Days passed.
Luca had fully adapted to the rhythm of the first team.
Training, extra work, video analysis, bonding with teammates.
His schedule was full and structured.
The club’s promotional photos and short interview video were released on the official website and social media.
In the photos, Luca wore the new number sixty-six jersey.
His expression was calm.
The camera captured a young man with sharp features and dark, flowing hair.
A quiet intensity.
The images spread quickly among Napoli fans, earning him a small following of admirers.
At training, his teammates teased him.
“Luca, seriously, ever think about modeling?
Why play football when you could just coast on that face?” Insigne grinned.
“Yeah, not doing an Armani campaign is a waste.”
“Don’t forget us when you’re a supermodel!”
Luca usually just smiled.
“I still think nutmegging a defender is more satisfying than walking a runway.”
Laughter and friendly insults followed.
His chemistry with Jorginho grew daily.
They stayed after training to practice passing, discuss movement, and debate tactics.
Their similar reading of the game made them fast friends.
Through Jorginho, Luca naturally integrated into the South American group.
His Italian academy roots kept him close to Insigne and the Italian core.
He became one of the few players comfortable in both camps.
His popularity soared.
One day, during a one-on-one drill with Jorginho, a chime rang in Luca’s mind.
[ding!
‘Jorginho’s Defensive Reading’ fusion progress increased.
Current fusion rate: 80%.]
[Attribute update: Defense: 70 → 82 (Serie A standard).]
A deep intuition flowed through Luca’s defensive awareness.
His reading of opponent intent, passing lanes, and dribbling direction had transformed.
Beating him with a simple feint or raw pace was no longer easy.
A whole new level.
Sarri, meanwhile, treated Luca like a new toy.
He tested him everywhere.
“Luca, try the right wing.”
“Luca, false nine today.
Drop and link.”
“Luca, swap with Allan.
Play defensive midfield.”
After several experiments, Sarri was stunned.
The kid was absurd.
Aside from striker, where physicality was a genuine issue, Luca could play almost any attacking or midfield position credibly.
Even at defensive midfield and center-back, his anticipation and distribution caught Sarri’s eye.
One day after training, Sarri stared at his tactics board, a bold idea forming.
“Luca at center-back?
Like Guardiola’s later Barcelona.
A deep-lying pivot.
Use his vision and long passing to launch attacks directly…”
The thought lasted seconds before he dismissed it.
“No.
A waste of his attacking talent and late runs.
He belongs higher up, creating danger.”
He scribbled more pages in his notebook dedicated to Luca’s usage, then looked at the dense annotations and shook his head.
A pleasant headache.
“This kid…
a treasure.
How do I maximize him?”
Serie A’s opening round approached.
Based on Luca’s training form and versatility, Sarri believed he deserved a start.
But reason told him starting a seventeen-year-old with zero professional experience in the opener was too risky.
Better to ease him in from the bench.
Protect and unleash his talent carefully.
Sarri made his decision.
At training, Luca was in a one-on-one drill with Jorginho.
Luca stepped over the ball, trying to deceive.
Jorginho stayed patient, holding his position, analyzing aloud.
“Your feints are realistic.
Good rhythm.
But against someone who doesn’t bite, you can only pass back or force it.
Low success rate.”
Luca grinned.
“What if…
I do this?”
The stepovers stopped.
His shoulder dropped right.
His right foot pushed the ball forward.
The whole sequence was lightning.
Explosive acceleration at its peak.
Jorginho bit.
Just half a step slow.
Luca was past him.
Jorginho was surprised.
Luca’s top speed was not elite, but the burst combined with the feint was enough to trouble most defenders.
But Jorginho was Jorginho.
Beaten, he still used his positional sense to turn, body-check Luca legally, and poke the ball away.
“Nice move.
Great suddenness.” Jorginho caught his breath.
“But at the end, you couldn’t hold me off.
Your ball protection in duels needs work.
Technique and vision alone won’t survive Italian defending.”
Luca shrugged.
His body was still developing.
Matching adults like Allan and Jorginho in physical duels was a losing battle.
Muscle and strength training.
A long road.
Training ended.
Players dispersed.
“Luca, dinner at my place?
My wife made Brazilian barbecue.” Jorginho invited.
“Thanks, João.
But I have extra work with the fitness coach tonight.” Luca declined apologetically.
“You’re relentless…” Jorginho shook his head.
Per the fitness coach’s plan, Luca had targeted strength, conditioning, and coordination work after regular training.
Coordination was crucial.
It determined balance and technical execution under speed and contact.
A stable base was everything.
It helped dribbling, duels, even defensive positioning.
After intense conditioning, coordination drills also aided recovery.
At the gym, Fabio, the fitness coach, was waiting.
A muscular, cheerful Italian in his forties.
“Hey, our hardworking mister is back!” Fabio teased.
“Thanks to you, I’m getting home later and later.
My wife thinks I’m having an affair.”
Luca looked embarrassed.
“Sorry, Fabio.
We can finish quickly…”
“Ha!
Just kidding, Luca!
You’re too serious.
No girl will like that!”
Fabio clapped his shoulder.
“Relax.
Sarri approved generous overtime for me.
My wife is happier than I am when she sees the paycheck!
Let’s go!”
Luca: “…”
What a terrible Italian uncle.
For the next hour, Luca worked under Fabio’s guidance.
Core strength.
Planks.
Russian twists.
Hanging leg raises.
Lower body work.
Coordination drills with agility ladders, bosu balls, and mini-hurdles.
Sweat soaked his shirt.
Muscles burned.
He pushed through.
Every rep after exhaustion was energy stored for the future.
Time flew.
August 21, 2016.
The eve of the Serie A season opener.
After the afternoon session, Sarri gathered the squad to announce the matchday roster for the away trip to newly promoted Pescara.
The locker room quieted.
All eyes on Sarri.
The old man seemed to enjoy the drama.
He opened his notebook slowly and cleared his throat.
“Tomorrow.
Away at Pescara.
The squad.”
He read.
“Goalkeepers: Pepe Reina.”
“Defenders: Elseid Hysaj, Christian Maggio, Raúl Albiol, Kalidou Koulibaly, Nikola Maksimovic.”
“Midfielders: Allan, Jorginho, Marek Hamsik…”
Sarri paused.
His eyes swept the room, lingered on Luca for half a second, then continued.
“Forwards: José Callejón, Arkadiusz Milik, Lorenzo Insigne.”
Finally, the last names on the bench.
“…and Luca.”
Luca’s name.
On the list.
He had suspected he was in the coach’s plans.
His fist clenched.
Excitement.
Nerves.
He was on the edge of the Serie A stage.
Waiting for the call.
“Congratulations, Luca!” Jorginho was the first to clap his back, grinning.
“Thanks, João!”
Luca knew his chances of starting were slim.
The attacking and midfield starters were established and strong.
But making the squad for the first official match after promotion was enormous validation.
A solid first step.
[ding!]
[Quest triggered: Serie A Debut!]
[Objective: Complete your professional debut in the 2016-17 Serie A opener, Napoli away at Pescara.]
[Reward: Based on playing time and performance.
Base reward: Ability Point x1.]
[Bonus rewards (optional):]
[1.
Complete one assist: ‘Precise Passing’ skill fragment x1.]
[2.
Complete one goal: ‘Poacher’s Instinct’ talent trial card (single match) x1.]
[3.
Play ≥30 minutes and receive a post-match rating ≥7.0: Ability Point x2.]
[Failure penalty: None.]
[Time to show the world your talent, young commander.]
The system’s voice added clear goals and motivation to Luca’s first league journey.
August 22.
Match day.
The match was in the evening, but Luca woke early to travel with the team.
They would meet at the club and take the bus to Pescara.
He stepped out of his apartment and was ambushed by neighbors.
“Go, Luca!
Show those Pescara boys what Napoli’s future looks like!”
“You’re our pride, kid!”
“Shame it’s an away game!
We’d be there otherwise!”
“Play well!
Next home match, the whole family will be at the San Paolo!”
“Destroy them!”
These were the diehard Napoli fans.
They had seen his name on the squad list and waited to send him off.
Their simple, passionate support warmed him.
The weight of expectation settled on his shoulders.
The news of Luca’s inclusion in the squad did not cause much stir in Italian football.
A bench spot.
Limited attention.
Only that night, on Sky Sport Italia’s flagship football talk show, “Tonight’s Match,” was he briefly mentioned.
The host, Paolo Di Canio, known for his loud mouth and Juventus loyalties, spoke about Napoli’s match with exaggerated mockery.
“Look at Sarri’s squad!
He put a seventeen-year-old kid named…
Luca?
On the list?
My God, did Napoli run out of players after selling Higuain?
No offense, but putting a youth player on a Serie A bench sounds like a joke!”
Another commentator, the more neutral Luca Marchetti, laughed.
“Paolo, don’t be cruel.
I looked at the kid’s profile and training footage.
He plays with intelligence.
Good-looking too.
Hair like Pirlo.”
“What’s looks got to do with it?
Football is played with feet, not faces!” Di Canio scoffed.
“I bet he doesn’t play a single minute!
Unless Sarri’s brain got fried by the Naples sun!”
Marchetti smiled.
“Oh?
So sure, Paolo?
How about a bet?
Whether Luca plays, even one minute.
Stakes?
The usual.”
“Ha!
Marchetti, you’re giving me money!” Di Canio laughed.
“A kid just promoted, against Pescara?
Sarri would only play him if he wanted to surrender!
I’m in!”
Marchetti smiled and said nothing more.
He liked doing his homework.
He had seen internal training reports.
His gut told him this boy might surprise everyone.
But he would not say that on air.