Friday’s training session was noticeably lighter than the previous days, focusing mostly on tactical work and set piece routines. David went over Derby’s strengths in careful detail, explaining how they liked to press high up the pitch and play direct balls forward to their tall strikers.

The session took place under a grey Middlesbrough sky, the kind that threatened rain but never quite delivered. Will listened closely to every word, asking a couple of thoughtful questions about dropping deeper to help build play from the back when the press came on strong. The coaches appreciated the engagement and David nodded approvingly at his input, making a small note on his clipboard.

After the main session ended Will kept his extra individual work short and smart. He did some rebounder wall reps to sharpen his first touch and a few dribbling drills through cones in the backyard at home. He made sure not to push too hard. There was no point carrying any unnecessary tiredness into match day. When he finished he drank a recovery potion right there in the backyard, feeling the familiar cool relief wash through his body almost instantly. His muscles relaxed and the slight stiffness from the morning work disappeared completely.

The evening at home felt quiet in a good way. He ate dinner with the full family around the table and they kept the conversation easy and light hearted. His dad talked about some of the old games he used to watch when he was younger, sharing stories about players who came through tough situations and eventually made it. Gary’s voice carried that quiet pride as he looked at Will across the table.

His mum reminded him gently to stay focused and enjoy the moment, making sure his plate was full with extra portions. Janet made a few jokes about him finally being useful to the team but she stayed around the table longer than she usually did, asking actual questions about the lineup and what he expected from Derby. It felt nice, like the family was properly behind him now.

After dinner Will went up to his room fairly early. He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling for a long time, replaying the voicemail from David in his head from all those weeks ago. The cold words that had crushed him that night on the second pitch now felt like a distant memory, something from another life.

The system had given him tools but he knew he had done the hard work himself, pushing through doubt and cold mornings on the training pitches. He checked his stats through the system one last time before deciding on a capsule session. His overall rating sat at 62 now. The credits were building steadily toward that important first potential cap expansion. He set his alarm for an early wake up and closed his eyes for a moment.

"System, time capsule session. Focus on game management and tempo control," he said quietly.

The ding sounded and the white space enveloped him as he lay still on his bed. In the simulated environment he spent ten full hours working on slowing the game down deliberately with sideways passes and short holds, and accelerating it suddenly to catch defenses off guard. The shadow players moved realistically, pressing hard and forcing him to adapt constantly in different match scenarios.

When the session finally ended and he opened his eyes again in his actual bed, only about ten minutes had passed in the real world. He felt the benefits immediately. His mind was sharper from all the deliberate practice, yet his body was rested as if he had simply taken a short nap. He drank a recovery potion right away to lock in the gains and felt completely fresh.

He stayed in bed for a few more minutes, letting the potion do its work, then went downstairs to join the family for a bit. Janet teased him about spending too much time "talking to his imaginary coach" as soon as he sat down on the couch. "You disappear for hours and come back looking like you just woke up from a nap. What kind of training are you really doing out there?"

Will just smiled and shook his head. "The kind that wins games, Janet."

Both his mum and dad could tell something positive was shifting in him. His dad gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder before heading to bed, muttering something about being proud of the fight he was putting in. Will stayed downstairs a little longer, talking with his mum about small things before finally going back up to his room. He lay there thinking about the match, visualizing different scenarios, until sleep took him properly.

The morning of the match arrived clear and bright. Will got up early as always, did some very light technical work at Rockliffe Park just to get the blood flowing and his touch feeling sharp, then returned home for a proper breakfast with the family. They all wished him luck with genuine warmth. His dad gave him a long look full of pride before he left for work. "Go show them what you’ve been working on, son."

Will headed to the ground with the rest of the squad, the bus ride filled with the usual mix of focused quiet and light banter. In the changing room the atmosphere was serious and concentrated. He pulled on his match kit carefully, laced his boots with extra attention, and sat for a moment on the bench letting everything settle in his mind.

David delivered the final team talk with a steady, clear voice that cut through any remaining nerves. "Play your game, trust each other, and take the chances when they come." The players filed out together for the warm-up.

When the warmup was done, the two sets of teams walked out together. Will jogged onto the pitch with the starting eleven, noticing the crowd already filling up the stands around Rockliffe. He took his position as the number ten and stood there, heart steady, waiting for the referee’s whistle. This was the moment he had fought for. This was it.

A/N:

This is probably going to be the last free Chapter, and I once again wanted to say thank you to everyone that’s read so far, and to everyone that’s left a comment or voted. It really means a lot and it encourages me to write more when I see that type of support.

Remember guys:

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