Chapter 10: Football System... Time Before the Next Trial
Miya's eyelids fluttered, a heavy weight pressing down on them. Every muscle in his body ached with a deep, bone-weary exhaustion, as if he had been torn apart and pieced back together. *Maybe I have,* he thought, the memory of being blown apart still vivid in his mind. He tried to push the thought away, to focus on something mundane, like his morning routine.
*I have to do my morni—*
Suddenly, a voice echoed in his mind, cold and indifferent, devoid of any human warmth:
**[System Routine]**
*
**5 km long**
*Reward: 2 Exp*
*<20 Pushups>*
**Reward: 2 Exp**
*<30 Squats>*
**Rewards: 2 Exp**
*Failure to do so will result in a decrease of 1 point per hour from player's stats.*
Miya's jaw dropped, his breath catching in his throat. *Is this really a system?* He hadn't even tested whether this bizarre interface was real or just a figment of his imagination. His head buzzed with uncertainty. *Maybe I should just try doing the exercises and see what happens.*
Reluctantly, Miya forced himself upright, every movement slow and deliberate, as if he were trying to preserve what little energy he had left. His eyes scanned the room—a cold, dimly lit space filled with rows of beds. Most of the others were still asleep, their chests rising and falling in the steady rhythm of deep slumber. A few beds were empty, their occupants likely already off to the training grounds.
*I hope I'll be the only one there,* Miya thought, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest.
With painstaking care, Miya slid out of bed, moving in complete silence to avoid waking anyone. His heart raced as he crept toward the edge of the room, scanning the walls for any sign of an exit. His fingers brushed against cold, unyielding surfaces, his breath quickening with each step.
He found the toilet first—barely marked by a faint, almost invisible sign. *So it's not just my imagination...* The thought gave him a strange sense of hope. He continued searching until, at last, his hand met a smooth, cool surface with a small symbol etched into it: the door to the training grounds.
Miya hesitated, his hand hovering over the door. *What am I doing?* But before he could second-guess himself, the door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a dark, yawning void beyond.
Miya swallowed hard, his throat dry. There was no turning back now. He stepped into the darkness, his heart pounding in his chest. The door closed behind him with an ominous thud, sealing him in.
**ACTIVATING TRAINING GROUND.**
The voice was metallic, echoing in the vast emptiness around him. In an instant, the darkness was banished by an overwhelming flood of light, so intense that Miya had to shield his eyes. When he finally adjusted, he found himself standing in the middle of an enormous stadium.
*No way...*
The field stretched out before him, impossibly vast, its green turf as pristine as if it had never been touched. The size of it all was staggering, dwarfing even the largest stadiums he had seen on TV. *World Cup stadiums,* he thought, his mind struggling to comprehend the sheer scale of it.
"This is... unreal," Miya whispered to himself, his voice lost in the expanse.
He stood there for a moment, utterly transfixed by the surreal beauty of the place. But then reality crashed back in, and he remembered why he was there. *The exercises...*
Reluctantly, Miya chose the simplest task: pushups. He dropped to the ground, his hands sinking into the soft turf, and began at a quick pace. But by the time he reached ten, his arms trembled, and his breath came in ragged gasps. *I'm so weak...*
He forced himself onward, pushing through the pain, until finally, he collapsed face-first into the grass, his muscles burning.
**[20 pushups ✓]**
**[Reward: 2 Exp]**
**[2/50 Exp]**
Miya let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. *At least that's done.* But the thought of what came next made his stomach churn.
***
The jogging had been grueling, each step feeling like it might be his last. By the time Miya reached the final lap of his squats, sweat poured down his face, his body screaming in protest. Every fiber of his being wanted to quit, to collapse on the ground and never move again.
*These exercises... they're harder than they look,* he thought, his vision blurring. But the chime of the system's voice spurred him on, pushing him to finish.
As he completed the last squat, Miya collapsed onto his back, gasping for air, his heart hammering in his chest. *How do frogs even do this?* he wondered, his mind wandering in delirium. *I wanted to play football, not exercise myself to death.*
**[You haven't even scratched the surface of Football exercises.]**
The notification made him want to laugh—and cry. Instead, he just lay there, too tired to even react.
**[You have accomplished the routine for today.]**
**[First Runner-Up Goal has been accomplished.]**
**[You have received your first skill and added stats.]**
*Skill?* The word snapped Miya back to attention. He barely registered the mention of stats—his mind was fixated on the idea of a new skill.
"Show me the skill," he whispered, his voice weak.
**[Skills]**
**
*The ability to see through other opponents' eyes just by getting into range with them.*
Miya stared at the description, trying to wrap his mind around it. *See through an opponent's eyes...* The concept was so strange, so alien, that he couldn't even begin to comprehend it.
He looked around, half expecting someone else to be there, to share in this bizarre moment. But the field was empty, eerily silent.
*That's enough for now,* Miya decided, pushing himself to his feet. His legs wobbled beneath him, but he managed to stay upright. *I need to freshen up.*
He made his way out of the training ground, the door opening before him like a portal to another world. But instead of the quiet room he had left behind, Miya was greeted by chaos.
The once serene sleeping quarters had transformed into a scene of utter pandemonium. The beds were empty, their sheets tangled and strewn about. A line of men, most of them naked, crowded around the toilet door, shouting and pounding on it with wild abandon.
"What the hell is going on?" Miya muttered, his eyes wide with shock.
"You friggin' fool! Get the hell out of there!" one of the men bellowed, his fists hammering on the door.
"How long are you going to hog the bathroom, you cunt!" another voice shouted, thick with frustration.
"Bullshit!" a third voice chimed in, the word dripping with venom.
Miya hesitated, unsure whether to approach or stay back. But his feet carried him forward, his eyes drawn to the strange spectacle despite his better judgment.
He found Hinawa in the middle of the chaos, the only one who had the decency to wear underwear. Miya was grateful for that small mercy.
"What's going on?" Miya asked, his voice barely audible over the din.
Hinawa turned to him, a look of exasperation on his face. "This is what happens when you cram a bunch of dudes together with only one toilet," he explained. "Mikey went in there and hasn't come out. He's just sitting in there laughing like a maniac."
"I don't want to hear it," Miya interrupted, a sense of unease creeping over him. "Why is everyone so tense about it?"
Hinawa's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as if Miya had just said something truly absurd. "Didn't you hear the announcement? The second trial starts in ten minutes."
Miya's heart skipped a beat. *Ten minutes?*