Soccer System: All the Skills, One Player!

Just as the man on stage had said, the groups began to be called after a few minutes. A monitor in a fluorescent vest appeared, checking a list in his hands.

"Everyone from Group E, come with me!" the monitor called out.

As part of this group, Lucas followed him. The rest of the group approached, and he soon identified some other contestants.

Next to him stood a tall young man, around 1.85m, with wavy brown hair and an athletic build. He looked about 19, maybe older. The boy glanced at Lucas, and a small, sideways smile appeared on his face before he quickly looked away.

"My name is Daniel. I play as a defender. What about you?" he said casually.

"Lucas. Striker," replied Lucas, who stood around 1.75m.

Lucas knew this kind of interaction could be as much a friendly gesture as a subtle attempt to gauge the competition.

Another player joined the group — a muscular blond young man, about 17 years old and roughly 5'10 (1.78 m). He began to roll his shoulders, as if accustomed to lengthy fitness sessions. His blue eyes scanned the field in a relaxed manner as he adjusted the collar of his shirt.

"What are you looking at?" the boy shouted.

"N-nothing. I was just curious about your position," Lucas stammered.

"Left winger."

Lucas thought of saying, 'Tall like that?' But refrained.

More boys joined them, and then the monitor began to instruct the first stage of the test.

"You will run in intervals of five athletes at a time. The race will be 100 meters, and the time will be recorded. Who wants to start?"

Lucas didn't raise his right hand to volunteer as one of the firsts. He wanted to avoid the pressure of being watched by everyone, but he also didn't want to be last, so he aimed to go second.

Soon, the first five competitors were ready at the starting line, their legs crouched, preparing themselves like sprinters. Lucas watched intently as the signal was given, and they shot across the field. The sound of their feet hitting the grass and their panting breaths filled the air as they ran, their bodies leaning forward in search of every possible second to move ahead.

Lucas mentally mapped out the competitors, trying to gauge his own chances. Of course, before he focused on the people in other groups, he had to worry about those on his own.

The first five finished the race quickly, each breathing heavily, their faces flushed from the effort. The monitor wrote down the times without reacting, maintaining an impassive expression.

Daniel, the defender next to Lucas, watched with his arms crossed, looking indifferent, but his eyes remained on everyone.

"Next group!"

It was Lucas's turn now. He positioned himself on the starting line next to four other boys. One of them, with short blond hair, caught his eye. It wasn't the same boy as before, but there seemed to be a lot of blondes here.

"Ready?" asked the monitor.

Lucas took a deep breath, feeling the tension in his shoulders as he lowered himself into the starting position. His focus narrowed to a straight line in front of him and the burst of strength he would need.

The whistle blew. Lucas threw his body forward with all the strength he had. His feet dug into the grass with each step, and he felt himself moving faster than ever before. The field blurred around him, and although he knew he wasn't the tallest or strongest there, the lightness of his body helped him glide along the ground.

The wind whipped against his face, mixing with the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

When Lucas crossed the finish line, his breathing was rapid, but controlled. He glanced over and saw that the blond boy, named Raphael, had finished just behind him. Lucas had come in first. However, the others weren't far behind.

"Good time," Raphael said, raising his eyebrows as he took a deep breath. Surprisingly, his tone conveyed recognition rather than arrogance. "You run fast."

"Thanks," Lucas replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

The monitor consulted his clipboard, checking the times with his usual impassive expression.

Daniel, the defender with whom Lucas had exchanged a few words earlier, was now ready for his turn. He stretched again, the muscles in his arm visibly tightening under his tanned skin. Daniel appeared calm, even casual, but Lucas sensed the competitiveness beneath the surface. The boy had the physique of a defender who knew how to use his body on the pitch.

After the others finished, it was time for the next test.

"Let's begin the endurance test. Three complete laps around the pitch. Anyone who steps out of line loses points. You'll be monitored the whole way."

Three laps were nothing out of the ordinary, but Lucas knew that accumulated wear and tear would be an important factor. The test wasn't just about speed; it was about who could maintain the pace and endurance under pressure.

"Everyone ready? Start!" the monitor shouted, and the first movements echoed across the field.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Lucas began at a controlled pace. He didn't want to exhaust his energy in the first few laps. He watched Daniel ahead, who had a strong, determined stride, maintaining a steady speed. Next to him, Raphael ran with a lightness that belied his size, his eyes fixed ahead with determination.

In the first third of the race, the groups began to distance themselves. Some of the more impetuous runners were already increasing their speed, while others, like Lucas, maintained a steady pace, and some couldn't keep a good speed and began to slow down.

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Lucas heard the sound of heavy breathing from another competitor just behind him. He turned his head slightly and saw a shorter boy with close-cropped black hair. The boy's name was Rodriguez, as Lucas heard him introducing himself to the other guys.

Gradually, Lucas felt the effects of fatigue beginning to set in, but he controlled his breathing and maintained his focus. When he completed the second lap, he noticed he was side by side with Daniel. The defender had lost a little pace.

"Are you going to keep up this pace?" Daniel asked with a half-smile.

"I'll try," Lucas replied.

The boy, who had earlier identified himself as a left-winger, had moved slightly ahead. He possessed an impressive running style, as if his height and muscles weren't a burden.

As the third lap approached, the real test of endurance began.

"Last lap!" the monitor's voice rang out across the field.

Lucas increased his pace. When he crossed the finish line, his lungs burned, but he managed to control his breath. He came in second, just behind the left-winger. Lucas was exhausted, but satisfied. He bent over slightly, resting his hands on his knees for a moment.

The monitor waited for everyone to finish before starting to take notes. The competitors gathered, some more fatigued than others, as they awaited the next instructions.

Daniel approached Lucas, breathing heavily, and said, "You've got lungs, man. No wonder you came in first." He ran a hand through his damp hair and glanced at the boy who had beaten them — the left-winger.

The monitor then raised his clipboard, drawing everyone's attention once again.

"Congratulations to everyone who completed the endurance test. You showed determination and pace, but the next test will be about something different. We'll assess your flexibility. You'll be divided into pairs to stretch with partners. Remember, this is a test of body control, so don't rush and perform everything accurately."

Lucas looked around, waiting to see who his partner would be. Daniel ended up paired with a taller, thinner boy, while Lucas was paired with Raphael, the left-winger who had won the race. Raphael, with his serious demeanor and imposing posture, didn't seem like the type who would strike up a conversation, but Lucas didn't let that intimidate him and invited him to be his partner.

After a few minutes of paired stretching, the players were instructed to perform a series of static stretches on their own.

As the last flexibility exercise concluded, the monitor began gathering the players together.

"Now, let's start calling those who passed the three stages. First name… Daniel Riber."

The 6'2 (1.88 m)" defender stepped forward, a slight smile on his face. He nodded discreetly to Lucas, as if to say: see you at the next stage.

"Raphael Portiolli."

The names continued to be called, one by one, until finally…

"Lucas Tanaka."

He could hardly believe for a moment that he had overcome the first hurdle. Other names were called after him, like Mark's.

"That's all of them. Brighton's youth team requires these physical performances to be disqualifying because you'll face long, grueling seasons. When you come here, you're just a few steps away from becoming a professional. Anyway, congratulations to those who made it through, and to those who didn't, please keep this feeling and return even stronger at the next trial."