting had been rudimentary at best, but now he was producing strikes that wouldn't look out of place in a professional match.

"Is this magic, or did he just get lucky?" they wondered, unable to ignore the fact that Franck had been returning to the dormitory utterly drained each night.

It was clear to them now—they had stumbled upon Franck's secret.

Coach Elgert, pleased with the team's mental state, was particularly impressed with Franck's rapid improvement. Even with all his experience, the coach couldn't help but marvel at the speed of Franck's development.

But as Franck listened to the coach's praise, he could only offer a bittersweet smile and shake his head.

What choice did he have? If it were up to him, he would have been content playing his role as a central defender. But this so-called "progress," which others might envy, was something he had been forced into by the relentless demands of the Star Player Evolution Engine.