January 2015.
London, England.
Tottenham Hotspur training ground.
The damp, cold air of a maritime winter cut straight to the bone.
But the young players gathered on the pitch felt something colder.
Every eye was fixed on Bill Vance, Tottenham’s academy director.
Three names were about to leave his mouth.
Three names that would decide the fate of every teenager standing there.
Every January, Spurs picked three academy players to join the first team for winter training.
Not the official squad.
Just training alongside them.
But that alone was a massive opportunity.
It meant exposure in front of the first-team manager.
Play well, catch his eye, and a real squad spot was possible.
It had happened before.
And with the Premier League’s brutal schedule, injuries piled up by winter.
Rotation became necessary.
That was how academy kids broke through.
The players called it Winter’s Trial.
Forty-some kids.
Three spots.
Less than one in ten.
The cruelty of it was the point.
Bill Vance looked over the desperate faces, let the silence stretch, and smiled.
He was enjoying this.
“The three names I call will join first-team training starting tomorrow.”
“My selection criteria, as always, is ability.”
He swept a cold gaze across the group.
His expression left no room for argument.
“Those chosen should thank me.
Those not chosen should thank me even more.
Then work harder.”
The teenagers hung on every word, tension wound to its limit.
Amid the anxious faces, one stood apart.
Black hair, East Asian features, utterly calm.
Almost bored.
How much longer was this bastard going to talk?
The sanctimonious act hadn’t changed one bit.
Ethan Cross picked at his ear, glanced at the system prompt hovering in his vision, and felt a flicker of unease.
[Football Legend System (Pending Activation)]
[Activation Event: Fail to be selected for Tottenham academy winter training roster.]
[Activation Progress: 0%]
Ethan didn’t care what names came next.
He already knew his wasn’t one of them.
A month ago, he’d woken up back in his seventeen-year-old body.
The joy and disbelief had been beyond words.
His father had put a ball at his feet when he was barely walking.
By six, he was in England’s formal academy system.
At twelve, he dominated a regional trial and Tottenham snapped him up.
In the years since, his talent had only grown more obvious.
His U16 performances were so strong that at fifteen, he was bumped up to the U18 squad.
And even playing above his age group, he still shone.
He’d just made the U18 league’s Best XI.
At sixteen, he was the youngest player on that list.
Pundits called him the next gem out of the Spurs academy after Harry Kane.
The most exciting Chinese-heritage player in the English youth system.
Everyone saw a bright future.
Then fate played its joke.
When Bill Vance took over as academy director, Ethan’s situation turned toxic overnight.
Vance was a flat-out racist.
In training, in matches, he made Ethan’s life hell.
The constant harassment wrecked Ethan’s rhythm.
Unreasonable training loads and erratic match schedules left his body unable to recover.
His form cratered.
Injuries piled up.
The prime years of his development were wasted.
His trajectory veered off a cliff.
The injuries shortened his career.
He retired before thirty, to a chorus of sighs from fans.
Every misery, every regret from that first life traced back to the man standing in front of him right now.
If not for the system’s activation requirement, Ethan would have put Vance on the ground a thousand times over this past month.
“Forward, Anderson Figo!”
“Defender, Mars Kline!”
The two players called out were ecstatic, barely containing themselves.
Everyone else’s faces fell.
By the usual pattern, the three spots covered attack, defense, and midfield.
The last name would be a midfielder.
Eyes turned toward Ethan.
The sixteen-year-old Chinese kid had just made the U18 Best XI.
He was the most talked-about midfielder in the academy.
The last spot had to be his.
Everyone else was out of luck.
“The final player joining first-team training is…”
Vance shot Ethan a mocking glance.
“Chris Lind.”
The name landed like a stone in still water.
“What?
Ethan didn’t make it?”
“He’s the best midfielder we’ve got!
How does he not get picked?”
“Chris Lind is decent, but he’s clearly a step below Ethan.”
No one had seen it coming.
Ethan’s face stayed flat.
No surprise at all.
Vance had it out for him, and not just because of the racism.
The real reason was simple.
Ethan had been recruited by the previous academy director.
Even if he broke through, even if he made the first team, the credit wouldn’t land on Vance, who’d only been in the job a few months.
New boss, new loyalties.
Ethan wasn’t one of Vance’s guys.
A plum opportunity like this was always going to a loyalist.
The three names called were all players Vance had personally promoted in recent months.
Chris Lind especially.
Everyone in the academy could see he wasn’t on Ethan’s level.
But he was Vance’s guy.
That was all that mattered.
In his first life, Ethan had been young and hot-headed.
He’d challenged the decision on the spot.
That public defiance only brought worse treatment down the line.
Now, knowing exactly what was coming, he felt nothing.
He wasn’t even paying attention to Vance anymore.
The moment the third name left Vance’s mouth, Ethan’s eyes locked onto the system interface.
[Ding!
Activation Event: Failed to be selected for Tottenham academy winter training roster (Complete)!]
[Recalibrating host career trajectory…]
[Recalibration result: Leave Tottenham academy.
Begin new career path.]
[Football Legend System activating…]
[Activation Progress: 1%… 16%… 33%… 50%…]
Finally.
The damn thing was waking up.
Ethan let out a breath.
The month of waiting hadn’t been for nothing.
He couldn’t wait to get out of this place that had ruined his first life.
His relief lasted about two and a half seconds.
The progress bar stopped at 50%.
Frozen.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
He’d swallowed his rage in this hellhole for an entire month, waiting for this exact moment.
The cork was off the bottle, and now the system was telling him it had a headache?
He’d come this far, and it wanted to play games?
What the…
Across the pitch, Bill Vance surveyed the murmuring crowd.
He knew Ethan’s exclusion would stir talk.
But he was the academy director.
His word was law.
No questions allowed.
Ethan was the old director’s project.
Smoothing his path did nothing for Vance.
Opportunities like this were for his own people.
And Vance had another calculation.
Keep the Chinese kid down for an extra year or two.
Let him marinate in the academy under Vance’s watch.
Eventually, the outside world would assume Ethan’s rise happened under Vance’s leadership anyway.
Whether stalling Ethan’s development for two critical years might derail his entire career?
Vance didn’t care.
The kid was just a tool.
If Ethan made it anyway, Vance would take the credit.
If he didn’t, he didn’t.
Vance looked over at Ethan now.
The sixteen-year-old had to be furious.
Seething.
Ready to explode.
If the kid dared to challenge him publicly, Vance could use that as an excuse to crush him further.
Perfect.
But what Vance saw wasn’t rage.
Ethan stood there, face blank, staring into space like he hadn’t even heard the announcement.
Like missing out hadn’t stirred a single ripple.
The kid had that much self-control?
“Ethan Cross!”
“Hey!
Ethan!
I’m talking to you!”
“Are you listening to me?!”
Ethan was already in a foul mood, the system glitch eating at him.
Vance picking this moment to get in his face was the last straw.
A month of bottled fury came pouring out.
“What the hell are you barking about?
I’m not deaf!”
The roar stunned Vance into silence.
Every player on the training ground stared, frozen.
Vance was the undisputed boss of the academy.
Everyone had their gripes, but no one dared talk to him like that.
Vance had never been spoken to that way in his life.
His shock curdled into a cold smile.
Fine.
The kid wanted to challenge his authority.
Now he’d pay for it.
Vance pushed through the crowd, stopping right in front of Ethan.
The other players parted.
Everyone knew what came next for a hothead who lost his cool.
“Ethan Cross!
You’ve got some nerve talking to me like that!”
“As of tomorrow, I’m officially announcing that you…”
SMACK.
No warning.
A crisp, loud slap.
Vance hit the ground.
The entire training ground went dead silent.
Everyone stared at Ethan, mouths open.
The quiet, steady Chinese kid had just done what they’d all imagined and never dared.
Ethan, still seething from the system’s fake-out, had a lot of frustration to vent.
When Vance practically offered his face, what was he supposed to do?
[Recalibration result: Leave Tottenham academy.
Begin new career path.]
[Recalibration effect strengthened!]
[Activation Progress: 50%… 55%… 66%…]
Wait.
Oh.
So that’s how this works.
Ethan’s quick mind put it together instantly.
The system wasn’t refusing to activate.
It was worried he wasn’t leaving fast enough.
Well, why didn’t you just say so?
He bent down, grabbed Vance by the collar, and hauled him up.
“Ethan!
You… you’re insane!
You hit me?!”
SMACK.
[Activation Progress: 72%…]
“You… how dare…”
SMACK.
[Activation Progress: 86%…]
“Stop, don’t…”
SMACK.
[Activation Progress: 99%… 100%!]
[Congratulations!
Football Legend System activated!]
[Activation reward: Legendary Chest ×1!]