Soccer System: All the Skills, One Player!

Lucas knew that Team-A had dangerous players, but with every shot, he felt the flame of competition burning brighter inside him. The match was getting fun.

Javier dominated the ball and drew Felix in, swinging his body to the right, but in one swift movement he cut back to the left, evading his marker. Javier's peripheral vision was impeccable, and he found Simon again on the right wing.

The full-back ran like a rocket, crossing the halfway line as Loki ran to catch him.

"Loki, cover Simon!" shouted Felix, dropping back to close the gaps in the center.

Simon advanced a few more meters and raised his head. The ball was crossed powerfully across the B-Team area like an arrow. But Daniel was alert. He positioned himself well and headed the ball away, into the middle of the pitch.

Lucas saw his chance coming. He shot towards the ball, which bounced on the pitch. He felt the muscles in his legs burn as he sped up, leaving behind a Team-A marker who was trying to catch up with him.

"Go, Lucas! That's yours!" shouted Miguel, already running down the right, ready to support.

Lucas took the ball on his chest, his perfect touch cushioning its trajectory. He lifted his head briefly, analyzing the scene in front of him.

Kevin and Parker, the A-Team defenders, formed a solid defensive line, but he noticed a narrow space between them.

Relying on his intuition and skill, Lucas took the ball quickly.

Kevin advanced to mark him, but Lucas used his body to protect the ball, faking a cut to the right before pulling the ball to the left with the sole of his boot. Kevin tried to keep up, but momentarily lost his balance.

Now it was him against Parker. The A-Team's stoutest defender stood like a wall on the way to the goal. Parker opened his arms, trying to close the angle, but Lucas knew exactly what to do. He slowed down, which confused the defender, and then, with a subtle touch, he slipped the ball under the defender's legs.

"WHAT A PLAY!" echoed a shout from the side of the pitch, probably coming from Alex, the B-Team's assistant coach.

Lucas was free. In front of him was Mark, the A-Team goalkeeper. He heard the footsteps of the defenders trying to reach him, but kept his focus. Mark took a few steps forward, trying to close the angle, his eyes fixed on Lucas' movements.

The world seemed to slow down for Lucas.

He remembered a moment from his childhood, practicing shots with a makeshift goal made of bottles in the backyard. His father, John, who rarely had time, had stopped an entire Sunday afternoon to help him perfect his accuracy.

"Calm down, Lucas. It's not about shooting hard, but with intent. Aim where the goalkeeper doesn't expect it," his father had said, holding the ball in both hands before handing it to him.

Lucas blinked as the scene from his childhood backyard flashed across him like a flash of light. He was just a boy then, bare feet, grass-stained clothes and a smile that shone brighter than the Sunday sun.

His father was kneeling beside him, pointing to the bottom right corner of a makeshift goal made up of two empty soft drink bottles. He was so young that he couldn't even remember his own age.

"Concentrate. Imagine the goalkeeper throwing himself to the opposite side. That's where you shoot," said John. Find your next read on empire

Back on the pitch, in front of Mark, Lucas realized he wasn't very different from that moment. The essence was the same: him, the ball, and an instant decision.

The goalkeeper jumped slightly, his eyes fixed, his muscles ready to react.

Lucas took a gentle touch with the inside of his right foot, pushing the ball forward. Mark took another step forward, trying to guess the movement, but Lucas remained calm. He didn't need strength, just precision.

He tilted his body to the left, simulating a cross-kick. It was enough for Mark to fall into the trap. When the goalkeeper leaned the wrong way, Lucas finished with his right foot. He placed the ball low into the opposite corner.

The ball slid across the grass as if guided by an invisible line, past Mark's fingertips, which, even stretched to the limit, he couldn't reach. It found the back of the net and stayed there.

"WHAT A GOAL!" shouted Miguel, almost out of breath.

Lucas, still panting, flashed a smile that seemed to light up the whole pitch. He raised his arms and hugged Miguel tightly.

"I knew you'd do it, partner!" said Miguel, slapping him on the back.

Raphael arrived right behind him, messing up Lucas' hair. "That's ace stuff, my brother!"

The scoreboard now showed 3-2, and the sparkle in the players' eyes was clear. Lucas ran back to midfield as his teammates surrounded him with warm greetings.

"That's it, Lucas! Way to go!" said Felix, giving him a gentle push on the shoulder, a friendly gesture that carried pride.

On the other side, the A-Team showed expressions of frustration.

Lucas, panting, looked at the scoreboard and felt sweat trickle down his temples. His body was pulsing with adrenaline, but he knew there was still a long game ahead.

"Let's keep our heads, guys. We're ahead, but they're dangerous," he said, trying to convey confidence and focus at the same time.

Before the game could continue, the referee's whistle blew, announcing the end of the first half.

The players gathered on the B-Team bench, taking deep breaths as they took quick sips of water.

"Very good first half, guys," began Eddie as he pointed to a notepad he was holding. Since he couldn't help during the game, he would try to help as much as possible at half-time. "But they're adapting. Javier is seeing spaces on the wings and playing Simon and Willian further forward. We need to adjust our marking."

As Eddie spoke, Lucas looked around, analyzing the faces of his teammates. Denis had his head down, catching his breath, while Raphael wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt. Felix, the captain, stood firm, with the serious expression of someone who already knew that the second half would be an even tougher battle.

Lucas raised his hand, drawing the attention of Alex and the team. "I have a suggestion." He said. "I think it's time to change something at left-back."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Raphael looked up, surprised, but showed no resentment. "Speak up, Lucas. What are you thinking?"

Lucas took a deep breath before continuing. "You're fast and great at counter-attacks, Raph. But now we're ahead, and they're pressing a lot on the right with Simon. Maybe we should put the Hillebrand on. He's stronger defensively and can hold up play better there."

Raphael bit his lower lip, thoughtful, but then nodded. "That makes sense. Hillebrand needs chances too. If we want to show that we deserve the A-Team, it's everyone fighting together." He looked at Eddie and Alex. "I'm fine. Put him in."

Eddie looked at Raphael with an approving smile. "Respectful attitude, Raphael. Hillebrand, warm up quickly! You're on at the start of the second half."

Hillebrand, who was sitting further back, stood up immediately. "You got it, guys. I'll give it my all."

He started stretching his arms and legs, a confident smile on his face.

Lucas turned to Raphael and patted him lightly on the shoulder. "You were a giant in the first half, Raph. This is teamwork. Without you, we wouldn't be ahead."

Raphael smiled. "Make sure we come out of here with a win."

Meanwhile, Felix raised his voice to the group. "Everyone's playing well, but this is where we separate the strong from the weak. This second half is going to be tough. Each of you needs to give 110%. Is that clear?"

"Yes, captain!" they replied in unison, with enthusiasm.

The A-Team, on the other hand, gathered on the other side of the pitch.

Coach Jimenez was leading the conversation, pointing to a small improvised sketch he was drawing on the grass with a twig.

Ethan crossed his arms, frowning, while Willian listened intently.

Coach Jimenez was gesturing, trying to pass on his instructions. "Simon, you need to be even more offensive," said Jimenez in a hurried tone. "Ethan, stop waiting for the ball. Start looking for it. Their defense isn't as solid if you create confusion there."

Ethan shook his head, not entirely convinced, but he knew he had to control himself. He didn't want to let his emotions take over.

The whistle soon blew again, summoning the players for the second half. As the Team-B players ran to their positions, Hillebrand came on in place of Raphael, receiving a few encouraging pats on the back of his colleagues.

Lucas stopped in the center circle, looked up at the sky, and took a deep breath. He knew that the second half would be even more difficult. But he also knew that this was the moment to show who he was, to prove that Team-B wasn't just a second tier team - they were a team worthy of being Team-A.

And the game resumed.

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