Alicante, Spain, October 15, 2025
The Mediterranean sun kissed the horizon, painting Alicante's coastal training camp in hues of amber and sapphire. The Spain U-21 national team trial unfolded on a cliffside pitch, waves crashing below, the salt air sharp with promise. Lin Feng stood among the hopefuls, his red-and-yellow training kit catching the breeze, his olive skin aglow with sweat. His hazel eyes, a fusion of his Chinese-Spanish heritage, burned with a quiet ferocity. At 18, he was no echo of his past life's failures. His La Liga hat-trick at Camp Nou had set the world alight, a prodigy now vying for a U-21 call-up under the gaze of national selectors.
The [**Supreme Football System**] was his hidden edge, a secret no one—teammates, coaches, or Elena Voss—could glimpse. Its permanent [**Causality Powers**] and skills like [**Maradona's D10S Touch**] made him a force beyond his D-Grade talent. With 14,500 [**System Points**], he was poised to claim the national stage. Today, the system would weave its magic subtly, his brilliance a tapestry of skill, not a divine reveal.
His rival was Pedro Alvarez, Spain's U-21 star striker, a 20-year-old with a lion's mane of brown curls and amber eyes that radiated arrogance. Pedro's flair had earned him a Real Madrid contract, but his ego was legend—he'd once called trialists "stepping stones" in a live stream. In Lin Feng's past life, Pedro was a distant star. Today, Lin Feng would dim his light.
The [**System**] flickered in his mind:
[**Mission: 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.**]
[**Mission: Score in Spain's U-21 Trial Match.**]
[**Reward: 4,000 system points, +2 Prestige Points.**]
Lin Feng's grin was a spark in the dusk. Outshine Pedro and secure the call-up? He'd make Alicante's cliffs echo his name, keeping the [**System**] veiled. His dominance would dazzle as talent, not a cheat.
The trial squad huddled, their faces taut with ambition. A lanky midfielder, Diego Ruiz, nudged Lin Feng. "Ready to steal Pedro's crown, Feng?" His grin was infectious, a contrast to Soler's seasoned nods. Lin Feng's [**Charisma Aura**] flared, his voice warm. "Let's carve our names into this pitch, Diego." The team laughed, their nerves easing, a new dynamic born.
Coach Javier Sánchez, a wiry man with a hawk's gaze, clapped his hands. "Lin Feng, you're starting as attacking midfielder. Alvarez is our spearhead, but I want fire from you. Show me you're national material."
Lin Feng nodded, his tone sharp yet respectful. "You'll see a blaze, Coach." Sánchez's eyes narrowed, intrigued. In his past life, Lin Feng was invisible. Now, he was a comet.
The trial match began, a scrimmage against a local senior side, the selectors watching from a cliffside stand. Pedro Alvarez strutted up top, his curls bouncing, his voice loud. "Feed me, Feng, and maybe you'll make the cut," he called, smirking.
Lin Feng's eyes glinted, his retort cool. "I'll feed you dust, Pedro." The squad chuckled, Pedro's smirk twitching, the stage set for a duel.
The whistle blew, and the pitch became a battlefield. The senior side pressed hard, their tackles gritty, testing the youths' mettle. Lin Feng flowed like the tide, his [**Steel Body**] shrugging off challenges, his [**Eagle Vision**] cutting through their defense.
In the 6th minute, a teammate passed to Lin Feng. Pedro demanded the ball, but Lin Feng ignored him, using [**Maradona's D10S Touch**] to control it with velvet precision. He spun past a defender with [**Ronaldinho's Elastico**], then activated [**Perfect Pass**], threading a 25-yard ball to Diego, whose shot grazed the post. The selectors murmured, Pedro's jaw tightening.
The seniors countered, their striker forcing a save. Lin Feng dropped back, his [**Beckenbauer's Iron Wall**] instincts intercepting a pass, earning a nod from Sánchez. Diego clapped his back, their bond growing. "You're a wall, Feng!"
In the 12th minute, Lin Feng struck. A clearance fell to him, and he used [**Pirlo's Deep Playmaker**] to slow the tempo, baiting the defense. Pedro waved for a pass, but Lin Feng surged, dodging a tackle with [**Messi's La Croqueta**]. He entered the 18-yard box, the [**Causality Power**] flaring—[*All shots within the 18-yard box score*]. His shot, fueled by [**Thunder Strike**], was a laser, ripping past the keeper.
1–0.
The trial squad roared, Diego mobbing Lin Feng. Pedro's face darkened, his spotlight stolen. Lin Feng jogged back, his expression calm, the [**System**]'s magic unseen. To the selectors, he was a prodigy; to himself, a strategist.
The seniors equalized in the 20th minute, a header slipping past the keeper. Pedro seized the moment, weaving through to score a solo goal, 2–1, and celebrated with a theatrical bow. "That's how it's done, Feng!" he shouted, his ego blazing.
Lin Feng's heart burned, the [**Hidden Mission**] alight—outshine Pedro. One goal wasn't enough; he needed to eclipse him utterly.
In the 28th minute, Lin Feng orchestrated a masterpiece. Valencia's trialists won possession, and he dropped deep, using [**Iniesta's Tiki-Taka**] to link passes with [**Perfect Pass**] precision. Pedro marked him, but Lin Feng feinted with [**Zidane's Roulette**], leaving him lunging. He launched a 40-yard pass with [**Xavi's Maestro Vision**], splitting the defense for a winger to score.
2–2.
The selectors leaped to their feet, Diego cheering. Pedro's face was thunder, his arrogance cracked. Lin Feng's grin was subtle, a silent challenge. The [**System**] chimed:
[*Ding!*]
[**Hidden Mission Progress: Outshine Pedro Alvarez (50% Complete).**]
The first half ended, the score level. In the dugout, Sánchez was animated. "Lin Feng, you're a spark! Keep burning!" Diego grinned, tossing him a water bottle. "You're making Pedro sweat, amigo." Lin Feng laughed, his reply light. "Good. He needs the workout." The banter was fresh, their camaraderie a new shade.
The second half was a crucible. The seniors pressed, Pedro pushing for glory, his shots testing the keeper. Lin Feng was a conductor, his [**Steel Body**] defying fouls, his [**Pirlo's Deep Playmaker**] dictating play. In the 55th minute, he intercepted a pass with [**Beckenbauer's Iron Wall**], sprinting forward. Pedro fouled him, earning a yellow, but Lin Feng rose, unfazed.
A free kick was awarded 30 yards out. Lin Feng took it, using [**Thunder Strike**], the ball soaring with a wicked curve, kissing the crossbar before nestling in the net.
3–2.
The trial squad erupted, Diego lifting Lin Feng in a bear hug. Pedro's face was ash, his crown slipping. The selectors scribbled furiously, Sánchez nodding. The [**System**] sang:
[*Ding!*]
[**Mission Complete: Score in Spain's U-21 Trial Match.**]
[**Reward: 4,000 system points, +2 Prestige Points.**]
[**Total System Points: 18,500**]
The match ended 3–2, Lin Feng's free kick the decider. Sánchez approached, his voice firm. "You're in, Feng. U-21 call-up confirmed." The squad cheered, Diego slapping his back. Pedro slunk away, his ego bruised, another rival felled.
[*Ding!*]
[**Mission Complete: Earn a Call-Up to Spain's U-21 National Team.**]
[**Reward: 3,500 system points, +2 Influence Points.**]
[**Hidden Mission Complete: Outshine Pedro Alvarez in the U-21 Trial.**]
[**Reward: 2,800 system points, +2 Skill Points.**]
[**Total System Points: 24,800**]
Lin Feng opened the [**System Shop**], its glow a private beacon. He typed "skills":
- [**Neymar's Rainbow Flick (+25% Trickery)**]: 700 points.
- [**Cruyff's Phantom Turn (+30% Agility)**]: 2,500 points.
He chose [**Cruyff's Phantom Turn**], spending 2,500 points. A surge of agility coursed through him, his body now a blade of precision. With 22,300 points, he was ready for the U-21 stage.
---
That evening, the trial squad celebrated at a beachside taverna, Alicante's waves a soothing hymn. Lin Feng joined Diego and others, sharing plates of grilled octopus and sangria. "To the U-21!" Diego toasted, his grin wide. Lin Feng raised his glass, his reply heartfelt. "To new battles, amigos." The laughter was warm, a moment of life savored.
A local guitarist strummed a flamenco, and Lin Feng, caught in the rhythm, joined locals dancing on the sand. His [**Maradona's D10S Touch**] lent his steps a footballer's grace, earning cheers. In his past life, he'd shunned such joy, too consumed by failure. Now, he embraced the world's pulse.
Elena Voss texted, her words glowing: "U-21 call-up? You're unstoppable, Lin Feng. Meet me in Madrid soon—big plans." He replied, "Bet on it," his heart light, their dynamic evolving beyond strategy.
At home in El Carmen, Sofia and Wei awaited with tapas and Chinese fried rice. Sofia hugged him, her eyes proud. "Spain's U-21, mijo? You're soaring!" Wei's stern face softened, offering a rare smile. "Live boldly, Feng, not just for glory."
Lin Feng's heart warmed, his [**Family Bond Point**] grounding him. "I'm living for us," he said, his voice soft, not a grand vow. In his past life, he'd lost them to ambition. Now, they were his anchor.
As he lay in bed, the [**System**] flickered:
[**Hidden Mission Unlocked: Debut for Spain's U-21 Team and Score.**]
[**Reward: 4,500 system points, +2 Prestige Points.**]
Lin Feng's eyes gleamed like the Mediterranean stars. Pedro Alvarez was another shadow surpassed.