June 10, 2010.
Arsenal Colney Training Base, U17 training ground.
"Beep! Beep—!"
Two long whistles sounded, signaling the end of the day's training.
Maël sat on the ground stretching his muscles, when he suddenly noticed the sole of his shoe starting to come unglued again at the front.
"They should be retired."
He felt a pang of heartache. He had just glued them the day before yesterday, and they had split again, meaning they truly couldn't be salvaged anymore.
Looking at the brand new shoes on the feet of the players his age around him, Maël felt a slight envy.
An unfortunate family, he wondered if it was the price he had to pay to pursue his football dream.
He wasn't actually called Maël, nor was he in 2010.
Li Muchen, the social animal from 2024 who deeply loved football, was his original identity.
Who knew that the defiant drink after the national football team's 0-7 crushing defeat to Japan a few days ago would become his swansong in that time and space.
When he woke up again, he was here.
"Maël, how long is your trial period?"
A voice sounded beside him. It was Karl, the French defender on the team. His tone was very dejected, "Mine is only 6 months, and it's about to expire."
"Same."
Maël raised an eyebrow regretfully, feeling a bit helpless, "If we don't get a contract extension before July 1st, you and I will be leaving together."
"Ah, the competition is too fierce."
Karl looked at the group of peers wearing Arsenal jerseys around him and shook his head slightly, "If I go back, I don't know which club will want me."
Go back?
Maël really wanted to say that if he went back, even making a living would be a problem. He might be forced to give up football immediately and find a job to make ends meet.
After all, he didn't have his parents' support. The original owner of this body was born into an unfortunate family in southern France. His ancestors were once Chinese, but later generations settled there.
Sadly, his mother died young in childbirth, and his father died two years later when he fell off a bridge while drunk driving.
His only relative, an uncle, took over custody and raised him normally.
But his uncle and aunt already had three children to raise, and as the original owner's football expenses grew day by day, the family gradually became less supportive of him playing football.
Fortunately, the original owner had some talent and received a 6-month trial invitation from the youth team of the Premier League giants Arsenal half a year ago.
It could be said that this was absolutely his last chance! If he passed, Arsenal would give him a salary sufficient to guarantee his livelihood, allowing him to continue on this path.
Otherwise, he would have to return to France and find a job to make ends meet.
"I'm going to do some extra shooting practice."
Maël stood up, grabbed a few footballs, and dragged his unglued shoes towards the field.
The last twenty-one days! If he still wanted to play football at Arsenal, he'd better make the most of every minute.
"Bang! Bang! Bang—!"
Shot after shot rang out, followed by the crisp sound of the ball hitting the net.
Maël was alone on the field, dribbling, keeping up with his body, swinging his leg and shooting violently, picking up the ball, repeating this process constantly.
His position was winger. His only notable advantage was decent basic skills.
Height 181cm, weight 70kg, average physical strength, average speed and explosiveness, his shooting and passing were also not outstanding. Overall, he was rather mediocre.
With these conditions, he certainly wasn't competitive in the talent-rich Arsenal youth academy.
The possibility of staying here after the trial period was minuscule.
Any amount of extra practice and effort seemed futile.
But Maël didn't want to sit back and wait for death. He always wanted to try again, to fight again.
"Maël!"
After practicing for a while, a shout came from a distance, "Come to my office."
Maël stopped, drenched in sweat, and turned his gaze. He saw a tall, bald middle-aged man standing in the distance, beckoning to him.
It was Hans, the head coach of the Arsenal U17 team.
Maël stopped training and walked towards the head coach's office.
A 'pat-pat' sound came from his feet. It was the sound of his shoes, which had become even more unglued, constantly flapping open and then hitting the bottom of his feet.
Maël hesitated for a moment. He had over 200 euros left, enough to buy a pair of shoes.
But if he didn't stay and had to go back to France, he would have to ask his uncle and aunt for the plane ticket money again. Should he just glue them again and make do for a few days?
Thinking this, he pushed open the door and walked into the U17 head coach's office, where he saw Hans, with his shiny bald head, sitting at his desk.
"What size shoes do you wear?"
Hans's gaze instantly fixed on Maël's feet. "I have a few pairs I don't use; I can lend you a pair for now."
It seemed he had observed this long ago.
"I..."
Maël's heart trembled slightly, and he instinctively wanted to decline, but after glancing at his feet, he pursed his lips. "Around 8.5."
"Perfect."
Hans raised an eyebrow and smiled, then turned to rummage through the shoe rack. "I saw that your shoes have come unglued several times and been glued back together several times.
"I was thinking of getting you a pair of mine to use for now, at least to get you through the trial period.
"I've only worn these shoes when directing training; I don't use them much otherwise. They're still clean, so I hope you don't mind."
Maël felt a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. "Certainly not."
"Here, take them."
Hans quickly produced a bag containing soccer shoes and said with a hearty laugh, "Go try them on the field to see if they fit. I still have things to do."
"Thank you, boss."
Maël took the shoes and thanked him, then turned and walked towards the field. He would definitely remember this kindness, like sending charcoal in the snow.
Returning to the goal area, he put on the shoes and resumed practicing shooting.
The shoes fit well, and there was a special warmth when playing in them.
Maël quickly immersed himself in shooting practice, carefully feeling the feedback from each successful shot and the experience gained from failed ones.
Slowly, he seemed to enter a mysterious state. The world seemed to consist only of the goal in front of him and the soccer ball at his feet.
He forgot fatigue, forgot time, and just practiced mechanically.
Maël desperately wanted to stay on the soccer field. This was the sport he deeply loved, the sport he was willing to devote all his time and energy to.
He had dreamed countless times of waking up in a bustling stadium, standing among famous players, and enjoying the fans' cheers.
He had also fantasized countless times about the exhilarating release and celebratory knee slide after scoring a winning goal for the team.
Suddenly, several lines of dark black text appeared before his eyes.
Skill: Long Shot lv1
Proficiency: (34/100)
Effect: You are slowly feeling the thrill of long-distance shots and are starting to practice diligently, but your basic strength and accuracy are still far off. You yearn for the moment of upgrading and improvement.
Note: lv1 is the lowest, lv5 is the highest! Any athletic ability and physical ability leveled up to lv5 will possess the highest human standard!
Maël suddenly stopped his movements, stunned in place.
Fortunately, having been a frequent internet user in his previous life, he was quite knowledgeable. He quickly tentatively spoke, "System?"
No one responded, so he had to study it carefully himself.
It seemed that as long as he continued to practice specific skills, his proficiency could increase, and proficiency would definitely lead to an upgrade when full?
In other words, as long as he kept grinding, he could keep improving, and his efforts wouldn't be in vain?
"Let's try."
He ran towards the goal area to pick up the ball. This time, his steps were exceptionally powerful, and a few hints of youthful energy burst forth on his face.
This is the first book written by an 18-year-old new author. I hope everyone will support it.