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Chapter 8 - Waiting for the Call

Chapter 8: Waiting for the Call

Lucas Rocha Silva woke to the hum of the favela, the distant beat of samba radios and kids shouting in the alleys below his window. It was a few days after his triumph at the São Paulo FC Academy tryout in 2005 São Paulo, and the memory of Coach Mendes's words, "We'll be in touch," burned in his chest. At 10, with a man's mind from 2024, Lucas didn't see Brazil's 2002 glory as history, it was a target painted on his future, daring him to chase it or be nothing. The Football Prodigy System pulsed in his mind, Neymar's Flair, Edinson Cavani's Finishing, and the newly unlocked B-rank Leadership skill tingling, his Talent Grade: C and potion-boosted stamina ready for what came next. A green glow flared in his vision, the system chiming with a sharp DING!, delivering a quest unprompted:

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[New Legacy Quest: Prepare for the Academy]

Player: Lucas Rocha Silva

System Level: 1 (314/1000 Legacy Points)

Talent Grade: C

Objective: Train diligently and maintain focus in school and chores for one week to prepare for the São Paulo FC academy callback. Complete daily training (30 minutes) and ace a school quiz.

Rewards: 80 Legacy Points, B-rank Stamina Booster (temporary +5% stamina for 3 days)

Penalty for Failure: Skill Stagnation (no skill mastery progress for 7 days)

Assessment: The callback looms. Sharpen your body and mind to seize this chance.

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Lucas's eyes widened, a grin splitting his face. "A new quest? Eighty points and a stamina booster? I'm all in!" he whispered, fists pumping, heart racing like he was back on the Morumbi stadium. The B-rank Stamina Booster sparked excitement, and the Skill Stagnation penalty steeled his focus. He grabbed his scuffed football, ready for school, chores, and training, the Leadership skill's subtle hum urging him to stay sharp.

His mother's voice rang out, "Lucas, come for breakfast, then help Dona Clara with her firewood!" He nodded, plotting: ace a new quiz, deliver firewood, train in the church lot. Carla poked her head in, smirking. "Still dreaming of Morumbi, bro?" Lucas grinned, "Not dreaming, sis. I'm gonna make it." She rolled her eyes, but her smile was soft.

School buzzed with kids kicking bottle caps and desks creaking. In history class, Lucas aced yet another quiz on Brazil's independence, his adult mind nailing dates and names. Ms. Senhora Ana handed it back with a nod. "Good job, Lucas, but stay focused on class, not football." Her words stung, but he stayed calm - his mind was on the mission. At break, he slipped to the church lot, drilling step-overs and heel flicks, his Neymar's Flair making the ball dance. Kids watched, murmuring, as his moves grew sharper. A DING! flashed:

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[Skill Progress: Neymar's Flair]

Skill Mastery: 23%

Effect: Dribbling finesse noticeably improved in tight spaces.

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After school, Lucas jogged to Dona Clara's, a bundle of firewood heavy on his shoulder, the chore doubling as stamina training. The favela thrummed, vendors grilling meat skewers, radios blaring samba. His potion-boosted stamina held firm, legs barely tiring. Tico, the wiry ex-player, leaned against his fruit cart, tossing him a guava. "Heard you killed it at the trial, kid. Don't slack now." Lucas grinned, "No way, Tio. I'm ready for the callback." Tico's nod felt like a spark.

At home, Lucas found his mother washing dishes, her hands moving fast. He took a deep breath, excitement bubbling. "Mamãe, I'm training hard for the callback. I aced a quiz today, and I'm helping Dona Clara. I won't let this chance slip." She turned, eyes softening. "You're growing so fast, Lucas. Just don't forget us when you're a star." He hugged her, firm. "Never, Mamãe. This is for us." She smiled, brushing his hair.

Days passed, Lucas sticking to his quest. He juggled school, dodging Senhora Ana's glares, and trained daily, shooting at a tire stack in the church lot, his Edinson Cavani's Finishing sharpening with each strike. The Leadership skill hummed faintly, pushing him to organize a quick game with João and Diego, calling plays naturally. "João, cut left!" he shouted, passing crisp. The system flashed:

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[Skill Progress: Edinson Cavani's Finishing]

Skill Mastery: 9%

Effect: Shot precision noticeably improved in clutch moments.

Leadership Skill, B-rank skill practiced

Skill Mastery: 2%

Effect: Team coordination slightly enhanced in clutch moments.

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João high-fived him, grinning. "You're running the show, bro!" Lucas laughed, feeling the Leadership skill's potential, but kept his focus on training, not overusing it. Carla watched from a wall, her voice sharp. "You're different since that tryout, Lucas." He shrugged, "Just chasing it, sis."

By week's end, Lucas stood in the dusty church lot, sweat pouring down his face, the ball glued to his feet. He'd crushed another quiz, hauled heavy firewood and water every day, and pushed his body to the limit, his muscles tighter, his moves sharper, every step fueled by fire. The system chimed with a triumphant DING!:

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[Legacy Quest Completed: Prepare for the Academy]

Objective Achieved: Trained diligently, aced a school quiz, and maintained focus in chores for one week.

Rewards: 80 Legacy Points, B-rank Stamina Booster (temporary +5% stamina for 3 days)

Updated Legacy Points: 394/1000

Assessment: Your discipline stands out. The academy callback is coming. Stay sharp.

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Lucas felt a surge, the B-rank Stamina Booster kicking in, his legs buzzing with extra energy. "Three days of this? I'm unstoppable!" he whispered, grinning wide, the 394 Legacy Points fueling his fire. He jogged home, the favela alive with evening bustle, vendors shouting, kids chasing stray balls. His mother was mending a shirt, her smile proud. "You're working hard, Lucas. That callback's coming." He nodded, heart pounding. "I'm ready, Mamãe."

That night, a letter arrived, São Paulo FC's logo on the envelope. Lucas's hands shook as he opened it, his mother and Carla crowding close. "Lucas Rocha Silva," it read, "you're invited to a São Paulo FC academy training session next week. Report to the Morumbi facility." Lucas whooped, spinning in place. "I'm in, Mamãe! I'm in!" His mother hugged him, tears in her eyes. "You did it, meu filho." Carla punched his arm, grinning. "Not bad, we are proud of you, bro."

In his room, the fake 2002 replica shone in the moonlight. Below, the favela pulsed with fading samba and kids' laughter. School waited, and Senhora Ana's sharp eyes too. But with 394 Legacy Points, a Talent Grade of C, and the Leadership skill buzzing inside him, Lucas felt his path ignite. The academy session was coming his chance to prove he belonged, to lift his family, his favela, and the legacy he was ready to build.

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