Soccer System: All the Skills, One Player!

As Brighton left Liverpool's training grounds, a heavy silence pervaded the dressing room of Liverpool's U18 team.

"Because you weren't marking properly, maybe?" asked Liam, the right-back, throwing his towel on the floor. "That number ten, Miguel, passed a free ten times."

At the other end of the bench, Mason, the team captain, was cleaning his boots without saying a word. He was always the last to speak. When he finally raised his head, the murmurs stopped.

"Let's be honest. We underestimated them. It's as simple as that. They were quick, organized, and played as a team, while we... well, everyone seemed to play on their own."

Nobody wanted to admit it, but he was right. They did win, but they knew they had made a lot of mistakes.

The doors to the dressing room opened, and Coach Ferg walked in. He wasn't a man who needed words to be heard. Wearing a simple suit and holding a clipboard, he looked at each player, one by one, as if he could see beyond their expressions.

"I want you to listen carefully." Ferg placed the clipboard on a table and stepped forward. "You've just won against Brighton. Right? That's good, but I bet you also feel like it's a defeat."

Some of the players looked away, unable to face him.

"Now, here's a detail you might not know yet. This wasn't Brighton's first team. In fact..." Ferg took a deep breath. "... that was the B team."

Jamie let out a nervous laugh, as if he expected it to be a joke. "Wait a minute, are you saying that...?"

"Yes," Ferg interrupted. "You played against the reserve team. What's more, this was their first friendly as a team. They started training a week ago."

"But... they played as if they'd been together for years." Callum said.

"Exactly, and that should scare you who underestimated this training session so much because it was 'just' Brighton and not Milam or Real Madrid. I saw how relaxed they were earlier today. They were even late getting to the pitch. That's why I decided not to tell you anything about their team."

"Okay, but how is that possible? I mean, they were good, yes, but still... it makes little sense."

Mason shook his head negatively. "It's not about individual technique. It's about how they played as a unit. Every pass had a purpose. It's rare to see something like that, especially in a team formed so recently."

"Especially the No. 7, that Tanaka guy. Every time he picked up the ball, he created a move," said one of the players. "Passing, shooting, dribbling, vision... I felt like I was watching a top ten players from a big team playing."

"That's something some of you need to learn from him." Ferg said. "Tanaka wasn't afraid of the ball. He didn't run away from responsibility, he didn't run away from the game. He actually wanted to have received the ball for as long as he could. For that reason, I also want to reveal the data we collected from today... Brighton's possession was 60% against 40% for us. The number of shots on the goal was the same. 10 to 10. However, we gave away more fouls. We gave away 7 compared to 2."

"That says a lot because we're feeling defeated." Jamie said.

-:|:-

Hours later, Brighton's bus rocked gently along the road, the evening sky beginning to give way to complete darkness. Lucas was sitting by the window, his head resting on the cold glass. Outside, the trees and lampposts passed in indistinct blurs, but he barely noticed the movement. His mind was stuck on the pitch, revisiting every second of the friendly against Liverpool.

'I could have made that pass quicker...'

'If I'd looked at Arthur earlier, he would have been free sooner.'

'Why did I hesitate? Why didn't I trust my instincts more?'

These thoughts and many others swirled like an endless spiral in his mind, a cruel and incessant analysis.

Lucas felt a lump in his throat, but he didn't let it turn into tears. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, especially with the noise of conversation and laughter in the background. Some colleagues seemed to have gotten over their defeat, at least temporarily, distracting themselves with jokes or songs playing on their cell phones.

Arthur, sitting two seats back, was animatedly exchanging ideas with Miguel, while Loki and Denis were arguing about a controversial move in the game. Even Aidan, who had been more serious before the game, seemed relaxed now that it was over, sharing a packet of snacks with Anton. However, Lucas didn't feel like joining them.

From time to time, he glanced towards the front of the bus, where Eddie and Alex were sitting, both with tablets in their hands. They seemed immersed in analysis and notes, probably already planning their next training session.

Lucas wished, for a moment, that he had the same objectivity as them. The ability to look at a mistake and immediately turn it into learning. He leaned back against the glass, closing his eyes, but the physical tiredness wasn't enough to silence his mind.

The clock was just over 8 p.m. when the bus finally arrived at the Institute. The yellowish lights of the main building softly illuminated the entrance courtyard as the group descended, carrying their backpacks and equipment.

Lucas got off last, walking slowly. His footsteps echoed on the paved floor, and he looked up, observing the illuminated windows of the dormitories. Each one looked like a rectangle of distant comfort, but he didn't feel worthy of that relief. His mind was still stuck in the field, in the mistakes, in the "what ifs".

Raphael passed him and noticed that Lucas had become more introspective since they left Liverpool's training ground.

"Hey, Lucas, are you okay? You seemed quiet on the bus."

"Just tired," he replied, forcing a half-smile.

That didn't convince Raphael, but it was enough to ward off any more questions.

When Lucas finally reached his room, the silence was almost total. Lucas threw himself on the bed, but sleep didn't come. He stared at the ceiling. Reaching for his cell phone, he opened a video app. He quickly searched for "best passes in soccer" and started watching clips of legendary players. Xavi, Iniesta, Pirlo... the precise, vision-filled passes of these idols left him inspired and, at the same time, even more aware of his own shortcomings.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

As he watched, he remembered Eddie's words in the dressing room:

"No one here handles this defeat alone."

Lucas felt that if he had played better, perhaps the result would have been different. Maybe it would have been enough.

The next morning, Lucas woke up with a heavy head, but determined to change his attitude. During breakfast, he looked for Miguel, who was sitting with Arthur in the central part of the institute's cafeteria. They were third-year students.

"Hey, Miguel. About yesterday..."

"Good morning, Lucas." Miguel took off part of the headphones he was wearing.

"A-ah, yeah. Good morning."

"About yesterday...? What were you about to talk about?"

"That training session you mentioned... when did we start?"

Miguel smiled broadly and tapped the table. "That's it, kid! I thought you'd never ask! How about this afternoon, after the match analysis?"

Arthur looked at Lucas. "That's what we need. Work hard. I want in on this, too."

Felix arrived at that moment, placing the tray next to Arthur. "I heard you. If you're going to work on passing, I want to practice marking to help. There's no point in you making a great pass if I don't get the ball back for you."

-:|:-

In the afternoon, during the match analysis, Eddie conducted the session with a calmer tone than he usually used in his tough training sessions. He showed mistakes, but also highlighted the positives, always remembering that each player was part of something bigger.

When the session was over, Lucas, Miguel, Arthur and Felix gathered on the training pitch. In the sunshine, they started practicing short and long passes, working on communication and timing. At first, the mistakes piled up, largely because Lucas couldn't hit the ball the way he wanted to.

As he had used his cell phone to record the training sessions, he asked for a break to drink some water and analyze the videos. So he did. However, the more he watched the videos, the more frustrated he became with himself.

Miguel wanted passes between the defense, Arthur wanted perfect crosses like the one Lucas was lucky to hit during the game and Felix said he'd also like to receive passes as often as he did for that great goal of his that opened the scoring for Brighton. They were three different types of pass and all very difficult.

Luckily, Lucas Tanaka wasn't alone in this game.

[Training Mission 'Quality Passes' obtained].

[Training Mission: Quality Passes.

Description: You're not good enough at passing and you have no easy way of learning, yet.

Objectives:

0/100 Diagonal passes

0/100 Cross passes

0/50 Perfect crosses

0/70 Goal assists

Rewards:

+1 Legendary Loot Box.

+1 Assimilation Feature.]