After several minutes of awkward silence, Belt regained his senses, unconsciously touching his lips. He answered Tonton without looking at him: "No, there is nothing. I didn't meet any monster." Uncle Jisk squinted, amused: "Are you sure? I could have sworn you crossed paths with a ghost on the way. But anyway, let's move on."
The coach approached to inspect Belt's outfit. "Not bad, the equipment. Light shoes, dark outfit... But explain this ferocious tiger logo you had printed on your jersey?" Belt puffed out his chest: "It's what I want to be. A tiger." Tonton burst out laughing, a raspy laugh that made his dog bark: "You, a tiger? That's the best one yet! But... the idea isn't bad."
The old man took the ball in his hands, his face suddenly becoming serious. "Listen carefully, kid. What you have forgotten, or what you ignore, is that before being a predator, you must accept being a prey." "I don't understand what you mean." "You don't need to understand for now. Let's talk tactics. What position do you want to play in your jungle?" Belt thought for a moment, visualizing the field: "I want to be far enough to observe, but close enough to bite. I don't want them to see me coming." Tonton smiled, impressed. "Decidedly, you will never cease to surprise me. The ideal position for you is not 'Main Striker' (Number 9). It is Second Striker (the Shadow Striker)." "Why not the main striker?" "The main striker is the Light. He is the Lion, the one everyone watches, the one defenders mark tightly. He cannot hide." Tonton pointed a finger at the empty space behind the ball: "The Second Striker lives in the Lion's shadow. He uses the dead zones. It is the perfect position for a Tiger who wants to appear out of nowhere to slaughter his prey." Belt's eyes lit up. "Using the shadow to bite... That is exactly what I want."
"Careful kid," interrupted Tonton. "Before acquiring a strength, you must first fix your weaknesses." "What do you mean?" "You'll understand quickly. Come on, on the track! You owe me 10 laps of the field. Full speed." Belt widened his eyes: "10 laps? That's impossible! The high school team only does 5! Why double?" "Because the greatest are those who endure more than the others. No excuses. You must be ready for your entry into the high school team in two weeks." Belt froze: "How do you know about the selections?" "I know everything. That's all. Do you prefer 20 laps?" "No! I'm going!"
Belt took off. The first lap went well. The second was difficult. In the middle of the third, it became torture. Belt was sweating from every pore. His legs were shaking. His breath was short. He collapsed in the grass, exhausted. "I... I can't anymore..." he panted.
Uncle Jisk approached quietly. "Now the real match begins. I advise you to get up and run if you don't want to end up as a snack." Suddenly, Tonton made a discreet hand signal. His dog, a bulldog named Tink, bared his teeth and dashed towards Belt, barking furiously.
Fear is a powerful fuel. Surprised and terrified, Belt jumped to his feet. Forgetting his fatigue, he started running like a madman, the dog on his heels. "Run!" screamed Tonton. "A tiger with no cardio is just an overweight kitten! Your best friend is your physical condition! I will make you drool until you become a machine!"
Belt managed to do two more laps, pushed by the survival instinct, before collapsing permanently on the 4th lap. Tink stopped dead and licked his face, suddenly gentle. Tonton wrote something in his notebook. "It's okay, Tink, he's had enough for today." He addressed Belt's inert body: "You don't win a fight if you are already defeated by your own body. You have one week to succeed in the 10 laps. See you tomorrow, kid."
Belt, too breathless to speak, just watched the coach's silhouette disappear into the night. He hurt everywhere, but he knew one thing: Tonton was right.
The next morning, at the high school entrance, Belt walked like a zombie. His muscles screamed with every step. He was stopped by Quiena. She looked nervous, fidgeting with her fingers: "Hi Belt... Listen, I apologize for what happened yesterday... I don't know what came over me... Anyway! Let's forget all that, okay? Let's focus on your test in two weeks!" Belt looked at her with dark circles under his eyes, too exhausted to analyze the social situation or feel embarrassed. "Understood, manager." "Uh... are you okay? You are walking weirdly." "Training..." grumbled Belt. "Ah, I see! If you are ready, let's go, classes are starting soon."