Tomás exhaled after shutting down Shinji Kagawa.
He had to admit, Ryan Giggs was something else.
Just glancing at the pitch, Giggs seemed to read the whole picture instantly.
Carrick was a master.
Giggs was a master too.
Twenty-three years at United had given him a level of insight nobody else on the field had.
Only…
Hidden intentions?
If it weren’t for the mission’s name, Tomás would have accepted the mentorship immediately.
Even without a mission attached, he wanted to keep learning from Giggs through the whole match.
Tomás hesitated.
Did Giggs actually have some angle?
He was a nobody.
What could Giggs possibly want to scheme against him for?
After a moment, Tomás drifted back to Giggs’s side.
Giggs was marking him; he had to return to him anyway.
If the mission triggered something bad, he would just decline it.
Simple.
Ding!
Congratulations, you have triggered the major story mission ‘The Mentor with Hidden Intentions,’ first stage.
With Giggs’s help, become the best player in this match.
Rewards: 1.
One random special skill from Giggs.
2.
Giggs’s personal teaching.
This story mission is mandatory.
No penalty for failure.
Tomás blinked.
A story mission?
What kind of hidden angle was behind this?
This mission felt a lot like the one Moyes had given him: shut everyone up.
Giggs’s mission was clearly harder, though.
Best player in the match?
Nearly impossible.
It all depended on how much Giggs actually helped.
“You were a beat slow getting back into position there,” Giggs said quietly as they jogged.
“Once you’ve judged the opponent’s attack isn’t a real threat anymore, you don’t need to track back and help defend.”
“How am I supposed to judge if an attack is still a threat?”
“Watch their attacking focus, the traits of their forwards, your own team’s shape, and the defensive habits of whoever is on the ball. Ball’s at Nani’s feet. Rafael’s marking him. He’ll cut inside and shoot wide.”
A moment later, Nani cut inside.
His shot flew wide of the post.
Tomás stared.
Master Giggs, are you a prophet?
He realized his system, which read out pass success rates, was nothing compared to what Giggs could do on pure instinct.
Out on this pitch, Giggs could see the future.
“Also,” Giggs added, his voice steady.
“Out there, you can be excited, angry, happy, annoyed, whatever. But don’t overreact. Carry yourself like a star. Have presence. People respect that. They look up to it. Don’t let anyone peg you as easy to push around. Get that reputation, and they’ll come at you like lions.”
Tomás thought it over.
He nodded.
“Understood.”
Ding!
Your mentor Giggs has imparted his teaching to you; your [Lion Heart] trait experience +50.
What kind of mission is this?
Finding a good teacher is everything.
Tomás’s eyes brightened.
“Try dropping a little to the left in the backfield to receive,” Giggs murmured.
Huh?
He wants the ball, and Fellaini will actually give it to him?
And why the left?
“Fellaini is good in the air in the box, useless organizing an attack,” Giggs explained.
“Right now he just wants someone to hand the responsibility off to. Ask, and he’ll give it up. You’re right-footed, aren’t you? Receiving on the left side of the backfield opens up your vision and passing angles. Back to goal, under pressure, the direction your right foot naturally lays it off is exactly where your teammates cluster. Best receiving spot there is for a right-footed playmaker sitting deep.”
Tomás asked for the ball, half-doubting it would come.
Fellaini passed it immediately.
The prophet was right again.
The rest of the Red Team shifted toward Tomás, flipping from attack to defense, trying to swarm him.
Tomás dropped his left shoulder slightly and completed his turn the instant the ball touched his boot.
Receive, turn, advance, release.
One fluid motion.
Giggs was beaten before he registered the movement.
Before the Red Team could close the trap, a gap opened.
“You have real skill in that turn,” Giggs said.
Tomás felt a rush of pride.
It meant his skill was high-grade.
Even the knowledgeable Giggs was impressed.
Tomás’s turn was strong because it didn’t lean on his attributes.
Outside of Passing, his numbers were low.
If his skills needed strong attributes to work, he would never have pulled it off.
Self-earned skills were the best kind.
They fit like they were made for him.
“If you had a bit more leg power, it’d be even stronger,” Giggs noted.
Giggs had seen straight through it.
The skill didn’t depend much on attributes, but it depended heavily on build.
Tall and long-legged meant a quicker turn and a wider turning radius.
“I’m only seventeen. I can still grow,” Tomás said defensively.
“Hm.” Giggs looked him over.
“About 1.78 meters, decent build, long legs for your height. Most players at 1.8 meters don’t have legs that long.”
Up the pitch, Rooney didn’t waste the opening Tomás had created.
Tomás had received the ball in the middle of a swarm, turned, and ripped it clear, breaking straight through the Red Team’s high press.
Their defense couldn’t recover fast enough.
Rooney ran the channel and slid a through ball to Welbeck, who slotted it past Anders Lindegaard.
White team, 1-0.
Tomás hadn’t scored or assisted directly, but the goal started with his receive, turn, and release.
“Seeing that live hits so much harder than watching it on a phone screen!” Moyes said on the sideline.
Even if Giggs’s marking had been slack, Moyes figured Tomás would have completed the turn regardless.
It had been elegant.
Graceful.
There was a nagging sense the kid had more in the tank.
That kind of presence was rare.
“Three years riding the bench as an attacking midfielder in the U16s,” Steve Round lamented.
“What a waste of talent. This kid’s a genius playmaker who can carry the ball forward from deep. Those academy coaches must have been blind.”
“Tomás, that pass was brilliant!” Rooney called out, jogging back to the center circle.
The rest of Moyes’s supporters, plus plenty of the anti-Moyes faction, had their eyes locked on Tomás.
The receive, turn, and advance really had been beautiful.
No wonder United gave a seventeen-year-old a top-tier contract.
No wonder Moyes promoted him.
“Didn’t expect that out of our five young players, Rashford wouldn’t be the first one to step up.”
“That receive-turn-drive looks simple, but I don’t think I could do it.”
“Even if you could, it wouldn’t be that smooth. And if it’s not smooth, it’s useless out there.”
Hearing his teammates, Rashford shot a hard look at Januzaj, who was trailing him.
You bastard, have you lost it?
You’re an attacker, why are you following me around the whole match?
Rashford glared at him.
Januzaj stayed entirely unbothered.
All he cared about was needling Rashford.
Attacking wasn’t even on his mind.
The White team held the lead.
Tomás had performed well enough to earn real recognition from the rest of Moyes’s group.
They passed to him more willingly now.
All through the scrimmage, Giggs kept teaching Tomás patiently, by example and by word.
Giggs was willing to teach, and Tomás was more than willing to learn.
From reading the whole pitch down to the smallest detail of receiving technique, Giggs handed over almost everything he had.
Ding!
Your mentor Giggs has imparted his teaching to you; your [Passing] experience +50.
Ding!
Your mentor Giggs has imparted his teaching to you; your [Ball Control] experience +50.
Ding!
Your mentor Giggs has imparted his teaching to you; your [Passing] experience +50.
Your mentor Giggs has imparted his teaching to you; your [Ball Control] experience +50.
Ding!
Your [Passing] attribute is ready to upgrade.
Automatically upgraded to 70.
Ding!
Your [Ball Control] attribute is ready to upgrade.
Automatically upgraded to 50.
What mentor with hidden intentions?
This is clearly a mentor who teaches with everything he has!
More than the stat boosts, Tomás valued Giggs’s way of reading a match.
Before this, stepping onto a pitch for a real professional game had felt shrouded in mystery.
He hadn’t known what he was supposed to do proactively.
Now the fog had thinned.
And that wasn’t counting the help Giggs had given him during the match itself.
When Tomás was defending, Giggs—technically on the attacking side—guided his movement, positioning, and read of the defense.
When Tomás was attacking, Giggs—technically marking him—walked him through passing, receiving, breaking lines, and decision-making.
Giggs had essentially become the White Team’s twelfth man.
His own Red Team teammates were furious, but there was nothing they could say.
Slacking off was one thing.
Actively helping the enemy was another.
3 to 1.
The 45-minute match ended.
Tomás’s side, White, won.
Giggs had played double agent the whole time.
Playing deep-lying playmaker, Tomás hadn’t scored or assisted directly, but his performance had been outstanding.
Organizing, passing, advancing, linking play, even defending well enough to neutralize Giggs.
Of every player on both sides, Tomás had been the standout.
“Feel like the match ended and you still hadn’t had enough?” Giggs asked.
Tomás nodded.
“Remember this feeling. Hold onto this hunger for the game for as long as you can. The moment you lose it, you lose control of yourself, and the game along with it.”
Huh?
[Lion Heart]: strong desire.
The hunger for competition is the driving force.
Lose that hunger, and you lose yourself, and your strength right along with it.
Tomás felt like he had just grasped something important.
Ding!
Thanks to Giggs’s teaching, your [Lion Heart] trait experience has increased by 100, and your [Lion Heart] trait has been upgraded to LV4.
“Thank you. Really, thank you.” Tomás meant it.
Even if Giggs genuinely had an ulterior motive, Tomás thanked him for the lessons.
“Kid, don’t lose sleep over it.” Giggs smiled.
Maybe it was just an early parting gift.
Or maybe a token compensation for helping ruin a United talent.
Genius?
His raw physical talent was average, but his comprehension, technical feel, and football intelligence were top-tier.
He was undoubtedly a future midfield maestro.
Such a shame, Giggs thought.
But promising talents were a dime a dozen.
How many actually made it?
He had taught the kid what he needed to know.
What came next was up to how much of it actually stuck.
“You think I was the best player in this match?” Tomás asked.
“That’s not really mine to decide,” Giggs said.
Tomás looked at him, surprised.
If the reward for this mission meant he wouldn’t be in contact with Giggs anymore, who was he supposed to reach out to instead?
Giggs walked off, smiling.
Is that up to Moyes to decide, then?
Beep beep beep!
Assistant coach Round’s whistle rang out.
“Gather up!”
Tomás turned.
The moment that would decide his fate had arrived.
Time for the mission to be judged.