Free Web NovelChapter 3: [3] "The System Doesn’t Care About Your Heartbreak"
8 AM sharp. Luc didn’t sleep.
[User has acquired The Everything System]
His mind briefly lingered on it, he had other matters occupying his head.
He had spent the night in a cheap motel near the training grounds, his mind reliving the scene in Room 402. Whenever he shut his eyes, he would see Fontaine’s superior smirk. Good. Let it burn. Anger was a more powerful fuel than heartbreak anyway.
He stepped into the Sporting club premises. It was a mid table team. Paint was peeling in the hallways and the coffee machine in the lobby appeared to have been through the Cold War. It basically was a far cry from the luxurious setting Fontaine had been enjoying at the top of the league, but it was a battle ground. And Luc was ready for war.
He located the locker room. Some players were already there, conversing in French, and tying their laces. When he came in, they all stopped and looked at the new kid.
Luc left his bag in an empty stall.
"You have to be the American," someone said in an accented English.
Luc turned. There was a man leaning on the lockers, he was tall, shaved-headed, and had a lot of tattoos on his body. Captain of the team and holding midfielder, Mateo.
Luc said, "Luc Beaumont."
Mateo scoffed and crossed his arms, saying "I heard Henri signed a college kid. Now look, this is not a frat party, Yankee. We’re fighting in this league to stay alive, don’t expect us to lift your dead weights."
Luc, who didn’t miss a beat, replied, "Don’t worry. I’m accustomed to the heavy burden of dead weight. You’ll likely be the dead weight, not me."
Mateo’s eyes narrowed. Others of the players who could speak English, grumbled under their breath. A piercing voice cut through the air of tension in the room, before Mateo could get in Luc’s face.
"Save the energy for the pitch, boys. I’m loving the testosterone levels in here."
Luc gazed in the direction of the door. There was a woman who was holding a clipboard. She was in her mid twenties and was dressed in a skin tight club tracksuit that didn’t cover up her curves at all. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, her green eyes were piercing, and her stance was stern and commanding.
She walked into the locker room, no hesitation, "I’m Juliette. Head therapist," she said, adjusting her hair skightly. "Beaumont, before you step on the grass, you need to have your baseline medical check."
Luc picked up his training shirt and walked down the hall with her. Following her, he was unable to not enjoy the view. Chloé had long been a distant memory. He was in France, after all. These ladies were in a league of their own.
---
The physio room had a definite antiseptic and eucalyptus scent. Juliette identified the examination table, which was covered with padding, in the middle of the room.
"Shirt off. Sit."
Luc did what he was told and he pulled up his t-shirt and threw it onto a chair nearby. He had spent the past four years in the college gym, getting his frame as light, muscled and sound as possible for speed, balance and catching hits.
He caught her eyes on his abs for just a moment, before she went back to professionalism.
Then she pulled a stethoscope from around her neck and said, "Lie back."
She bent her head over him. She reeked of vanilla and something spicy and citrus. Her fingers were cold on his skin, listening to his heart beat and checking his breathing.
Her face was inches from his and she remarked, "Your resting heart rate is very low." Her face barely inches from his. "You shouldn’t even be alive," she said jokingly.
"I’m just relaxed," Luc said, his eyes locked on her as he spoke quietly. "It takes a lot to make my heart beat fast."
Juliette raised her brow, stepped back and made a quick note on her clipboard. "Rude. I heard you did it to Coach Henri yesterday as well. Arrogance is bad, but confidence... confidence is good. The defenders in Ligue Alpha will break a leg if you try to show him up. They don’t like flash or arrogance."
Luc smirked, "They have to catch me first."
Her eyes rolled, but there was a smidgen of a smile on her lips. "Medical is clear; show them what you’ve got, but if they roll you up into the dirt, don’t come crying to me for an ice pack."
"I’ll remember that, Juliette", Luc said as he put his shirt back on and jumped down from the table. He stopped at the door and leaned on the door frame. "But if I score a hat trick today, maybe I’ll take you out for dinner."
There was a big laugh from Juliette, a true throaty laugh that reverberated in the still room. "If you get a hat trick at practice against our starting defense, then I’ll pay for dinner. Get out of here."
He left the room, forgetting a crucial part of his new life.
[System Notification]
[Objective: Score a hatrick against the starting defense]
[Reward: 5 Skill Points]
[Penalty: Termination of contract]
Luc stopped dead in his tracks. "Termination of contract?" how would a hallucination pull that off.
---
It was still early morning and the grass was still wet with morning mist. Coach Henri blew his whistle.
"Alright! Starters in yellow bibs, reserves in blue bibs. Beaumont, in blue. Up top."
Luc pulled on the blue mesh over his head. The reserve squad was in poor form. They were the guys who played with no confidence,. They were the bench warmers, the guys who didn’t see many minutes. The starting eleven was up against them, with captain Mateo sporting the tattoo and caps armband.
The drill was simple. A full-pitch scrimmage.
Henri blew his whistle. The Yellow team immediately seized control. They were quicker and more organized and more ruthless in their passing. It was a shadow game for the first 10 minutes with the reserves finding the very little of the ball.
Luc remained high up the pitch as he observed the starting center-backs. One was large and sluggish, using only sheer force. The other was quick but didn’t have a sense of location. They could easily be defeated.
"Hey!" Luc shouted at his reserve midfielder, a skinny kid who was afraid of the ball. "Stop passing backward! Look up!"
Two minutes later, the scrawny midfielder received a clumsy pass. He was instantly frightened and turned around for his own keeper who would heave the ball away.
"Here!" "Look over there," Luc said the kid, pointing towards space.
The kid blindly hit the ball forward. A terrible pass, that was dropped unevenly across the field, aimed squarely at the big, slow center-back.
The defender rushed over to clear it, and grinned.
Luc exploded. He didn’t jog; he went from zero to a full sprint in two strides. He reached the ball a split second before the massive defender swung his leg, toe-poking the ball directly through the man’s legs.
A nutmeg. ƒreewebɳovel.com
The defender roared in frustration, spinning clumsily to give chase, but Luc was already gone.
He was through on goal. The keeper came rushing out off his line to close the angle.
