The System Turned Football's Worst Prospect Into a Monster.

Chapter 96: Volume 1, Chapter 96: Explosive Exit

The evening sun was dropping low over the roofs of Olivais as Rayan sat on the edge of his bed, the quiet of the apartment settling around him. In the stillness, a smoked-black panel expanded across Rayan’s vision, displaying three options from the Intermediate Skill Library.

[Intermediate Skill Library: Selection Required]

[1. Explosive Exit]

[Connects deception or a directional first touch to the first two acceleration steps, improving weight transfer, exit angle and stride launch.]

[2. Disguised Release]

[Develops body shape and passing disguise to conceal the intended release.]

[3. Receiving Under Contact]

[Develops safer receiving mechanics, arm positioning and body angle while physical pressure arrives.]

Rayan studied the options carefully. His gaze lingered on Disguised Release. There was an elegance to it. A technical subtlety that mirrored the way Duarte manipulated space, using subtle shifts of his shoulders to trick defenders into opening lanes.

Then he remembered the feeling of Tiago Leal’s forearm barring his chest. He remembered dropping his shoulder, selling the move, and watching Leal casually step into the path because Rayan took a microsecond too long to explode out of the feint.

Moving the defender meant nothing if the defender recovered before he could take his first stride. The duel with Leal had exposed a raw, structural limitation.

He selected the first card.

[INTERMEDIATE SKILL TOKEN CONSUMED.]

[Skill acquired: Explosive Exit.]

[Proficiency: Novice — 0%.]

[Accelerated technical learning enabled.]

The text receded. Within the smoked-black panel, a wireframe model began demonstrating the movement from several angles, breaking down the kinetic chain step-by-step.

The model slowed at every transition. Its plant foot landed towards the intended route rather than square beneath the body. The hips began turning before the chest finished selling the deception, while the centre of gravity stayed low enough for the first stride to drive forward without crossing over. The ball moved beyond the lead boot, but remained close enough to protect. A longer second stride followed without the torso rising too early, keeping the final touch inside the acceleration lane.

Rayan grabbed a ball from the corner of his room, pulled on his trainers, and slipped down the stairwell into the quiet, concrete courtyard behind the apartment building. The late evening air was cool against his skin.

He set the ball on the smooth concrete and attempted his first rep. He dropped his left shoulder, planted his foot, paused to reset his posture, and then tried to burst forward.

[Transition delayed: 0.24 seconds.]

[Deception and acceleration executed as separate actions.]

He fetched the ball and tried again, attempting to force the sequence faster. This time, his exit touch pushed the ball too far ahead, forcing him to overextend his stride and lose his balance.

[Balance lost. Exit touch distance non-functional.]

Adjusting his touch, he kept his hips low, but as he drove his plant foot down, his hips opened away from his intended route, sending his first acceleration step sideways instead of forward into the open lane.

[Path alignment error: Direct lane compromised.]

On the fourth attempt, he crossed his first stride over his body, nearly tripping over his own feet. On the fifth, he stood upright before accelerating, destroying his momentum. On the sixth, he tried to explode while the ball remained trapped directly beneath his chest, leaving him awkwardly tangled.

’Quality over volume,’ Rayan reminded himself, taking a slow breath through his nose. He stopped trying to rush the end result and focused purely on the immediate transfer of weight. Plant, rotate, drive.

The next attempt showed how little one clean movement meant. His first stride lifted too high, and the ball drifted outside the lane before he could protect it. Rayan stopped, placed two spare trainers on the concrete as markers and watched the wireframe again. The System highlighted the plant foot first, then the hip line, refusing to treat the entire sequence as one solved action.

He rebuilt it in pieces without chasing speed. Two slow repetitions connected. The third broke down when his touch ran long. He reset instead of forcing another sprint, waited for his breathing to settle and tried again. On the next three attempts, the shoulder movement, weight transfer and first stride remained joined. None of them proved he could beat Tiago. There was no defender, no contact and no pressure deciding which lane stayed open. Still, the pause between deception and acceleration had begun to shrink.

On the final block, he varied the starting angle instead of repeating the same route. The first attempt broke down when he planted too square. The second held together from the shoulder drop through the second stride. On the third, the ball stayed within touching distance as he accelerated between the trainers. The movement remained slow and unopposed, but it was no longer two separate actions stitched together by force.

Only after the final repetition stayed within the marked channel did the System respond.

[Correct execution recorded.]

[Explosive Exit: Novice — 8%.]

Rayan stopped, his quads burning from the sudden, sharp braking forces. Knowing better than to push through fatigue on hard concrete, he collected the ball and headed back upstairs.

In the living room, Leonor sat at the small kitchen table surrounded by swatches of denim fabric, a pair of sharp tailoring shears, and an old jacket she was altering. Her design notebook lay open beside her, covered in neat colour sketches and metallic fastener ideas.

"How are your legs?" she asked without looking up, carefully pinning a seam along the collar.

"Heavy," Rayan said, pouring himself a glass of water from the jug.

"I’m changing the shoulders on this old jacket," she said. "The silver press-studs might make it look less boring. I could put a few finished pieces online later and see whether anyone likes them."

"Looks sharp," Rayan said genuinely. "The press-studs work."

His phone buzzed on the counter. It was a text from Bia, accompanied by an image attachment.

Bia: Finished the façade render for my public-space portfolio. Thoughts on the timber screens?

Rayan opened the render, examining the warm wood screens set against the concrete structure.

Rayan: They make the concrete look less cold. Are Daniela and Mari checking it on Friday?

Bia: Friday afternoon. I still need to fix the shaded seating area. How was training?

Rayan: Hard. I found something specific to work on.

Before he could lock his phone, an official notification from Sporting CP’s team management portal popped up at the top of the screen. It was the daily schedule and group roster distribution for the upcoming pre-season match blocks.

Rayan tapped the notification.

For Wednesday’s fixture list, the squad was split into two separate matchday delegations.

The first notice listed the closed-door, untelevised morning match against SC Farense at the main training complex. Rayan scanned down the list. His name was there, alongside several squad rotation players and academy call-ups. As well as Gyoker who was returning from injury.

A second notice followed for the evening match: Sporting’s public friendly against Genk at the Estádio do Algarve.

Rayan read through the Genk roster. Duarte’s name was listed clearly among the wide attackers for the evening showcase.

Rayan put his phone face down on the table, the reality crystal clear: Duarte had been handed the main stage, while Rayan had been assigned to the quiet, closed doors of the complex.