Soccer System: All the Skills, One Player!

"If we tense up, they win. If we run like crazy, we lose. Let's play like we know how. Let's remember why we're here," said Lucas Tanaka.

Felix was the first to react. The midfielder, who usually seemed like an unshakeable fortress, was clenching his fists. He looked at Lucas, his expression a mixture of doubt and determination. "Do you think we still have a chance? Without Denis, they're suffocating us."

"Chance?" Lucas replied, holding Felix's shoulder firmly. "We are the chance. You're the pillar of this midfield, Felix. Our captain. I need you to trust your game. If you give in, the rest falls apart. But if you fight, we'll all fight."

Felix took a deep breath, the words penetrating his insides. He knew Lucas was right. He was the team's shield, the balance between defense and attack. "All right," he said, more to himself than to Lucas. "Let's do it."

Off to the side, Raphael was adjusting his ankle brace, his distant gaze fixed on the ground. He didn't need to say anything; Lucas could feel the doubt consuming him. Raphael, always explosive, seemed hesitant, as if he were carrying an invisible weight.

"Raphael," Lucas called, approaching him. The winger raised his head, surprised by his tone. "You're our most explosive player. When you pick up the ball and run, things happen. Don't think about what could go wrong, think about what you can do. Be the player Marcelli saw from the stands in the game against City. What do you think she wants to see now on the online broadcast?"

A slight blush appeared on Raphael's face, and he gave a small smile. "She'll see, Lucas. She'll see."

Further on, Miguel looked isolated, kicking the grass of the corner with his boots. Lucas knew Miguel was talented, but also young like everyone else on the pitch, and that he needed confidence to shine. He approached and put a hand on the winger's shoulder.

"Miguel, you're fast, but you don't have to do everything yourself. Trust me. If I throw the ball in, you know what to do. Simple. No complications."

Miguel nodded. "You can count on me."

When the team finally positioned themselves in the corner, Lucas saw something different in his teammates. It wasn't as if the tiredness had disappeared, but there was something deeper, a rekindling flame. He turned to coach Eddie, who just nodded from afar, acknowledging his efforts to motivate the team.

The referee blew the whistle, and Miguel prepared to take the corner. The ball came in high, spinning towards the heart of the box.

Arthur rose higher than the opposing defenders and headed the ball in with force. However, the opposing goalkeeper, well-positioned, made an impressive save, keeping the ball out of the area.

Lucas rushed out to grab the rebound. He controlled the ball with precision, pivoted to avoid a marker, and quickly played it to Felix. The midfielder lifted his head and, in an agile move, laid the ball off to Miguel on the right wing.

Miguel ran like an arrow, dribbling past the opposing full-back with a quick touch. When it looked like he was going to cross, he cut inside, leaving another marker behind. He looked into the area, but opted to lay the ball back to Lucas, who controlled it with class, avoiding the pressure of two opponents. He raised his head and made a low pass to Javier, who was near the edge of the box.

Javier hesitated for a second, but Lucas' words echoed in his mind. He took a subtle touch to the left, creating space, and shot towards goal. The ball sailed just wide of the post, drawing a collective gasp from all the fans behind the screens.

"That's it!" shouted Lucas, raising his arms. "We're coming! Let's keep up the pressure!"

Brighton, after moments of uncertainty, was finding their rhythm again, withstanding the pressure of the mighty Dortmund U-20s. The German side was meticulous, disciplined and, above all, dangerous in quick transitions, but Brighton seemed determined not to give in.

In UEFA's official broadcasting studio, the main narrator, Michael Collins, followed every detail with enthusiasm.

"What a match we've got here today, eh, Peter?" he said, as a camera focused on the determined face of Lucas Tanaka, who was organizing the team in midfield after Javier's shot. "This young man from Brighton seems to be everywhere. He got the rebound, started the counter-attack and even supported the build-up play."

"That's right, Michael," replied Peter Gallagher, the commentator, in his deep, measured voice. "And there's something interesting about this, lad. Our field crew caught a fascinating interaction before this corner. Let's hear what our on-field commentator, David Moore, has to say."

The broadcast cut to David, who was positioned at the side of the pitch, next to coach Eddie. He was dressed in a smart overcoat, but his expression was animated and engaging.

"Yes, Michael, I was right next to the Brighton bench and I could hear Lucas Tanaka talking to his teammates. It was incredible. Not only did he encourage Felix to pull himself together, he also gave Raphael and Miguel confidence. He practically acted like a captain without the armband. He spoke with authority, but without arrogance. I'd say it's rare to see something like that in a young man of just 16."

Michael laughed softly, puzzled. "Wait, 16? Is that right, David?"

"Exactly. And he's a foreigner, a Japanese in a completely unique environment from what he's probably used to. Even so, he shows impressive leadership. I'd say it's innate. He doesn't wait for others to take responsibility. He takes them on himself, which is surprising in such young players, especially from more reserved cultures like Japan."

Peter intervened, adding enthusiastically: "You know, Michael, there's something special about leaders like Lucas. He has the maturity of someone with years of experience, but the energy of a kid hungry for victory. It's a powerful combination."

Michael nodded. "And maybe that's what Brighton needs now. A spark, someone to inspire the others to fight to the end against an opponent as strong as Dortmund U20."

Meanwhile, on the pitch, Lucas continued his tireless work. Dortmund, for their part, stuck to their well-structured strategy, exploiting the speed of their winger and the technical talent of their midfield.

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In the 38th minute, Dortmund had a moment of brilliance. A quick exchange of passes in midfield disarmed Brighton's first line of pressure.

Dortmund's No. 10 received the ball on the left wing. He was surrounded by Loki and Felix, but didn't seem intimidated. With a sudden change of direction, he passed between the two players, leaving them planted on the ground.

"Look at that!" exclaimed Michael on the broadcast. "What an extraordinary talent! He makes it look so easy."

Sancho advanced towards the box, but Lucas appeared like lightning, gliding across the pitch to cut the ball out with surgical precision.

Lucas quickly picked up, regaining possession and releasing Raphael on the left wing. The counter-attack was fast, but Dortmund reorganized themselves in time to avert the danger.

"That's leadership in action!" said Peter enthusiastically. "He not only organizes the team but also executes when necessary."

Towards the end of the second half, the No10 received a long pass on the left wing. He controlled it elegantly and immediately set about Loki, who was trying to hold his position. With a series of short dribbles, he left the full-back completely out of position and advanced towards the penalty area. Then he did something unexpected. He faked a cross with his right leg, but cut inside, dribbling past two more Brighton defenders who were coming towards him.

The area seemed too small to contain his creativity. He shifted the ball onto his right foot and, with a placed shot, sent the ball into Anton's left-hand corner.

"GOOOOOOLAAAAH!" shouted Michael, as the stadium filled with applause.

The game resumed, and Brighton continued to press, determined to write their own history in that match. However, although the difference was only one goal, they had little time. Their first defeat as Team-A came in this bitter game, marked by a serious injury to a teammate and a mountain of emotions.

The final whistle echoed through the stadium like a deaf thunderclap, momentarily drowning out the sounds of everything else and leaving a strange, heavy silence in the air.

The score read 3-2 to Dortmund U-20. Brighton was motionless, as if time had stopped.

Lucas Tanaka, at the center of it all, felt his legs go weak.

But he didn't fall. He wouldn't allow it.

The Japanese boy looked up, taking a deep breath. A thousand thoughts flooded his mind in an instant. He saw flashes of the game: Anton's miraculous saves, Raphael's run, Felix's passes and Javier's near-post shot. But above all, he saw all the chances he missed.

Lucas felt the weight of defeat like a stone in his chest, but something inside him refused to give in to desolation. He knew that this was when his team needed him most. So instead of succumbing, he decided.

He applauded.

At first, just once. Then another, louder, and another, until the sound echoed clearly across the pitch. The action was so unexpected that the surrounding players, some with their hands on their heads and others crouched down, looked at him, confused.

Lucas clapped his hands again, and his voice, firm and clear, cut through the air:

"It's all right!" he said, raising his hands so that everyone could hear him. "It's all right! Let's do better next time!"n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Those words, simple but charged with a force that no one expected, seemed to snap the players out of their collective trance. Daniel, who was still kneeling on the pitch, looked up at Lucas, his face sweaty and red from exertion. Aidan, who was staring at the ground, as if looking for answers in his boot prints, also turned to him.

"Raise your heads and look where you are!" Lucas continued, his voice gaining intensity. "Don't look down! You're living a dream! This pitch, this crowd, this moment... this is what we always dream of, isn't it?"

Luiz Fernando, who was on the verge of tears, blinked rapidly and looked up at Lucas.

"Don't be ashamed of defeat! The only thing you have to fear is not facing it with your head held high!" Lucas declared, walking across the pitch as if he wanted to hit each of his teammates with his words.