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**Athens, Greece, November 14, 2025**
The Panathenaic Stadium shimmered under Athens' twilight, its ancient marble tiers alive with 70,000 fans, a coliseum reborn for modern glory. Tonight's UEFA U-21 Championship qualifier—Spain U-21 versus England U-21—was a clash of titans, a battle to secure a tournament berth. Lin Feng stood in the Spain U-21 huddle, his red-and-yellow kit aglow, the crest a beacon on his olive skin. His hazel eyes, a blend of his Chinese-Spanish heritage, burned with unyielding resolve. At 18, he was no echo of his past life's despair. His La Liga hat-trick at Camp Nou and U-21 debut in Lisbon had ignited Europe, a prodigy now leading Spain's youth to glory.
The [**Supreme Football System**] was his hidden edge, a secret no one—teammates, coaches, or fans—could fathom. Its permanent [**Causality Powers**] and skills, forged through years of toil, transformed his D-Grade talent into a legend's spark. With 26,800 [**System Points**] after humbling Lukas Müller, Lin Feng was poised to conquer Athens. Tonight, the [**System**] would weave its magic subtly, his feats a dance of skill, not a divine blaze.
His rival was England's U-21 winger, Ethan "The Storm" Carter, a 20-year-old with jet-black hair and emerald eyes, known for his blistering pace and audacious dribbles. Ethan's Manchester City contract made him a Premier League darling, but his brashness—dismissing continental players as "overrated" on social media—painted a target on him. In Lin Feng's past life, Ethan was untouchable. Tonight, Lin Feng would tame The Storm.
The [**System**] flickered in his mind:
[**Mission: Lead Spain U-21 to Victory in a UEFA Qualifier.**]
[**Reward: 5,000 system points, +2 Influence Points.**]
[**Hidden Mission: Outshine Ethan Carter and Secure a Tournament Berth.**]
[**Reward: 3,200 system points, +2 Skill Points.**]
Lin Feng's grin was a shard of starlight. Outshine Ethan and lock Spain's qualification? He'd make Athens' ancient stones chant his name, keeping the [**System**] veiled. His brilliance would sear as talent, not a cheat.
The Spain U-21 squad huddled, their faces etched with fire. Diego Ruiz, the lanky midfielder, nudged Lin Feng. "Ready to storm the coliseum, Feng?" His grin was a beacon, distinct from Lisbon's camaraderie. Lin Feng's [**Charisma Aura**] flared, his voice electric. "Let's carve our legend here, Diego." The team roared, their spirits a furnace, a new bond kindled.
Coach Javier Sánchez, his gaze sharp as a blade, fixed Lin Feng with intensity. "You're our engine, attacking midfielder. England's fast—Carter's their dagger. Neutralize him."
Lin Feng's reply was iron, yet fresh. "I'll clip his wings, Coach." Sánchez nodded, sensing a titan's rise. In his past life, Lin Feng was nothing. Now, he was Spain's spear.
The teams took the field, the stadium's roar a primal hymn. England's white kits gleamed, their players radiating Premier League swagger. Ethan Carter danced on the wing, his emerald eyes locking onto Lin Feng with a smirk. "Hope you brought an umbrella, Spaniard," he called, his voice dripping with swagger.
Lin Feng's eyes sparkled, his retort cool but biting. "I prefer to dance in the storm, Ethan." The crowd buzzed, sensing a duel, as the whistle pierced the dusk.
The match ignited, a symphony of speed and steel. England's counterattacks were lethal, Ethan's runs slicing through Spain's flanks. Lin Feng flowed like a river, his [**Steel Body**] shrugging off tackles, his [**Eagle Vision**] piercing their press.
In the 7th minute, Spain surged. A defender passed, and Lin Feng controlled with [**Maradona's D10S Touch**], the ball a whisper on his boot. Ethan charged, but Lin Feng dodged with [**Cruyff's Phantom Turn**], his body a specter, leaving the winger grasping air. He activated [**Perfect Pass**], threading a 25-yard ball to Diego, whose shot forced a save. The crowd gasped, Ethan's smirk twitching.
England struck, Ethan's cross finding a striker for a clinical finish, 1–0. He celebrated with a slide, taunting Spain's fans. Lin Feng dropped back, his [**Beckenbauer's Iron Wall**] instincts thwarting a second goal, intercepting a pass with calm precision. Diego clapped his back, their synergy alive. "You're a shield, Feng!"
In the 13th minute, Lin Feng roared to life. Spain regained possession, and he used [**Pirlo's Deep Playmaker**] to dictate the tempo, baiting England's press. Ethan marked him, but Lin Feng spun with [**Ronaldinho's Elastico**], then entered the 18-yard box. The [**Causality Power**] flared—[*All shots within the 18-yard box score*]. His shot, fueled by [**Thunder Strike**], was a meteor, ripping past the keeper.
1–1.
The Spanish fans erupted, Diego mobbing Lin Feng. Ethan's face darkened, his storm disrupted. Lin Feng jogged back, his expression serene, the [**System**]'s magic unseen. To the crowd, he was a genius; to himself, a strategist.
England rallied, Ethan weaving a counter, his shot grazing the bar. Lin Feng's heart burned, the [**Hidden Mission**] alight—outshine Ethan. One goal wasn't enough; he needed to dominate.
In the 22nd minute, Lin Feng struck again. Spain won a free kick 35 yards out. He stepped up, using [**Ronaldo's Knuckleball**], the ball swerving with venom, dipping past the keeper's dive to shake the net.
2–1.
The stadium quaked, scouts from Paris and Milan scribbling furiously. Ethan slammed the ground, his swagger cracked. Lin Feng's grin was subtle, Diego cheering. The [**System**] chimed:
[*Ding!*]
[**Hidden Mission Progress: Outshine Ethan Carter (50% Complete).**]
The first half ended, Spain leading. In the dugout, Sánchez was ablaze. "Feng, you're a firestorm! Keep burning!" Diego tossed him a water bottle, grinning. "Carter's drowning out there!" Lin Feng's reply was light, distinct. "Let's keep him underwater, amigo." Their banter sparked warmth, a new hue of friendship.
The second half was a crucible. England pushed, Ethan driving their wings with desperate pace, his crosses testing Spain's keeper. Lin Feng was a conductor, his [**Steel Body**] defying fouls, his [**Iniesta's Tiki-Taka**] linking passes with [**Perfect Pass**] precision. In the 58th minute, he intercepted a pass with [**Beckenbauer's Iron Wall**], sprinting forward. Ethan fouled him, earning a yellow, but Lin Feng rose, unshaken.
Spain won a corner in the 67th minute. Diego's delivery soared, and Lin Feng leaped, using [**Maradona's D10S Touch**] to position himself. Ethan marked him, but Lin Feng twisted with [**Messi's La Croqueta**], entering the box. The [**Causality Power**] ignited, his volley a dagger that nestled in the net.
3–1.
The Panathenaic roared, Spanish fans chanting "Lin Feng! Lin Feng!" Ethan's face was ash, his storm extinguished. Sánchez leaped, scouts nodding. The [**System**] sang:
[*Ding!*]
[**Mission Complete: Lead Spain U-21 to Victory in a UEFA Qualifier.**]
[**Reward: 5,000 system points, +2 Influence Points.**]
[**Total System Points: 31,800**]
The match ended 3–2, a late English goal irrelevant. Spain secured their UEFA U-21 Championship berth, and Lin Feng was named Man of the Match, his volley replayed on screens. "For Spain and our dreams," he said into a microphone, his [**Charisma Aura**] radiant. Ethan left the pitch, humbled, another rival felled.
[*Ding!*]
[**Hidden Mission Complete: Outshine Ethan Carter and Secure a Tournament Berth.**]
[**Reward: 3,200 system points, +2 Skill Points.**]
[**Total System Points: 35,000**]
Lin Feng opened the [**System Shop**], its glow a private beacon. He typed "skills":
- [**Neymar's Rainbow Flick (+25% Trickery)**]: 700 points.
- [**Pelé's Samba Flair (+30% Dribbling Creativity)**]: 3,500 points.
He chose [**Pelé's Samba Flair**], spending 3,500 points. A surge of creativity flooded his feet, his dribbles now a carnival of flair. With 31,500 points, he was ready for the U-21 tournament.
---
That evening, Lin Feng joined Diego and the U-21 squad at an Athens taverna, its whitewashed walls aglow with candlelight. The air hummed with bouzouki music, the scent of souvlaki and ouzo wafting. Diego handed him a skewer, grinning. "You made England quake, Feng. Feast like a god!" Lin Feng laughed, his reply warm. "Only if you match my pace next time, Diego." Their bond was vibrant, a tapestry of shared triumphs.
Lin Feng savored the grilled meat, chatting with teammates about Athens' myths. A local girl offered him a laurel crown, joking he was "Apollo reborn." He wore it playfully, his [**Charisma Aura**] earning cheers. In his past life, he'd shunned such joy, too bitter. Now, Athens' pulse was his heartbeat.
His phone buzzed—a call from Sofia. "My mijo, leading Spain to victory?" her voice glowed, softer than Elena's ambition. "Valencia's buzzing—you've got us atop La Liga, too."
Lin Feng leaned back, the Acropolis visible through the taverna's window. "It's all for you, Mamá. How's Papá holding up with the fame?" His tone was tender, not a grand oath, their bond a quiet anchor.
"He's bragging to every neighbor," Sofia laughed. "Come home soon, mi amor." He promised, his heart full, their dynamic warm and evolving.
Back in Valencia, Lin Feng's butterfly effect rippled. His goals and leadership had propelled Valencia CF to La Liga's summit, their attacking flair unmatched, though he never boasted of it. The league table, glimpsed on a taverna TV, told the tale quietly.
**La Liga Table (November 14, 2025, after 12 Matchdays)**:
| Rank | Team | Played | Won | Drawn | Lost | Points |
|------|----------------|--------|-----|-------|------|--------|
| 1 | Valencia CF | 12 | 9 | 2 | 1 | 29 |
| 2 | Real Madrid | 12 | 8 | 3 | 1 | 27 |
| 3 | FC Barcelona | 12 | 7 | 3 | 2 | 24 |
| 4 | Atlético Madrid| 12 | 6 | 4 | 2 | 22 |
| 5 | Sevilla FC | 12 | 6 | 2 | 4 | 20 |
Lin Feng's heart swelled, but he kept his focus on the U-21 journey, Valencia's glory a silent backdrop.
As he lay in his hotel, the [**System**] flickered:
[**Hidden Mission Unlocked: Score a Brace in a UEFA U-21 Championship Match.**]
[**Reward: 5,500 system points, +2 Prestige Points.**].