Free Web NovelChapter 27: [27] "Access the store"
Sunday morning. No match and no press.
Luc sat at the kitchen table in Juliette’s apartment, a black coffee going cold beside him. His tablet was open. He wasn’t reading anything, instead he was thinking.
Seven all.
Tied for the first time in weeks. Fontaine had played like a man who remembered who he was. Two clean, efficient finishes. Like a king who had been reminded how to act like one.
Luc had said it was what he wanted but was it really?
"TES, what do you have for me?"
[System Notification]
[Current Balance: 5 General Points | 5 Skill Points]
[TES Store is available. Access?]
"Access the store."
[System Notification]
[TES STORE — Available Items]
[1 — Weak Foot Refinement | Cost: 3 Skill Points | Effect: Permanent +2 to right-foot shot power and accuracy]
[Already partially active via Technical stat reward. This upgrades the ceiling.]
[2 — First Touch Under Pressure | Cost: 5 Skill Points | Effect: Elite ball control when receiving under a press. Permanent.]
[3 — Tunnel Vision Suppressor | Cost: 2 General Points | Effect: Peripheral vision +1 tier. Permanent. See blind-side runs before they register.] freewebnøvel.coɱ
[4 — Physical Conditioning Buffer | Cost: 5 General Points | Effect: Reduces injury accumulation rate by 20%. Permanent. Because cracked ribs were cute but let’s not do that again.]
[5 — Predatory Aura Top-Up | Cost: 3 General Points | Restores x2 uses. Consumable.]
Luc picked up his coffee. It was cold but he drank it anyway.
Weak Foot Refining was already half-built through earned rewards, spending three skill points to complete it was the kind of logic that satisfied him.
First Touch Under Pressure was the kind of upgrade that saved you from the Aquitaines of the world. From muddy boots and studs out welcoming parties.
The Tunnel Vision Suppressor was what had beaten him in the Belleville game. He had been running straight. Hadn’t sensed Amadou running from the angle. That would not happen again.
He spent ten seconds deciding.
"TES. Purchase Tunnel Vision Suppressor, Weak Foot Refinement, Predatory Aura Top-Up."
[System Notification]
[Purchase confirmed]
[Tunnel Vision Suppressor — Active. Peripheral processing upgraded.]
[Weak Foot Refinement — Active. Right foot ceiling raised.]
[Predatory Aura Top-Up — 2 uses restored. Balance: 0 General Points | 2 Skill Points]
[Remaining before update: First Touch Under Pressure still available for 5 Skill Points and Physical Conditioing Buffer still available for 5 General Points]
[Earn more and Save up]
"Two skill points left."
He made a mental inventory. Speed was recovered. Core was permanent. Ribs were healing. Right foot was getting better. Peripheral vision upgraded.
His body was becoming a different instrument.
---
He heard Juliette approaching. The kitchen tap shutting off, the soft dragging of her feet on the floor, then a long exhale.
She appeared in the doorway in an oversized white shirt with her dark hair loose. She poured her own coffee and looked at him over the rim of her mug.
"You’ve been up since five."
"Four," Luc corrected.
Her eyes narrowed. "Because he scored twice? You’re not going to spiral, are you?"
Luc looked at her. "Have you ever seen me spiral?"
She sat down across from him and wrapped both hands around her mug. "No. That’s actually what worries me more sometimes."
---
Three hundred miles away, somebody was waking up differently.
Chloé sat on the terrace of Fontaine’s penthouse with both her legs folded beneath her, a white cup of tea in her hands.
She had heard the celebrations around paris from inside the penthouse last night. She also got a text from Fontaine’s agent that said: He’s back.
She hadn’t celebrated. She had simply watched Olivier when he returned as he stared at the television replays, composed in a way she hadn’t seen him in weeks. Not since the gala. Since the broken glass and the silver suit humiliation.
He had come to find her afterwards. Not with orders or with anger. He sat down next to her on the sofa and said nothing for a long time.
Then he said, "tell me what you saw at L’Arc, tell me about him. Honestly."
She had told him. All of it. The coldness in Luc’s eyes. The indifference. The fact that Luc wasn’t performing anymore, he wasn’t grandstanding. He was building himself without looking back.
When she finished, he said, "he’s better than I thought."
That was the last thing she expected.
She asked him if he was scared.
Olivier picked up his glass. Took a slow sip. "No, atleast not anymore. I’m interested."
He had gone to bed that night a man who had just found a reason to sharpen himself again. Not for the media or for sponsors, but for the game.
The next training session, his teammates noticed the difference too.
---
Chloé drank her tea and thought about two men. One who had held her cold hands on a frat party balcony in America and promised her nothing, which was the most honest thing she’d ever been offered.
And one who had given her everything, and in doing so had shown her the ceiling of what he was.
She placed her cup down and stared at the Paris skyline. The city didn’t offer her any answers.
---
The SC Valois training ground. Monday.
Luc was on the pitch an hour before the scheduled session. He ran diagonals across the width of the box, twenty repetitions, tight, sharp cut-ins off either foot. A series of long-range shots with his right, adjusting the plant foot by those few inches Hugo had shown him.
The Tunnel Vision Suppressor was already paying out.
He could feel it. His view of the field was slightly wider, a better awareness of movement just outside his usual line of sight like how sound gets slightly cleaner after adjusting the volume just once.
He was running a shooting drill when he felt a presence behind him, he didn’t turn, just played the ball into the empty net and straightened up.
"You got here before me," said the voice behind him.
Idriss Konaté was standing at the edge of the pitch. In his full training kit with a ball under one arm. His expression was unreadable.
Luc turned around but didn’t say anything.
Idriss just stared at him. He wasn’t looking for a fight but he wasn’t smiling either.
"Against Dijon," Idriss said. "I want to be the one to score against them. You know how much I want to play that match."
"I know, I’ve heard." Luc said.
"I’m not asking for the shirt back," Idriss said. "I’m asking you not to waste any chances, cause if you do I’ll make sure to be the itch that never leaves you. We are rivals, don’t forget that."
He dropped his ball and started his own warm-up on the far side of the pitch.
Luc watched him for a moment. What he said was fair, all of it. It was also a warning.
He turned back to the goal and set another ball down then shot the ball with his right foot to the inside of the goalpost.
He set another one down.
