Chapter 10: The Gravity of the Anchor
The SV Sloten clubhouse smelled of damp earth, industrial-grade liniment, and the quiet, simmering ego of nineteen-year-old men.
Luuk sat on the end of a wooden bench, tucked into the corner furthest from the door. He was early—twenty minutes early—but the room was already occupied. These weren't the trialists from Saturday; these were the regulars. The "A-Juniors." These were boys who had survived the cuts of the professional academies and were now playing at the highest amateur level in the Netherlands.
He felt their eyes. It wasn't the curious gaze of the kids at the park; it was a cold, territorial assessment.
"You're the kid from the trial," a voice boomed.
Luuk looked up. Standing in the center of the room was a player who looked less like a teenager and more like a construction worker. He was broad-shouldered, with a thick neck and a jawline that seemed carved from granite. This was Jonas 'The Wall' Dekker, the captain and starting center-back.
[Target Analysis: Jonas Dekker]
[Physical: 72 | Strength: 78 | Aggression: 80]
[Note: High-impact defender. Likely to use 'Shoulder-Check' tactics.]
"I'm Luuk," he said, his silver-grey eyes meeting Jonas's without blinking.
"I don't care what your name is," Jonas replied, pulling a tight compression shirt over his torso. "Visser thinks you've got magic feet. I think you got lucky against a bunch of rejects. This isn't a trial anymore, kid. This is my pitch. You stay out of my way, or I'll put you in the dirt."
Luuk didn't answer. He didn't need to. He could feel the 95 Balance humming in his core—a rooted, heavy sensation that made Jonas's threats feel like wind hitting a mountain.
The training session began with "The Gauntlet"—a high-intensity 1-v-1 drill in a tight, 10-meter box. The rules were simple: the attacker has to protect the ball for thirty seconds. The defender is allowed to do anything short of a two-footed tackle to take it.
"Van den Berg! You're up!" Visser shouted, his whistle hanging from his lips. "Dekker, show him how we play in the First Team."
The team gathered around the small square of muddy turf. Luuk stepped into the box. The ball was zipped to him. As he touched it, the world slowed down.
[Ball Control: 100/100 ]
[Balance: 95/100 ]
The moment the ball hit his boot, it stopped. It didn't bounce an inch. It simply sat there, as if the air around it had frozen.
Jonas charged. He didn't go for the ball; he went for Luuk's hip, throwing his entire 85kg frame into a shoulder barge. It was a hit designed to send a teenager flying.
THUD.
The impact was loud, but Luuk didn't move. He didn't even stumble. His 95 Balance acted like an internal gyroscope; his feet shifted minutely, his center of gravity dropping an inch, and he absorbed the entire force of the hit through his core.
Jonas bounced off him as if he'd hit a steel bollard. The captain stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock.
"What the...?"
Luuk didn't wait. As Jonas lunged again, Luuk performed a Zero-Radius Pivot. He kept the ball glued to his foot, spinning 180 degrees while Jonas's momentum carried him into empty air. Luuk felt a twinge in his hip—a reminder of his 58 Flexibility—and he immediately adjusted. He wouldn't fight his body; he would use it.
The session moved into an 8-v-8 game. Luuk was placed on the "reserve" side, playing against the starting defense.
Twenty minutes in, Luuk could feel the "Friction" heat in his joints. A high-torque, power shot would be dangerous. He needed a different solution.
A chipped pass came toward him at chest height. Jonas was right on his back, breathing down his neck, hands subtly shoving Luuk's shoulder blades to unbalance him.
Luuk didn't fight the shove. He leaned into it, using Jonas's own strength as a support. As the ball reached him, Luuk didn't try to bring it down to the mud.
[Ball Sense: 100 — Analyzing Keeper's Momentum]
[Trajectory: 94% Accuracy]
With the softest touch imaginable, Luuk used the bridge of his foot to redirect the ball's existing flight path. He didn't swing his leg. He just "guided" it.
The ball arced over the keeper's head in a perfect, lazy parabola. It looked like a mistake, like the ball had just accidentally bounced off him—until it dropped vertically, kissing the underside of the crossbar and falling behind the line.
Zero effort. Zero power. Just pure, mathematical placement.
"He didn't even kick it," a teammate muttered. "He just... let it happen."
The game continued, and the frustration on the senior team was mounting. Jonas tried to close the gap again, charging at Luuk as he received a ground pass. Luuk felt the "Lag" in his hip as he tried to turn. Instead of forcing a wide, painful dribble, he used a Short-Circuit Touch.
He waited until Jonas's foot was inches away, then flicked the ball up with his toe, just high enough to clear Jonas's sliding tackle. As the ball came down, Luuk didn't wait for it to hit the ground. He cushioned it with his thigh and, in the same motion, poked it through Jonas's open legs.
A nutmeg.
Luuk walked past the stunned captain. He wasn't running; he was moving at a methodical pace, conserving his energy, letting his 100 Ball Sense do the work that his 50 Agility couldn't.
He was in front of the goal again. The keeper rushed out, trying to "big" himself.
Luuk didn't shoot. He didn't even look at the goal. He saw a tiny gap between the keeper's legs as they opened during the stride. With a soft, disguised poke from his big toe, he sent the ball rolling at a snail's pace.
It rolled precisely through the gap. The keeper tried to sit on it, but the ball was already past him, trickling over the line with barely enough momentum to touch the net.
[Status: Evolutionary Efficiency Achieved]
[Neural Load: Stable]
Luuk turned and walked back to his half. He didn't celebrate. He just gripped his jersey, feeling the steady throb of his growing bones. He had scored twice against the best amateur defense in the city without ever breaking into a full sprint.
He wasn't playing their game. He was playing a game of centimeters, and in that game, his 100 Control made him the master of every single one.
____°____
A/N: Here is a extra chapter for the new year.
I hope you all like it
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The book got recommended in "fresh stories" !
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