Dead silence, man. Like, you could hear a pin drop.
The shock was so intense it just wiped out all the noise, totally different from the chaos before. I mean, seriously, a sparring partner nailed a sixty-yard pass? No way, right? But it happened!
Then, boom! The sparring team went nuts, breaking the silence with their cheers and shouts. The main players just stared at each other, then at the sparring team, totally speechless and frozen.
The sparring team was going wild. Sure, it was just one pass, and yeah, it was a fluke in a three-on-three game, but they didn't care. This was huge for them. When else would they get to make the main players look bad?
Logan sprinted over, chest-bumping Luke hard, yelling, "Dude, seriously, have you been practicing on the sly? Your accuracy and power today were insane! That was epic!"
Luke had always wanted to be a quarterback. He and Logan had been high school classmates and rivals turned friends. They'd been on the same team ever since. Logan was a tight end, and Luke was the quarterback. They trained together—Luke helped Logan with catching, and Logan helped Luke with passing. It was their thing.
Luke was always good at passing. He had his moments, with decent power and accuracy on long throws. Usually, he could hit around thirty-five to forty yards. Beyond that, his accuracy tanked. Sixty yards? Forget it. Even at forty-five yards, he was only about fifty percent.
Back in eleventh grade, Luke had managed a fifty-yard pass that Logan caught. But today, a sixty-yard pass? He actually did it! It was so unreal, like a dream!
"Luck! Pure luck!" Kevin finally snapped out of it but was still in denial, shaking his head like crazy, "Do it again! That one doesn't count!"
Seeing Kevin's red face, Rick lost it. "You just summed up your whole crappy career in one sentence!" Kevin stood there, stunned like he'd been hit with a bucket of ice water. Rick wasn't done, pointing at Luke, "If you had even a tenth of Luke's dedication and effort, you'd be an All-Star by now! Talent means squat here!"
Rick's rant left Kevin speechless, but he kept going, "You know what? Your performance just now has demoted you from the third team to the reserves. Now, get out! Get out of here right now!"
Everyone was shocked, even the sparring team. Kevin stood there, lost. Logan shouted, "Get out! Idiot!"
Kevin finally reacted, throwing his helmet to the ground in anger and storming off the field. Other third-team players tried to stop him, but the coach's voice cut through, "Gather up! What are you doing? Get ready for the next drill! Get your heads in the game! You bunch of clueless idiots! The main players' training is doubled today!"
That was the bet for the three-on-three game earlier.
The main players groaned, trying to protest, but Rick shut them down, "Anyone who complains gets their training tripled!" That shut them up quick, and they got back to training, though the mood was pretty down.
No one likes losing, especially to the sparring team.
The field went back to normal. Anthony walked up and patted Luke on the shoulder, "Luke, you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." Luke finally caught his breath and took off his helmet, showing his short hair and delicate face. Among all the big guys, his slender face looked kinda out of place.
Anthony didn't say anything right away. He checked Luke over, making sure he was okay, then sighed in relief and shouted to the other sparring team members, "Alright, break it up, everyone. Back to training." He patted Luke's shoulder, "You should rest today. Head to the medical room and get checked out."
Luke nodded and headed for the bench. Behind him, Anthony's voice cut through the air, "Logan, I'm talking to you. Luke doesn't need your help. Get back to training." Luke couldn't help but grin as he finally plopped down on the bench. He needed a minute to catch his breath before hitting the medical room.
Everything had happened so fast—first the beef, then the showdown, and finally that insane pass. Luke almost forgot what it felt like to throw, especially a sixty-yard bomb. He needed to chill; his brain was on fire, and he half-expected it to start smoking.
As he calmed down, he remembered that weird, cold voice in his head earlier, "System?" Luke shook his head and chuckled bitterly. Must've been a mild concussion from the fall, causing him to hear things. But before he could fully dismiss it, the voice piped up again, "Yes, how can I assist you?"
Luke jumped, gasping for air, and looked around. No one was nearby. This wasn't a prank. So, what the heck was going on?
Luke hesitantly called out again, "System? What system?"
Immediately, a voice echoed in his mind, "Football Superstar System."
With the voice, Luke could "see" a translucent blue screen floating in his mind, looking all high-tech. At the top, it read "Football Superstar," and below was a login interface with the info: "Host: Luke Howard."
Luke felt like he was in a video game, except this game was in his head, like some sci-fi flick with aliens.
Aliens? Could it be those stars he saw in his mind earlier?
If it was a system, then the voice must be an NPC or the main program?
"Host." The voice echoed in his mind again, making Luke jump. He still wasn't used to someone talking directly in his head; it was super creepy. "Host, I am not Voldemort." Luke choked up. How could he forget that his thoughts could be directly transmitted? Did that mean all his thoughts would be exposed from now on? Including those... Wait, something felt off.
Stop. Luke forcibly interrupted all his thoughts. There was still a system waiting to chat in his mind. "What are you? What's going on?"
"This is a growth game system designed to cultivate top sports superstars in real life. I am No.7, specifically responsible for this Football Superstar System. You can choose to accept or reject it."
"If I reject it, will you leave? Leave my mind? Not invade my privacy?" Luke interrupted the system's rambling but kept questioning before it could answer, "I'm more curious, you're No.7, does that mean there are six others before you? Are there other systems like a Soccer Superstar System or a Tennis Superstar System? Is your number a general one or specific to the football branch?"
"By the way, you mentioned 'alien' Ronaldo Lima. Does he have a system? Or Lionel Messi? If they have cheats, that would explain a lot. I've always thought they didn't seem like beings from Earth. What about football? Who were the six before me? Has anyone received the system and still ended up mediocre? Wait, you're not an Earth creature, are you? Are you a creature or artificial intelligence? No.7? Seven?"
Silence, still silence, with only Luke talking to himself. Luke realized that if he didn't speak out loud and just thought, the speed seemed to increase exponentially, almost at the speed of light, rattling off a bunch of questions.
"Seven? Hello?"
Luke called out again, and this time he finally heard a response, "Host, do you have any other questions?"
"A game manual, I need a manual!" Luke wasn't sure how this worked. Before he could continue asking, the interface in his mind refreshed automatically, revealing a complete information panel.
Name: Luke
Surname: Howard
Age: 21
Birthday: November 11, 1989
Position: Blank
Jersey Number: Blank
Dominant Hand: Right
Height: 6.33 feet
Weight: 172 pounds
College: University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA)
Professional Team: None
Physical Attributes: 61/100
Mental Attributes: 81/100
Daily Tasks: None
Special Tasks: None
The system menu had nine pages, making it overwhelming. Below was a long list of sub-abilities, including speed, strength, jumping, and other basic physical attributes, as well as short passes, medium passes, long passes, evasion, breaking tackles, field vision, and other professional skills. It covered not just quarterback skills but also skills for offensive, defensive, and special teams positions.
Just a quick glance left Luke dizzy. More importantly, the massive amount of information brought a surge of shock and excitement, wildly stirring in his chest. "So, by using this system, I can become a top football superstar in real life?"