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The early March sun peeked through Leicester's city center as Ethan Cole jogged past the Clock Tower on March 2, 2012, dodging shoppers and street vendors. A few fans in Leicester City gear spotted him, yelling, "Yo, Cole! Smash Coventry!" Ethan grinned, giving a quick nod, his legs pumping steady. He was hyped for tomorrow's match, but his head was a mess—Mia Hart's text from last night, *Wanna grab drinks at the pub, champ? 😉*, had him smiling, while the anonymous creep's live camera feed with a laser dot on his chest kept him up half the night. The Football System pinged in his mind, low-key: **Jogging like a local hero? Don't let Coventry's defense trip you up, man.**
Ethan's life was a whirlwind. Jorge Mendes was pushing hard on his contract—Leicester wanted him locked in, but Manchester United, Liverpool, and Chelsea were throwing big money his way. The anonymous threat, now targeting his academy kids and Mr. Harris, was getting too real. His goal to win the Championship Golden Boot and title, with a Ronaldo template upgrade as the prize, was still on track, but the stalker's games were messing with his focus. Tonight, he'd chill with Mia, but tomorrow, it was game time at the Ricoh Arena.
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At The King's Arms, a cozy Leicester pub, Ethan slid into a booth across from Mia. The place was lively—darts flying, pints clinking, a jukebox playing Oasis. Mia, in a leather jacket and jeans, her pink hair tied back, sipped a gin and tonic, smirking. "You're blowing up, champ," she said, nudging his knee under the table. "Saw your Reading goals on Insta. Savage." Ethan leaned back, his Leicester City hoodie loose, feeling relaxed for the first time in days. "Just doing my thing, you know? You're my good luck charm 😎." Mia laughed, rolling her eyes but blushing a bit. "Better kill it against Coventry, then. I'm coming to watch 📺." They clinked glasses, the vibe easy but electric. Later, she texted: *Kick ass tomorrow, Cole! Pub rematch soon? 🍻💕*. Ethan replied: *Bet, #1 😏*. The system stayed quiet, letting the moment breathe.
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The next day, Ethan stood in the Ricoh Arena's tunnel, Coventry's stadium, the crowd's roar hitting like a wave. The system chimed in, all business:
**Football System Update**
- **Template**: SSS-Class Striker Template (Cristiano Ronaldo, Sporting Lisbon 2002–03 Stage)
- Speed: 103/100 (Crazy fast.)
- Dribbling: 105/100 (Silky moves.)
- Finishing: 104/100 (Deadly shot.)
- Vision: 100/100 (Sees everything.)
- Stamina: 103/100 (Keeps going forever.)
- Assimilation Progress: 99.9% (You're basically Ronaldo's clone.)
- **Task**: Score in the Coventry match to keep Premier League clubs buzzing.
- **Reward**: Unlock Lisbon Flair V milestone (Dribbling +3).
- **Advisory**: Use a skill card and shop item to carve up Coventry's defense. Mess up, and you're their highlight reel.
- **Penalty**: Lose stats only if you lose the match or slack in training.
- **Points**: 86 (Plenty to play with.)
Ethan tugged his number 17 jersey, activating the **Messi's Dribble Card**: **Messi's Dribble active: Slalom through defenders with Leo's magic (One play, make it slick.)** He also grabbed a **Speed Enhancer** for 20 points: **Speed Enhancer active: Speed +10 for Coventry (Zoom past 'em.)** The Ronaldo template's Lisbon stage was perfect for Coventry's scrappy setup, with a solid win expected per the 2011–12 schedule. The system kept it chill.
Leicester's season was a grind, with Ethan's Reading brace making him a global name. Scouts from United, Liverpool, and Chelsea were in the stands, pens ready. The anonymous threat's camera feed and Mendes' contract talks (£80,000/week Leicester vs. £130,000/week Premier League) made this match a pressure cooker.
The tunnel was loud, Leicester's blue kits sharp next to Coventry's sky blue. Danny Drinkwater bumped Ethan's shoulder. "Coventry's desperate, Cole. Rip 'em, and those scouts'll lose it." Ethan nodded, the laser dot on Mr. Harris's back fueling him.
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The match kicked off under the Ricoh's lights, Coventry fighting like their lives depended on it. Ethan's speed and vision opened gaps. In the 15th minute, he used **Messi's Dribble**, weaving through three defenders like they were cones, then crossing low for Nugent to tap in. The crowd groaned, Leicester fans chanting. The system pinged: **Assist! Match Impact +30%. Fan Appeal +20 (Messi would grin. Card's gone.)**
Coventry equalized in the 27th minute, a deflected shot trickling past Schmeichel. The system nudged: **1–1. Don't let up, or you're in trouble.** Ethan kept pushing. In the 42nd minute, Drinkwater floated a cross. Ethan launched into a bicycle kick, his body twisting mid-air, the ball rocketing into the top corner. The stadium exploded, Leicester fans going wild.
**Goal! Lisbon Flair V Progress: 50%. Match Impact +40% (Scouts are scribbling.)**
The second half was brutal, Coventry's defense clamping down. Ethan's stamina and speed enhancer kept him sharp. In the 80th minute, he broke free, rounded the keeper, and squared for Gallagher to smash home, sealing a 3–1 win. The stands roared, Leicester fans chanting his name.
**Assist! Task Complete: Score in Coventry match. Reward: Lisbon Flair V Unlocked. Dribbling: 108/100 (You're untouchable.)**
The 3–1 win, unique with a bicycle kick and two assists, fit the goal difference for a weaker team like Coventry, Ethan's performance earning him man of the match. A staffer muttered: "Mendes says United's at £55 million. Liverpool and Chelsea are matching. Meeting tonight." The system quipped: **£55 million? Don't buy a private island yet, man.**
The system updated: **Points Earned: 75 (25 for win, 25 for goal, 25 for two assists). New Task: Score in the next match to keep Premier League interest. Reward: Lisbon Precision VI milestone (Finishing +3). Side Quest: Score a long-range goal this season (Reward: One-Use Skill Card – Beckham's Free Kick II).**
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After the match, Mendes met Ethan in a quiet Leicester bar, his eyes intense but calm. "Leicester's offering £90,000 a week, a community center named after you," he said, sipping a whiskey. "United's at £140,000, Liverpool and Chelsea promising ad deals worth millions. Coventry was your statement, Ethan. One more match, and we close this." Ethan's gut twisted—stay with his city or chase the big leagues? The camera feed's laser dot lingered in his head, making the choice heavier.
Back at his flat, Ethan crashed on the couch, scrolling Instagram. His followers hit 170,000, fans freaking out over his Coventry bicycle kick. He posted a clip, captioned: *Coventry done, let's keep rolling 🦁⚽ #LeicesterLad*. Comments blew up: *You're a beast, Cole! 🌟🔥* Ethan replied: *Appreciate you all! Let's go 😏💪*. Mia commented: *Champ's on fire! Pub was fun, next round's on me? 🍻😉*. He shot back: *Deal, #1 😎💕*. He swiped to Hollywood gossip: "Rihanna's New Single Drops 🎵🔥" and "Ryan Gosling's Crazy Heart Filming Rumors 🎬👀." The system stayed chill.
The Premier League hype had haters. A teammate sent a tweet: *Cole's killing it, but can he hack Old Trafford? #LCFC*. Then, Ethan's phone buzzed with another anonymous message: *Coventry was a fluke, Cole. You're finished.* Attached was a photo of him jogging by the Clock Tower yesterday, a red laser dot on his neck. Ethan's hands shook, the threat hitting too close.
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The next morning, Ethan hit the park, the system's new drill pushing his Ronaldo template:
**Lisbon Precision VI Drill: Nail 350 long-range shots with 95% accuracy. Reward: Finishing +3 (Ronaldo was a sniper.)**
He smashed shots past local kids, his focus razor-sharp, the photo of the laser dot driving him. By the 340th shot, he was dialed in, the system pinging: **Drill Progress: 95% (You're lethal.)**
At training, Drinkwater warned: "Bristol City's next, Cole. They're physical, and they'll try to rattle you. Scouts are coming, and Mendes was asking about your contract." The system nudged: **Bristol's a scrap. Win, or you're fading.**
Ethan scrolled Instagram after training, liking a fan's post: *Cole to destroy Bristol! 🦁⚽* He replied: *You got it 😎💥*. But the laser dot photo stuck with him, a line he couldn't ignore.
As Ethan walked home through Leicester's quiet streets, a black van idled nearby, its windows tinted. His phone buzzed with a new anonymous message: *Bristol's your last stand, Cole.* Attached was a live audio clip—Ethan's voice from training today, laughing with Gallagher, recorded from a hidden mic planted somewhere close. His pulse spiked, the streetlights dimming as fear and anger surged, with Mendes' contract deadline, Premier League clubs circling, and a stalker who knew his every move. Ethan's fire burned, but the hunter was steps ahead, and the game was now life or death.
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