"Quarterback."
Luke didn't even blink. He'd been dreaming about this moment for eleven years, and now it was finally happening! His heart was pounding, and he could feel the adrenaline kicking in.
"Jersey number, eleven." No second thoughts. He'd been picturing this day forever. His birthday was November 11th, and eleven was his high school jersey number. "So, do I get any cool perks or something? Like, some killer skills to own the field? Not asking for much, just three or five would be cool."
"No." Seven's voice was as cold as ice, totally killing Luke's vibe.
Luke groaned, "Seriously? No perks at all? Every game gives you some starter pack. I didn't ask for magic weapons or a hundred million bucks, just a little something. How do you expect players to get hyped? To grind? You gotta give them a taste first, you know?"
"Reward?" Seven sounded confused. "You mean the basic points after the system kicks in? You had five basic points, all used up."
"What?" Luke was floored. Thinking back, it started to click. "Wait, those points I just threw around were the basic rewards?"
"Yes!" Seven's voice was back to its frosty self.
"Can we hit reset?" Luke was almost tearing up. "Don't you get that in games, how you spend your points is a big deal? Randomly adding points can wreck your character."
In games, how you allocate points is everything. Mess it up, and you can just start over. But in real life, there's no do-over.
He realized he'd messed up big time. "Seven, what are my stats now? Did I waste those five points? Where did they go?"
In the chaos, Luke had just clicked randomly and couldn't remember. But before he could think more, the interface in his mind updated, stopping at the skills page. Luke scrolled through, seeing way too many options.
Ignoring all the defensive and other offensive player stats, there were still thirty options just for the quarterback.
Luke noticed his physical fitness was only sixty-one out of a hundred, barely passing.
What did that mean? Among regular folks, he was decent, but for an athlete, he was just scraping by. In college football, he was practice squad material, and dreaming of the pros was a joke.
But his mental toughness was eighty-one, the highest of all his stats, which was pretty rare. Luke rubbed his chin, thinking. Was this why he made it as the high school team's quarterback?
According to the system, after college, going pro was a no-go. The best bet was to get a desk job and play sports on weekends. Those big sports dreams? Done.
But now, with the system, anything was possible!
This time, Luke took it slow. He calmed down and checked out every sub-item, even the defensive stats. If the system said he was better off as a defensive player, picking quarterback would be a joke.
But soon, Luke was relieved and almost wanted to shout, "I do have quarterback potential!" The overall stats sucked, but some were just less sucky. Luckily, the less sucky ones showed he was fit to be a quarterback.
The highest score was endurance, with eighty points, the only one above eighty besides mental toughness. Plus, he had five passing scores: throwing power, short pass accuracy, medium pass accuracy, long pass accuracy, and running pass.
These scores were bad, but at least they passed. Compared to the sea of failing red scores, these were decent. And these five were all key for a quarterback's passing game.
What did this mean? It meant if he stood still and threw the ball, he could get the job done. But on the field, a quarterback needs to move, dodge defenders, call plays, lead the team, watch, and make quick decisions. In those areas, he was totally useless.
Each sub-item maxed out at a hundred, with thirty items total. Adding points one by one, when would he ever become a top quarterback? Luke had no clue. But he knew he had a shot now. Whether he could make it or not was all on him.
"Long pass," Luke's eyes locked onto the long pass accuracy. He remembered, in his panic, he dumped all the basic points into long pass accuracy. Now, this skill was sitting at seventy-nine!
Seventy-nine! That crazy pass earlier made sense now. In high school, the farthest he could throw was fifty yards, and that was on a good day, maybe once. But just now, he nailed a sixty-yard pass, no sweat, and this was why!
He'd thrown all five basic points into long pass accuracy, making it his top skill. Without defenders in his face, he maxed out his long pass accuracy, landing the football right in Logan's hands!
Thinking back, before adding the points, his long pass accuracy was seventy-four; short pass accuracy was sixty-three, and medium pass accuracy was sixty-four. Comparing these, it was clear that in high school, Luke was a quarterback who relied on long bombs to make plays, which matched up with reality.
Looking closer, Luke saw that in the physical fitness sub-items, his strength was a sad forty-six, a total nightmare. But in the technical sub-items, his throwing power was seventy-eight, which tied into his killer long pass accuracy. Basically, his physical fitness was meh, but with technique and explosiveness, he could squeeze every bit of strength out of his body when passing, making those epic long throws.
"Who would've thought, I'm like a Popeye-style quarterback." Luke's mind drifted, picturing himself owning the Super Bowl, feeling like he was on cloud nine. After a moment, he snapped back to reality, carefully checking each of his technical sub-items. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a red number flashing in the upper right corner: "Basic Points: 1."
"Seven, why's there still a basic point here? Why didn't you give me a heads-up?" Luke said, excited. When he first got the system, the notifications were nonstop, but now Seven decided to go silent, almost making him miss it!
"Because this was earned from a game task, and the host decides when to allocate it," Seven replied, all business. "In the recent three-on-three match, the host completed a pass, earning +1 basic point."
"Got it!" Luke couldn't help but rub his hands together. "So, where should I put this point?" The five basic points were like a system freebie, but from now on, his stats were up to him. This time, Luke had to be smart about it.
But the problem was, with all these red stats, one basic point felt like a drop in the bucket. All his big dreams turned into practical steps.
After thinking it over, Luke decided to experiment. From high school to college, he'd been pushed around enough. Even during his year on the practice squad, it was the same. So, Luke wanted to throw this precious point into strength to see what it did. At least, the long pass accuracy had shown immediate results.
With a click, his strength went from forty-six to forty-seven.
Luke looked down at himself, checking his body, but nothing. Shouldn't he feel a rush? Or his muscles heating up? Or at least feel stronger? Even if he didn't turn into the Hulk, there should be something, right?
But there was nada, not a single feeling. This made Luke feel like a total idiot.
"Seven, be real, are you a scam?" Luke asked seriously.
"Host."
"Luke, my name is Luke! I have a name, you know. I call you Seven, don't I? Or are you really a scam? Am I just concussed, and this is all in my head, and I'm just talking to myself?"
"You only added one point to strength, not ten. The change won't be that noticeable. Modifying the body is a gradual process, not like hormones or catalysts," Seven explained, trying to sound professional.
Luke thought about it and realized it made sense, so he couldn't argue. "Then why didn't my throwing power change?"