Casteldebole Training Center, Bologna.Thursday Morning. Two Days Before Juventus Match.
The numbers on the GPS tracker tablet didn't lie, and they were brutal.
"Top speed: 28.4 km/h," the physical trainer read with a furrowed brow. He tapped the screen repeatedly, assuming a calibration error. "Rio, last week you clocked 34 km/h in your sleep. Now you're running like you're pulling a truck."
Rio Valdes stood on the sideline, hands on his knees, gasping for air. Cold sweat trickled down his spine. It didn't feel like normal fatigue. It felt as if five-kilogram lead weights were strapped to every muscle fiber in his thighs.
The System wasn't joking about Muscle Atrophy. The active debuff icon glowed red in his vision, reminding him that his sprint speed was reduced by 15% for the next 5 days and 12 hours.
At the elite level, a 1% drop is the difference between reaching the ball and getting tackled. A 15% drop is a catastrophe. It transformed Rio from a speedster into the slowest player on the pitch.
"I'm just tired, Coach," Rio lied, straightening up with difficulty. "Effects from Lisbon. My muscles are still in shock from yesterday's acceleration."
Coach Italiano approached, his face full of concern. "Our opponent on Saturday is Juventus, Rio. They have Gleison Bremer. He is the fastest and strongest defender in the league. If you step onto that field at 80%, Bremer will eat you alive."
Italiano looked his captain in the eye. "Maybe you should start from the bench. Zirkzee can lead the line."
Rio's heart hammered against his ribs. If he didn't play, Bologna's chances of winning dropped drastically. If Bologna lost or drew, they could lose the top spot. And if that happened, the Side Quest "The Domestic King" (+100 Days Lifespan) would fail.
He couldn't lose 100 days. That was his life.
"No," Rio said firmly. "I will play. But I can't play as a winger or a running striker. Bremer is too fast for me right now."
Rio grabbed a marker from the assistant coach and walked to the whiteboard on the sideline. He erased his position on the left wing and wrote his name in the center, right behind the striker, but deeper. Almost parallel with the defensive midfielders.
"Play me here," Rio said. "As an extreme False Nine. Or a Regista in the front line. I won't race Bremer. I will force him out of his den."
Italiano stared at the board, then at Rio. "You want to be a Playmaker with one leg?"
"I still have my hips," Rio replied, his eyes flashing. "And I still have my vision. Let me be the bait. Let Bremer focus on me, and Zirkzee will punish them."
Allianz Stadium, Turin.Saturday Night. Matchday 24 Serie A.Juventus vs Bologna.
The Allianz Stadium was a cold, modern fortress. The stands were steep, towering over the pitch, creating an intimidating wall of black and white noise. This was the home of La Vecchia Signora—The Old Lady. The ruthless and pragmatic ruler of Italian football.
As the teams lined up in the tunnel, Gleison Bremer stood beside Rio. The Brazilian defender looked like a statue carved from granite. His neck was as thick as a normal person's thigh. He stared straight ahead, but his aura of dominance was suffocating.
"I heard your legs were finished in Lisbon," Bremer muttered without turning his head. His Italian was rough and heavy. "Don't try to run tonight, kid. You'll hurt yourself."
Rio didn't answer. He simply checked his System one last time. Lifespan: 218 Days.Physical Condition: Debuffed (Speed E+).
Speed E+. That was the statistic of an amateur player. Tonight, Rio Valdes wasn't a physical monster. He was a mortal trying to survive among giants.
The referee blew the kick-off whistle.
Minute 15.The Painful Reality.
Rio's plan sounded good on paper, but the reality on the pitch was far crueler.
The first fifteen minutes were torture. Every time Rio received the ball, his first instinct was to turn and run. But his body refused. The explosive acceleration that was usually his ace card was gone.
In the 12th minute, a through ball from Ferguson split the Juventus defense. On a normal day, Rio would have chased it, left Bremer in the dust, and scored. But tonight, Rio ran with everything he had, and his legs felt like they were moving through molasses.
Bremer, who started two steps behind Rio, caught up to him easily within ten meters. The Juventus defender used his shoulder—a legal but brutal body charge—and Rio was sent flying off the pitch like a ragdoll.
Jeers erupted from the Juventus fans. "He's finished!" someone shouted from the stands. "His battery is dead!"
Rio picked himself up from the grass, brushing dirt off his jersey. Bremer stood over him, smiling dismissively. "I told you. You're slow."
Rio looked toward the bench. Coach Italiano looked anxious, his hands already holding a substitute's warm-up vest. If Rio lost the ball one more time, he would be subbed off.
Think, Rio, he scolded himself. You can't beat him with muscles. Use what you bought with your life.
He had Elastic Hips (Grade S). This skill provided perfect balance and 180-degree rotational flexibility. This skill didn't need running speed. This skill only needed timing.
Minute 38.Metamorphosis.
The score was still 0-0. Juventus, in typical Massimiliano Allegri style, played patiently, waiting for a mistake. They let Bologna keep the ball, knowing their captain was crippled.
The ball came to Rio's feet again. This time, he was in the center circle, back to the Juventus goal.
Bremer immediately glued himself to Rio's back. Rio could feel the defender's breath on his neck and the physical pressure of Bremer's chest pushing against him. Bremer wanted Rio to try to turn so he could snatch the ball with his long legs.
Rio didn't try to run. He stopped completely. He lowered his center of gravity, bent his knees, and held Bremer's weight with his back.
Hold it, Rio thought. Let him feel comfortable.
Bremer pushed harder, trying to destabilize Rio. But Rio used Elastic Hips to absorb the force. His hips weren't stiff; they were like a compressed spring.
Suddenly, Rio felt Bremer shift his weight to his left leg to try and extend his right leg to poke the ball.
Now.
Rio didn't run away. He used the momentum of Bremer's own push. With a hip movement that slithered like a snake, Rio spun his body 180 degrees through Bremer's left side—his pivot side.
He performed a Nutmeg, not forward, but sideways, slipping the ball through the gap in Bremer's wide-open legs.
Bremer, expecting physical resistance, lost his balance because his support was gone. The giant stumbled.
Rio was free. He wasn't fast, but he was free. And because he wasn't running, his head was up. His vision was crystal clear.
He saw Joshua Zirkzee making a diagonal run on the right, dragging the full-back Danilo. That opened a gap in the middle. Lewis Ferguson was running from the second line toward the penalty box.
Rio didn't need to run. He just needed to pass. His right leg—now possessing bone as hard as granite—swung.
[Skill Active: Mirage Strike (Pass Variation)]
He didn't shoot at the goal. He sent a Laser Pass. The ball skidded flat across the grass, slicing through three Juventus midfielders, passing through Locatelli's legs, and landing with military precision right in Ferguson's path.
Without needing to control the ball, Ferguson struck it first time. BOOM.
Szczesny, the Juventus keeper, didn't have time to react. The ball smashed into the top corner.
GOAL.Juventus 0 - 1 Bologna.
The Allianz Stadium fell silent.
Rio didn't run to celebrate. He just stood in the center circle, staring at Bremer, who was still trying to understand how he had been beaten without a footrace.
Bremer looked at Rio with a new gaze. It was no longer dismissive. It was wary. "You..." Bremer growled. "You used my body as a pivot."
Rio smiled faintly. His breathing was steady. He wasn't tired because he hadn't run. "I don't need to be fast to destroy you, Gleison," Rio said calmly. "I just need to make you move in the wrong direction."
Locker Room.Halftime.
The atmosphere in the Bologna locker room was different from usual. No one was screaming in joy. They all looked at Rio with a mix of respect and confusion.
"You changed your playstyle in 45 minutes," Zirkzee said, shaking his head. "Usually you are F1. Just now you played like... I don't know, like an old Zidane. You walked, but you controlled everything."
Coach Italiano patted Rio's shoulder. "That's what I meant by 'Forward Regista'. You became a rebound wall. Bremer doesn't know whether to stick to you or leave you. If he sticks, you spin him. If he leaves, you send a killer pass."
Rio drank his isotonic water. His legs still felt heavy; the debuff effect was real. But his mind was sharp. He realized something important: Lifespan Gacha gave him physical skills, but the experience of survival gave him football IQ.
"Second half will be harder," Rio warned his team. "Allegri will change tactics. He won't leave Bremer one-on-one anymore. They will swarm me."
Minute 88.The Last Bastion.
Rio's prediction was correct. Juventus attacked relentlessly in the second half. Chiesa and Vlahovic were brought on. Bologna was forced to defend deeply with a 5-4-1 formation.
Rio, whose legs were completely numb from muscle fatigue, dropped deep to help the defense. He was no longer a striker; he was an extra defender.
The score was still 0-1. Bologna was on the verge of a massive victory. But in the 89th minute, disaster struck.
A scramble in front of the Bologna goal. The loose ball bounced toward Vlahovic. The Serbian striker unleashed a volley from close range. Skorupski was wrong-footed. The goal was wide open.
Rio, standing on the goal line, saw the ball coming. He didn't have the speed to dodge or clear it with technique. The only thing he had was his body. A body reinforced with Phoenix Bone, but weakened by Muscle Atrophy.
"Damn it," Rio cursed.
He threw his body into the path of the shot. Not with his legs. With his right hip.
THUD.
The ball smashed into his right hip with full force. Pain exploded, but not the sharp pain of cracking bone. It was the dull ache of soft tissue bruising. His new bone withstood the impact like a steel shield.
The ball bounced out. A goal-line clearance!
Rio collapsed inside the goal, gasping for air. The referee blew the final whistle.
FULL TIME.Juventus 0 - 1 Bologna.
The mission "The Domestic King" was safe. The top spot was secure. And Rio Valdes, the Crippled King, had conquered the Old Lady without needing to run.
He stared at the magnificent roof of the Turin stadium. A system notification floated above him.
[Match Grade: A][Reward: +3 Days Lifespan.][Current Lifespan: 221 Days.][Quest Progress: 18/38 Matches.]
He was slow. He was in pain. But he won.