**Valencia, Spain, October 8, 2025**
The streets of Valencia's old quarter shimmered under a canopy of lanterns, alive with the rhythm of Las Fallas, the city's legendary festival. Bonfires crackled, casting golden flickers across cobblestones, while the air thrummed with music—flamenco guitars, pulsing drums, and the laughter of thousands. Lin Feng wove through the crowd, his casual jeans and white shirt a stark contrast to his Valencia CF kit, his jet-black hair catching the firelight. His hazel eyes, a blend of his Chinese-Spanish heritage, sparkled with a rare lightness. At 18, he was no longer the broken dreamer of his past life. His La Liga hat-trick against Barcelona had ignited global headlines, painting him as a prodigy whose star burned brighter each day.
The [**Supreme Football System**] was his hidden edge, a secret locked in his heart. Its permanent [**Causality Powers**] let him bend the game's rules, while skills like [**Maradona's D10S Touch**] made every touch a masterpiece. With 14,500 [**System Points**], he was a titan in the making. Tonight, though, the system took a backseat. Las Fallas was a chance to live, to savor the city that had cradled his rise.
Lin Feng paused at a street stall, the scent of churros mingling with smoky paella. "These smell like victory," he said to the vendor, his smile easy. The old man chuckled, handing him a paper cone. "For Valencia's hero? On the house."
He grinned, biting into the warm dough, sugar dusting his lips. In his past life, he'd been too consumed by failure to enjoy such moments. Now, he soaked in the city's pulse, every step a celebration of his rebirth.
A familiar voice cut through the crowd. "Lin Feng, eating like a mortal?" Elena Voss emerged, her blonde hair glowing under the lanterns, her red dress vibrant against the night. Her emerald eyes held mischief, a far cry from their usual businesslike spark.
"Even legends need churros," Lin Feng shot back, offering her one. She laughed, accepting it, her fingers brushing his. Their banter was lighter tonight, free from the weight of contracts and scouts.
"You're dodging the festival's heart," she teased, pointing to a plaza where dancers swirled in traditional costumes. "Come on, show me you're not just a footballer."
Lin Feng raised an eyebrow, his [**Charisma Aura**] giving his words a playful edge. "Challenge accepted, but don't cry when I outdance you." Elena's laugh rang out, drawing smiles from passersby. They dove into the plaza, the music pulling them into its orbit.
As they swayed to the beat, Lin Feng's [**Maradona's D10S Touch**] lent him an effortless grace, his movements fluid as if the crowd were a defense to weave through. Elena matched him, her steps bold, their dance a silent conversation of trust and fire. For a moment, he wasn't a prodigy—just a young man alive in Valencia's heart.
The music slowed, and a man approached, his tailored suit clashing with the festival's chaos. His sharp features and graying hair marked him as an outsider, his British accent crisp. "Lin Feng, I presume?" he said, extending a hand. "James Whitaker, *The Guardian*. Your hat-trick at Camp Nou's got the world talking."
Lin Feng shook his hand, his gaze steady. "Good to meet you, James. What's the world saying?" His tone was curious, not arrogant, a shift from his usual defiance.
Whitaker smirked, his eyes glinting with challenge. "They say you're a flash in the pan, a kid who got lucky against Piqué. Care to prove them wrong?"
The jab stung, but Lin Feng's smile didn't waver. In his past life, such words would've crushed him. Now, they were kindling. "They'll eat those words when I lift the Ballon d'Or," he said, his [**Charisma Aura**] making the boast feel inevitable. Elena's eyes gleamed, impressed by his calm.
Whitaker raised an eyebrow, scribbling in a notebook. "Big talk. I'm here for your U-21 trial next week. Spain's youth team's a different beast—players like Pedro Alvarez don't share the spotlight."
Lin Feng's grin sharpened. Pedro Alvarez, Spain's U-21 star striker, was a rival he'd yet to face, known for his ego as much as his goals. "Pedro's about to learn I don't share it either," he said, his voice a quiet storm. Whitaker chuckled, sensing a story brewing.
The [**System**] flickered in his mind:
[**Hidden Mission Unlocked: Earn a Call-Up to Spain's U-21 National Team.**]
[**Reward: 3,500 system points, +2 Influence Points.**]
[**Hidden Mission: Outshine Pedro Alvarez in the U-21 Trial.**]
[**Reward: 2,800 system points, +2 Skill Points.**]
Lin Feng's pulse quickened, but he kept his cool. Whitaker was a gatekeeper of global narratives, and outshining Pedro would amplify his legend. But tonight, he was here to live, not scheme.
Elena tugged his arm, pulling him back to the festival. "Enough shop talk," she said, her tone mock-stern. "You owe me a firecracker show." Lin Feng laughed, letting her lead him to a square where pyrotechnics painted the sky in crimson and gold.
As sparks rained down, a group of kids spotted him, their eyes wide. "It's Lin Feng!" one shouted, clutching a Valencia scarf. They swarmed, begging for autographs. Lin Feng knelt, signing their shirts, his [**Charisma Aura**] making each feel special. "Keep dreaming big," he told a shy boy, ruffling his hair. The kid beamed, clutching his scarf like a treasure.
In his past life, he'd been too bitter to inspire. Now, every smile he sparked was a brick in his empire. The [**System**] chimed softly:
[*Ding!*]
[**Bonus Reward: Inspire Local Youth.**]
[**Reward: 500 system points.**]
[**Total System Points: 15,000**]
Whitaker watched, his pen pausing. "You're more than a footballer," he said, almost to himself. "That's rare." Lin Feng stood, meeting his gaze. "I'm building something bigger than goals, James. Stick around—you'll see."
The journalist nodded, intrigued. Elena leaned close, whispering, "You're winning hearts tonight, not just matches." Her words were warm, a shift from their usual strategic exchanges.
The festival raged on, and Lin Feng joined a street game with locals, a makeshift ball bouncing on cobblestones. His [**Maradona's D10S Touch**] made every touch magical, drawing gasps as he nutmegged a teenager with [**Ronaldinho's Elastico**]. The crowd cheered, filming on their phones, his joy infectious.
A local man, burly and drunk, scoffed from the sidelines. "Big shot thinks he's king," he slurred, loud enough for all to hear. "Bet he's soft off the pitch." The crowd tensed, expecting a brawl.
Lin Feng paused, the ball at his feet, then grinned. "Soft? Let's test that." He kicked the ball to the man, challenging him to a one-on-one. The crowd roared, circling them. The man lunged, clumsy but strong, but Lin Feng danced with [**Messi's La Croqueta**], leaving him sprawling. The onlookers erupted, the man laughing despite his fall.
"Fair play, kid," he said, raising a beer. "You're alright." Lin Feng clapped his shoulder, defusing the tension. The face-slapping was subtle, his victory won with charm, not fists.
As midnight neared, Lin Feng and Elena sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, the festival's glow below. "You're different tonight," she said, her voice soft. "Not the fierce prodigy, just… you."
He looked at the skyline, Valencia's spires aglow. "I spent my last life chasing shadows," he said, his tone reflective, not the usual bravado. "Now, I want to feel the world, not just conquer it."
She nodded, her gaze warm. "Keep that spark, Lin Feng. It's what makes you unstoppable." Their connection deepened, a friendship forged in firelight, not just ambition.
At home in El Carmen, Sofia and Wei waited, the festival's echoes outside. Sofia hugged him, her hazel eyes proud. "You're lighting up Valencia, mijo," she said, showing a festival photo of him with the kids. Wei offered a steaming bowl of wonton soup, his stern face soft. "Live well, Feng, not just big."
Lin Feng's heart swelled, his [**Family Bond Point**] grounding him. In his past life, he'd ignored their wisdom. Now, they were his compass. "I'm living for us," he said, his voice earnest, not a rehearsed vow.
As he lay in bed, the [**System**] flickered:
[**Hidden Mission Unlocked: Score in Spain's U-21 Trial Match.**]
[**Reward: 4,000 system points, +2 Prestige Points.**]
Lin Feng's eyes danced with starlight. Whitaker's challenge, Pedro's shadow, Valencia's pulse—they were threads in his tapestry. The [**System**] was his secret, his empire his destiny. The U-21 trial loomed, and the world would sing his name.
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