'Host status update: Stamina: F+ > E-'
Cleiton woke up at 5 a.m., ready to tackle his daily mission once again. Even though he was tired from the previous day's training and challenges, he got up with determination, dressed, and went out to complete his walking and running regimen. The requirements remained the same: 20 km of walking, 8 km of running, 50 push-ups, and 100 sit-ups. But this time, the reward was just 5 system points. It seemed worth it, though Cleiton still wasn't sure what these points were for. Yet he figured they could come in handy later on, so he decided to collect them just in case.
After finishing the first part of his training, Cleiton rushed back home to get ready for school. From 7 a.m. to noon, he focused on his classes, but his mind kept drifting back to his training and ways he could improve. As soon as the school bell rang, he left without delay and headed straight to his job as a construction worker's assistant.
From 1 p.m. to 4 p.m., Cleiton moved bricks, lifted bags of cement, and did the hard work he was all too familiar with. The hours on the construction site were exhausting, but he tried to stay positive, knowing that this effort was helping him build strength for the challenges on the field.
When the clock struck 4 p.m., Cleiton put down the trowel he'd been using to mix cement, washed his face, and prepared for what he considered the most important part of his day: training with Vitória's youth team at 5 p.m. However, that day's training promised to be different. Rumors of potential changes to the team lineup had stirred up anticipation, and Cleiton knew Coach Cerqueira was finally about to announce who would stay and who would be cut.
As the players warmed up, Cleiton's stomach churned with nervousness. He could hardly breathe, wondering if this would be the end of his short journey with the team.
"Am I going to get cut?"
he wondered, clenching his fists anxiously. Coach Cerqueira called the players in for a pre-practice meeting and began to speak.
"Everyone, I have some important news. The main team needs reinforcements due to a high number of injuries, so a few of you will be moving up to the professional level to help fill out their roster. That means we'll have a few openings here on the youth team," Cerqueira announced.
Cleiton held his breath, already trying to guess which names would be called. The coach continued:
"This time, five players will be promoted: Gustavo and João Victor, our midfielders; Jorge Roxa, left-back; Pedro, our starting center-back; and Caio Júnior, our 16-year-old striker, who's been shining in recent games."
Aside from Júnior, the 16-year-old rising star forward, the rest of the promoted players were all 17.
Cleiton watched silently, feeling a mix of emotions. He felt a slight envy of the players who were moving up, especially Pedro, who played the same position and had often intimidated Cleiton with jokes about his lack of physical strength. Now, Pedro was heading to the main team while Cleiton stayed behind, leaving a bitter taste in Cleiton's mouth. Yet, he knew he was too young to be promoted even if he were 100 times better than he was now.
Still, seeing that Pedro and the others would be leaving the youth team brought Cleiton a genuine sense of relief. He understood that if it weren't for this reshuffle, he might have been cut since the team was overcrowded. Deep down, he was grateful for the indirect chance to keep proving himself.
After the coach wrapped up the announcement, Cleiton returned to the field, determined to give his best. He knew he still had a long way to go, but that first step meant everything. If he kept working hard and continued evolving with the system's help, maybe one day he'd also be among those chosen to represent Vitória on the main team.
The promoted players were congratulated with applause and handshakes from everyone on the youth field. Each of them was beaming with happiness, especially Pedro, who, as he passed by Cleiton, gave him a subtle nudge on the shoulder and let out a mocking laugh.
"You'll need a few more years at the gym to hold the defense, won't you, Little Cleiton?" Pedro taunted as he walked off with the others toward the locker room.
Cleiton swallowed the insult, keeping his head high, silently promising himself that he'd one day reach their level. Once the promoted players left the field, training continued.
Mondays were always the most challenging, reserved for physical conditioning under the supervision of Roberval, one of Coach Cerqueira's assistants.
Roberval was a mountain of muscle, standing 2,06 meters tall (6'9") with an intimidating presence. His reputation as a "sadistic demon" during physical training was well-earned; he pushed the players to their limits with a nearly sinister grin of satisfaction. For him, nobody was allowed to give less than their all, and Cleiton was determined to be no exception.
Time passed quickly as the players were run through sets of exercises like sit-ups, burpees, jumping jacks, squats, and various push-up variations.
During a short break in that grueling session, Nathan and Cássio, the only two friends Cleiton had on the team, came over. They were exhausted, breathing heavily, trying to recover before the workout resumed.
"Man, that Roberval is a beast! He doesn't cut anyone any slack," Nathan complained, still catching his breath.
"I can't even feel my legs, my arms are jelly, and my abs are screaming for help," Cássio said, laughing nervously.
Cleiton listened to his friends but stayed quiet, focused on his goal. Even though every muscle was begging for rest, he was determined to give it his all. More than ever, he felt the need to prove his worth, especially with so many players moving up to the main team. His body was at its limit, but his mind was steady.
While the players rested, the coaches gathered to discuss the team's performance. Coach Cerqueira asked Assistant Coach Roberval what he thought of the session so far.
"For the most part, it's the same as last week," Roberval replied. "But that scrawny kid, Cleiton, seems to be keeping up a bit better today. He's probably feeling the pressure of having his spot threatened. Though, I'll admit, he does seem to have put on a bit of muscle—even if it's almost imperceptible."
Cerqueira nodded thoughtfully.
"Good to know, Roberval. I'll keep an eye on that kid."
The training session finally ended, and Cleiton, exhausted, dragged himself back home. When he arrived, he had dinner with his father, exchanging just a few words. Then, even though every muscle ached, he made sure to finish the last of his push-ups and sit-ups needed to complete his daily mission before finally collapsing onto his bed.
Quickly, another eight days passed, with Cleiton maintaining his relentless routine: waking up at five in the morning to complete his daily mission, attending school, heading to work in the early afternoon, and finishing the day with training in Vitória's youth team. On the night of the eighth day—exactly ten days since he'd awakened the system—Cleiton was surprised by a new message:
---
'Congratulations, Host! You've completed the system's secret mission.'
Requirements: Complete 10 consecutive days of the system's daily mission.
Rewards: Access to the Virtual Training Center.
Note: The first step away from failure, though a million steps remain to reach success. One word: improve!
---
Startled by the system's unexpected "generosity," Cleiton didn't waste any time claiming his reward. He immediately tried to access the so-called Virtual Training Center. After a few unsuccessful attempts, an impatient Cleiton decided to ask the system directly why his reward wasn't working. The answer came with the system's usual sarcasm:
'To access the Virtual Training Center, the host must be in a relaxed position, preferably lying down, and ensure they won't be interrupted during the session. This should be obvious—the system might need to reassess the host's intelligence level.'
Excited, Cleiton rushed to his room, locked the door, and threw himself onto his bed. The moment he wished to access the Virtual Training Center, he found himself mentally transported to a virtual world. Large blue neon words grabbed his attention:
**WOULD YOU LIKE TO START THE TRAINING CENTER?**
**YES NO**
Without hesitation, Cleiton clicked "YES," eager and curious to discover what awaited him. The system then began to send a sequence of messages:
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**'INITIALIZING TRAINING CENTER'**
**'SYNCHRONIZING HOST'S CURRENT STATE'**
**'SYNCHRONIZING PERMISSIONS WITH MAIN SYSTEM'**
**'WELCOME TO THE TRAINING CENTER'**
**'YOU HAVE 1 FREE TRAINING OPPORTUNITY. WOULD YOU LIKE TO USE IT?'**
**YES NO**
---
Cleiton didn't waste a second and clicked "YES." Suddenly, the setting changed. Before him appeared a futsal court with two holographic teams: one blue and one red. Then, instructions started flowing directly into his mind. The Training Center seemed to want him to join one of the teams and play as a fixed defender.
The system explained that futsal was chosen over traditional football for its higher intensity and faster reaction time requirements. With a smaller court and fewer players, matches tended to move at a quicker pace, requiring everyone's involvement, including the goalkeeper, in coordinating offensive plays. In futsal, a player in the fixed defender role not only has the task of defending and intercepting plays but also must support the team offensively with quick and precise passes.
Cleiton, already growing impatient with so many explanations, rushed to join the red team, ready to start playing.