The morning before the second match of the Regional Cup smelled like sweat, wet grass, and heat.
Not sun. Not fire.
Heat.
The kind that clung to skin and soaked through shirts before breakfast. The kind that made boots feel heavier and nerves run thinner.
Thiago stood alone near the warm-up cone grid, juggling the ball with short, tight touches. No flair. No tricks. Just control. Rhythm. Focus.
He'd woken before the alarm. Couldn't sleep.
His phone buzzed once in his locker. A short message from Caio:
"Saw the goal. My guy's cooking. Just keep eating."
He smiled faintly. Pocketed it.
Today wouldn't be like the last match.
Today, they weren't the hunters anymore.
They were the target.
Their opponents were Atlético Goianiense U17s.
And from the first minute, it was obvious: they came to break rhythm, not play it.
Shoulder barges off the ball.
Studs up on 50–50s.
Jersey tugs. Delayed throw-ins. Long hold-ups on free kicks.
It wasn't dirty football. Not exactly.
It was just cynical. Heavy. Ugly.
Thiago didn't mind. Not in principle.
But the pitch was narrow. The lines barely visible in some corners. The ref looked like he'd already been bought lunch by someone wearing red.
And the left-back?
He hadn't stopped talking since warm-ups.
"You think I don't know you? Fancy boy. City boy. Rocinha or not—you're just another one they'll forget."
Thiago didn't answer.
He just smiled.
Then called for the ball.
First half was rough.
Thiago couldn't breathe for more than two seconds without someone clattering into his back. Every time he touched the ball, a second defender arrived within a heartbeat.
At one point, after shielding near the corner flag, the fullback stepped across him and clipped his heel hard enough to draw blood.
No whistle.
No call.
Just grass in his mouth and a chuckle from the sideline.
System Notification:Physical Interference Logged – No Card IssuedMinor Trauma Detected – Left AnklePassive Active: Pain Resistance IPerformance Penalty – Negated
He stood up slowly, brushing dirt off his chest.
And whispered to himself, "Let's dance then."
The game stayed locked at 0–0 through the 35th.
Palmeiras tried to go through the middle but got clogged up every time. João was boxed in. The striker barely touched the ball.
Thiago dropped deeper and deeper to collect. At one point, he was practically on the halfway line, pulling strings instead of receiving them.
Coach Paulo shouted from the sideline. "Too deep! Find the line!"
Thiago nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.
He needed a moment.
A window.
A flash.
And then, it came.
Minute 42.
Throw-in on the left. João to Thiago.
The pass was slightly behind him, bouncing.
Perfect.
Thiago let it come across his body, flicked it behind his standing leg, and cut forward in one fluid motion. His fullback followed—too tight, too eager.
Thiago dipped low, then launched a diagonal run inside. João overlapped wide. The defender tracked the wrong man.
Open lane.
One-two.
Thiago took it on the return.
Three defenders closed.
He didn't panic.
He waited.
Then poked it to the striker—just a toe-poke pass through traffic.
The forward didn't think. Just hit it first time.
Net.
1–0.
System Notification:Assist Logged+6 EXPActive Quest Unlocked – Lead the LineObjective: Deliver 2 Goal Contributions or Earn Highest Match RatingReward: +2 Vision, +1 Mentality, Passive Unlock PotentialTime Limit: This Match OnlyCurrent Rating: 7.4
Halftime.
No smiles.
Coach Paulo's voice was sharp.
"They're playing to injure. Keep your heads. One more and they'll fold."
He looked at Thiago. "You've got them chasing shadows now. Don't stop moving. You draw them out, we finish this."
Thiago nodded, chest still rising and falling with effort.
He wasn't tired.
He was just getting started.
Second half was war.
Within five minutes, João got elbowed in the ribs and had to be subbed off.
The right-back took a knee to the thigh and limped through the rest of the match.
But Thiago?
He kept moving.
At 58 minutes, he picked up the ball on the edge of the box, dropped a shoulder, and pulled three defenders toward him—then threaded a pass through a microscopic gap.
Shot.
Saved.
Rebound.
Goal.
Not his. But because of him.
Second assist.
System Notification:Quest Progress – Lead the Line: 2/2+2 Vision+1 MentalityPotential Passive Unlocked – Evaluation Pending Post-MatchMatch Rating: 7.9EXP: +10
The referee finally started showing cards around the 70th, but it was too late to control the tempo.
Thiago was getting targeted every possession now.
Pulls. Dives. Kicks.
At one point, a center-back clipped him so hard from behind that he was knocked flat, skidding across the chalk line.
He lay there for a moment, chest heaving.
Then he heard it.
"Get up, baller."
Caio's voice.
Not in real life. Just in his head.
Thiago stood.
Wiped his mouth.
And smiled.
In the 83rd, he got his chance.
Palmeiras broke down the right, fast, fluid. Cross floated high.
Thiago wasn't supposed to be in the box.
But he'd drifted there without realizing.
Instinct.
He tracked the cross, leapt early, and met it with his forehead like a hammer.
Ball screamed down and in.
3–0.
Match sealed.
System Notification:Goal LoggedMatch Rating: 8.4Quest Complete – Lead the LineReward AppliedPassive Unlocked: Engine Pulse I(Stamina drain reduced after assist or goal for 5 minutes)+1 Coach FavorEXP Gained: +15Level: 8 → 9Skill Point Earned
Full-time.
Thiago walked off the pitch, jersey soaked, legs sore, back scratched and bruised.
The Vitória coach offered a handshake.
Thiago took it.
Then jogged straight to Paulo.
"Next?"
Paulo raised an eyebrow. "We'll see."
Then he handed him a sealed envelope.
Thiago opened it.
Invitation to the quarterfinal round.
Back-to-back games in three days.
Teams left: Grêmio, São Paulo, Cruzeiro, Palmeiras.
It was narrowing.
Fast.
That night, Thiago stood in the shower long after the water turned cold.
His body was wrecked.
But his mind?
Sharp.
When he finally returned to his bunk, he opened the System.
Level: 9EXP: 20 / 350Attributes:Pace – 70Dribbling – 71Shooting – 59Passing – 63Physicality – 64Mentality – 55
Passives:– Muscle Memory I– Pain Resistance I– Instinctive Flair I– Balanced Vision I– Momentum Surge I– Poise Under Fire I– Engine Pulse I
Skill Points: 4Active Quest: None
He saved his points.
Closed the interface.
And smiled.
Because now it was real.
They weren't chasing the Cup anymore.
They were chasing him.