Ethan Cole sprinted down the wing of Leicester City's youth training pitch, the roar of a small but fervent crowd—parents, scouts, and local fans—echoing in his ears. It was July 17, 2011, the opening match of Leicester's under-21 season against Derby County's youth team, and Ethan's first chance to prove his contract wasn't a fluke. The Football System glowed in his mind, a steady guide rather than a leash:
**Football System: S-Class Striker Template (Thierry Henry, 2003 Arsenal Peak)**
- Speed: 93/100 (Highbury Sprint 75%)
- Finishing: 90/100 (Va-Va-Voom Finishing Unlocked)
- Dribbling: 90/100 (Arsenal's Elegance Unlocked)
- Assimilation Progress: 55%
- Task: Earn a senior team training spot by shining in youth matches.
- Reward: Unlock new SSS-Class Striker Template (Cristiano Ronaldo, 2011 Real Madrid Peak).
- Advisory: Dominate with goals and flair to impress coaches and scouts.
Ethan's heart pounded, not just from the sprint but from the weight of the moment. Leicester City, under Sven-Göran Eriksson, was building a squad to chase promotion in the 2011–12 Championship season, with signings like Kasper Schmeichel and David Nugent fueling buzz. Ethan's youth contract was a stepping stone, but his trial goals had already sparked whispers among the staff, a butterfly effect pushing Leicester to invest more in young talent. If he dominated today, he could accelerate their rise, maybe even set the stage for their 2015–16 miracle years early. He was rewriting football history, one blistering run at a time.
The system's advisory lingered: *Dominate with goals and flair.* Ethan glanced at the stands, spotting a scout in a Leicester jacket, clipboard in hand. Then he saw Jake Turner, warming up with Derby's youth team, his eyes locked on Ethan like a predator. Jake, stuck in Leicester's under-18s, had wrangled a guest spot with Derby to prove himself. The rivalry was personal now, and Ethan wasn't about to let his old tormentor steal the spotlight.
The whistle blew, and the match exploded into life. Ethan, wearing Leicester's blue number 9, moved like a panther, the Henry template making his every touch electric. In the 8th minute, a teammate, Tom—a lanky midfielder with a knack for through balls—lofted a pass over Derby's defense. Ethan outran their center-back, his Highbury Sprint milestone kicking in, and controlled the ball with a silky touch. The keeper rushed out, but Ethan's shot—a curling beauty—found the top corner.
**Goal! Va-Va-Voom Finishing Progress: 85%. Assimilation Progress: 57%.**
The crowd roared, a chant of "Cole! Cole!" rising from the stands. Ethan slid on his knees, mimicking Henry's iconic celebration, his grin wide. The scout scribbled furiously, and Ethan felt the butterfly effect ripple—his goal wasn't just a score; it was a signal to Leicester's coaches that their youth team could produce stars.
Jake answered in the 15th minute, bullying past Leicester's defender to rifle a low shot past the keeper. He celebrated with a taunting point at Ethan, his smirk screaming, *I'm still here.* The system chimed: **Advisory: Neutralize rival's impact with superior performance.**
Ethan's blood boiled. He wasn't the same kid Jake had mocked in his first life. He doubled down, pressing Derby's backline with relentless energy. In the 25th minute, he received a pass in the box, faked out two defenders with Arsenal's Elegance, and fired a volley that clipped the crossbar. The crowd gasped, and Ethan cursed under his breath. The system offered: **Advisory: Refine shot accuracy in training to avoid near misses.**
Halftime came with the score 1–1, and Coach Steve, Leicester's youth manager, lit into the team. "Cole, you're a bloody spark, but finish those chances! Senior team's watching." Ethan nodded, his mind on the system's task: *Earn a senior team training spot.* Jake's goal stung, but Ethan was the name on everyone's lips.
The second half was a war. Derby's defense tightened, but Ethan's pace and dribbling carved them open. In the 60th minute, he latched onto a long ball, outran Jake—who tried to foul him—and faced the keeper one-on-one. The Henry template surged, and Ethan chipped the ball over the keeper's dive, the net rippling.
**Goal! Task Progress: 50%. Assimilation Progress: 60%.**
The stands erupted, and Ethan pumped his fist, staring Jake down. The scout was on his feet, and whispers of "Premier League potential" floated through the crowd. Ethan's performance was shifting Leicester's youth strategy, drawing more scouts to their matches, a butterfly effect that could unearth talents like Riyad Mahrez sooner.
Jake, desperate to match him, took a wild shot in the 75th minute, but it sailed wide. Ethan seized the moment, intercepting a loose pass and sprinting coast-to-coast. He weaved through three defenders, his dribbling a blur of Henry's elegance, and slotted the ball past the keeper for a hat-trick.
**Hat-Trick! Task Progress: 80%. Va-Va-Voom Finishing Progress: 90%.**
The final whistle blew, Leicester winning 3–1. Ethan was mobbed by teammates, the crowd chanting his name. Jake slunk off, his head low, but Ethan caught his glare—pure venom. The system chimed: **Advisory: Maintain dominance in future matches to secure senior team spot.**
Coach Steve clapped Ethan's shoulder. "That's the stuff, Cole. Senior team's training next week. You're in." Ethan's heart soared. The system glowed: **Task Progress: 90%. Secure senior team spot to complete.**
---
That night, Ethan headed to Mia Hart's flat for a private hangout, her text from earlier burning in his mind: *Just you and me tonight. Let's celebrate your hat-trick.* The system stayed quiet, no warnings about distractions, giving Ethan room to breathe. Mia was a firecracker, a glimpse of the glamorous life he craved—parties, fame, maybe even dates with stars like Taylor Swift or Shakira when he hit the big leagues.
Mia greeted him at the door, her pink hair loose, her crop top and jeans showing off her curves. "My hat-trick hero," she purred, pulling him into a hug that lingered a beat too long. Her flat was cozy, fairy lights casting a warm glow, music playing softly. She handed him a coke, her fingers brushing his. "You're blowing up on Insta," she said, showing him her phone—clips of his goals already viral in Willow Creek.
Ethan grinned, the Henry template amplifying his charm. "Good. Gotta give the fans something to talk about."
Mia led him to the couch, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You're giving *me* plenty to talk about," she said, scooting closer. The air crackled as she leaned in, her lips meeting his in a slow, burning kiss. Ethan's hands found her waist, her body pressing against his, the heat building fast. She tugged him closer, her fingers sliding under his shirt, tracing his chest. The kiss deepened, hungry and electric, her breath hitching as she straddled his lap, their bodies tangled in a rhythm that matched the pulse of the music.
Ethan's mind spun, the thrill of the hat-trick mixing with Mia's fire. Her lips moved to his neck, sending shivers down his spine, and he pulled her closer, his hands roaming her back. It was intoxicating, a taste of the playboy life he'd dreamed of in his first life—glamour, passion, the world at his feet. But he kept it reined in, savoring the heat without crossing into territory that could derail his focus.
Mia pulled back, her cheeks flushed, a playful smirk on her lips. "You're gonna be a heartbreaker, Ethan Cole," she whispered, her voice husky. "But I'm keeping you for now."
Ethan laughed, brushing a strand of pink hair from her face. "You sure you can handle me?"
"Try me," she teased, kissing him again, lighter this time. The system chimed softly: **Advisory: Balance passion with discipline to maintain peak performance.** No penalty, just a nudge, and Ethan appreciated the system's leniency.
---
The next morning, Ethan was back at the park, the system's new drill pushing his limits:
**Dynamic Dribbling Drill: Navigate 500 ball touches through moving obstacles with 90% accuracy. Reward: Dribbling +3.**
He set up cones and enlisted a few local kids to act as moving defenders, weaving through them with Arsenal's Elegance. The Henry template made his movements hypnotic, the ball glued to his foot. By the 400th touch, he was untouchable, the system updating:
**Drill Progress: 80%. Dribbling: 92/100. Assimilation Progress: 62%.**
At Leicester's youth training, Ethan's hat-trick had made him a star. Danny Drinkwater, the midfielder, tossed him a ball. "Keep that up, Cole, and you'll be starting with Nugent soon." Ethan grinned, but Jake's absence didn't go unnoticed—he'd been dropped back to the under-18s after Derby's loss, his guest stint a failure. Ethan felt a twinge of satisfaction, but the system warned: **Advisory: Stay vigilant; rivals may regroup.**
That evening, Ethan got a call from Walsh, the scout. "Cole, you're training with the seniors tomorrow. Eriksson wants to see you up close. Don't cock it up."
Ethan's heart raced. The senior team—David Nugent, Paul Gallagher, maybe even Schmeichel. His hat-trick had shifted Leicester's gaze, making their youth program a hotbed for scouts. The butterfly effect was growing, and Ethan was at its center.
As he lay in bed, Mia's text lit up his phone: *Senior team already? You're unstoppable. Dinner tomorrow, just us?* Ethan smiled, typing back: *You're on.*
The system glowed: **Task Progress: 95%. One senior training session to complete. New SSS-Class Template (Cristiano Ronaldo) awaits.**
Ethan closed his eyes, visions of packed stadiums, screaming fans, and a tycoon's empire flooding his mind. Jake was down but not out, Mia was a spark of glamour, and Leicester was his launchpad. But the senior team was a new battlefield, and the world was watching. Would he seize the moment, or would Jake claw his way back? One thing was certain: Ethan Cole was rewriting the game, and this was just the beginning.