Thiago had never moved without the ball before.
In the favela, football was survival—fast feet, faster thinking. You danced around bodies and debris and broken bottles like you were born with the rhythm. If you didn't move with the ball, you didn't move at all.
But here?
At Palmeiras?
It was all movement without it.
"Drop with the line!""Track your zone!""Stay tighter!""Push! Push! Now reset!"
The coach's commands came like gunshots. Thiago's head spun trying to keep up. By the second week, he was more familiar with the back of the midfielder's jersey than he was with the actual ball.
The system gave him data—percentages, success rates, tactical evaluations—but it didn't change the fact that he felt like a stranger on the pitch.
Not in Brazil.Not in São Paulo.But in football itself.
He spent his nights staring up at the ceiling of the dorm room, listening to the soft breathing of three other boys who all had their own versions of the same dream.
His bunkmate, João, had come from a private academy in Curitiba. He spoke about football like it was math. Possession ratios. Defensive angles. Spatial pressure.
The kid in the top bunk, Leo, was fast—real fast—but all he cared about was beating sprint times and impressing scouts with his speed runs.
Thiago stayed quiet most of the time. He didn't speak about where he came from. He didn't talk about Ronaldinho posters or street tournaments.
Nobody else here had been given a pair of boots from a cousin who died.
They wouldn't understand.
"System," he thought one morning before training. "Status."
Level: 3EXP: 35 / 100Attributes:Pace – 67Dribbling – 64Shooting – 55Passing – 60Physicality – 61Mentality – 52Skill Points: 1
Sub-Attributes:Ball Control – 66Trick Execution – 57Vision – 60Tactical Vision – 51Stamina – 59Focus – 54Composure – 51
Quest In Progress:Earn Your Place (0/5 Tactical Drills Completed at ≥80% Efficiency)Reward: +1 Tactical Vision, +2 Coach Favor
It was quiet. No new messages. No surprises.
The System didn't care how frustrated he was. It only reflected what he gave it.
And lately, Thiago didn't feel like he was giving enough.
On the pitch, the drills were brutal.
Moreira didn't shout often, but he didn't need to. When he spoke, everyone snapped to listen. He stood with his hands behind his back like a commander, eyes scanning everything.
"Ball-watching is for fans, not players," he said during one session.
He stopped a full game to point directly at Thiago.
"You followed your man, but your spacing was off. He dragged you wide and opened the channel behind you."
Thiago's ears burned. "Yes, coach."
"Again. Reset the line."
They ran the drill five more times.
That night, Thiago didn't eat dinner. He sat outside by the pitch and watched the floodlights fade as other players filed back to their rooms.
He hated how much he wanted Moreira's approval.
Caio called later that week.
Thiago stood near the equipment shed with one bar of signal and the wind howling in from across the pitch.
"How's the dream?" Caio asked.
Thiago didn't answer right away.
"It's not what I thought," he said finally.
"Yeah?"
"They've got me playing defense. Fullback. Like... back there, watching everyone else."
"That's not you, mano. You chase, not cover."
"I know. But here, I chase and get told to hold my line."
"You quitting?"
Thiago scoffed. "Hell no."
Caio laughed. "Good. You sounded soft for a second."
Thiago let the silence linger.
"You think I'm wasting time?" he asked.
"No," Caio said firmly. "I think this is the part no one ever posts about. The part where you turn into the thing they can't ignore."
The next day, something shifted.
Maybe it was the conversation with Caio. Maybe it was just fatigue breaking down ego. But Thiago stopped fighting the drills. He stopped trying to be a winger playing fullback. He just... became a fullback.
He started tracking movement tighter. Cutting lanes smarter. Waiting, then striking.
He didn't abandon his style—he just buried it. Kept it tucked behind his eyes.
The System noticed.
System Notification:Tactical Drill: Zonal Marking Simulation – CompletedEfficiency Rating: 84%Progress: Earn Your Place (1/5)+0.5 Tactical Vision
Later that day, he finished a defensive pressing pattern with a high score.
(2/5)
Then a recovery drill.(3/5)
And a defensive overload sim.(4/5)
Every night, he checked the stats like someone checking a wound for signs of healing.
Every morning, he made peace with waking up and being told to defend instead of attack.
Week three.
A friendly scrimmage was scheduled against Palmeiras U17.
It wasn't an official match. But scouts watched. Coaches observed. Players talked.
Thiago was starting left-back.
He was quiet in the locker room, tying his boots with care. His shirt clung to his back. His mind was steady.
"You look ready," João said.
"I'm tired of not being seen," Thiago answered.
First whistle.
The U17s came hard. Bigger bodies. More polished combinations. Their midfield rotated fast, always drawing defenders out, then cutting through the gaps.
Thiago stayed sharp.
He didn't dive in. He didn't overcommit. He tracked runners. Intercepted one pass. Blocked a cross.
"Good shape," Moreira called from the sideline. Just once. That was enough.
In the 22nd minute, the ball broke free on the left. Thiago sprinted for it, pressed by a forward.
He shielded the ball, cut back sharply, and turned with a flick. Just instinct. Just reflex.
Then stopped himself.
He had space.
And the winger ahead of him was open.
He drove forward.
Every step awakened something he'd buried.
He pushed past the first man, then sent a sharp, low cross through the box.
The striker tapped it in.
Goal.
Moreira raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Thiago jogged back to position. Calm.
System Notification:Earn Your Place – Quest Complete+1 Tactical Vision+2 Coach FavorEXP Gained: 25Level Up: 3 → 4Skill Point EarnedNew Passive Unlocked: Controlled Tempo I – Increases efficiency during sustained defensive phases
He sat on the bench at the end of the match, soaked in sweat, legs shaking. They'd drawn 1–1. He'd only had one "flair" moment, but it had mattered.
Moreira walked past, then paused.
"You're starting to get it," he said. Not a compliment. Not a command. Just a truth.
Thiago nodded.
"I'll learn," he said.
Moreira looked at him for a moment, then kept walking.
Thiago didn't open the System that night. He didn't need to.
He already knew.
He was earning his way.
One touch at a time.