Soccer System: All the Skills, One Player!

The stands shook with the energy of the fans. The fans clapped, sang and shouted, but Arthur hardly heard them. He was fixated on the pitch.

Watching Alan Shearer control the ball was like magic to him. The way the striker kept his head up, always one step ahead of the opposition defense, was mesmerizing.

Shearer advanced, the defenders surrounding him, but he seemed to know exactly what to do. With a subtle touch, he pushed the ball away, struggled for speed, and shot with the inside of his foot. The sound of the ball hitting the net was like music. Explore new worlds at empire

Arthur let out a scream so loud that his throat hurt. "GOOOLL!"

"That's Shearer, my boy!" shouted a gentleman next to him, waving a Brighton scarf.

Arthur looked at his mother. She was smiling, her eyes full of pride at seeing him so excited.

"I'm going to play like that one day, Mom! And I'm going to be England's top scorer!" he said, pointing to the pitch.

She knelt down in front of him, adjusting his scarf to protect him from the cold wind. "I know you will, Arthur. You have the heart and the will. Just don't forget Mom, okay?"

He nodded firmly. He never forgot her words, even now, years later.

Back in the present, Arthur ran towards midfield. The ball was at the feet of Javier, who dribbled masterfully, trying to open up space in the B-Team's defense.

Arthur clenched his fists. He knew he had to get back into the game, put his mistakes behind him. But how? With every wrong shot, he felt further away from that boy who believed anything he wanted was possible.

"Lucas, stick it to him!" shouted Felix, pointing at Javier.

Lucas ran to mark the No10, but Javier quickly passed to Simon on the wing.

Arthur positioned himself further back, trying to predict his next move. Suddenly, Arthur saw Loki disarm Simon with a precise tackle.

The ball fell to Denis, who quickly flicked it on to Miguel. The B-Team's movement was working again and tend towards the attack.

Miguel advanced through the middle, his gaze alert. He raised his head, saw Arthur and shouted:

"Arthur! Get into position! Now!"

Arthur ran, his head held high, trying to find the right space. He noticed the movement of Kevin and Parker, who were already trying to close the way for him. He felt his heart racing, but he didn't stop.

Miguel made the pass at just the right moment, the ball coming in with power and precision.

Arthur latched onto it with his chest, feeling the impact reverberate through his body.

Kevin advanced, trying to take him out of the play with a body block. But Arthur remembered Shearer. He remembered the calm, the confidence. He used his arms to protect the ball and saw a gap. With a firm shot, he sent the ball into the bottom corner of the goal.

Miguel's shout drowned the sound of the ball hitting the net out:

"GOOOOOOOL!"

Arthur raised his arms, a wave of relief and emotion running through him. "That's it..."

His teammates rushed to hug him, smiles on their faces.

"Finally! If you waste any more passes from now on, I'll charge you more!" said Lucas, slapping him on the back.

Arthur smiled, breathless but grateful. He looked over to the bench where coach Eddie and Alex were celebrating, and saw something else. In his mind, his mother was there, smiling, just like that night in Brighton.

"I'll get there, Mom," he muttered to himself, as he walked back to midfield. 'I'll become the player I promised, so you can be proud of me while you watch me from up there. I promise...'

On the other side of the pitch, Ethan watched with his arms crossed. His eyes sparkled with impatience. He wasn't the player to swallow defeat, least of all in a match that, for him, was as important as a final. His position in the A-Team was something he protected with sharp claws, and the idea of being beaten by the B-Team was an insult.

Willian approached, and Ethan, noticing the movement, turned to him, his face already flushed with frustration.

"If you lecture me, you can save your breath," Ethan snapped.

Willian shook his head negatively. He was always serious, almost expressionless.

"I didn't come here for that. I just want to talk about the game."

"Oh, the game," replied Ethan sarcastically, stepping forward. "You want to talk about how those two B-Team defenders are glued to me? They're not even that good, Willian. They're tall, strong, but they don't have enough skill to stop me. It's just bad luck that the ball isn't going where it should."

Willian didn't back down, but took a deep breath before replying.

"Ethan, listen. They may not be Premier League players, but they're not here by chance. They're good. Team-B didn't beat Chelsea by some miracle, and you know it."

Ethan opened his mouth to retort, but Willian held up his hand, interrupting him. "They're writing you off because they've studied you. They know how you play, they know your movement. And yes, they're tall, but that's not a weakness. It's an advantage they're using against you."

"So what do you suggest, genius?" replied Ethan impatiently. "That I do what? Leave the area and cross balls for you?

Willian tilted his head, his gaze sharp. "Actually, yes. That's exactly what I'm suggesting. You know we have more chances if we reverse. You open up space, attract the marking, and I come on as a center-forward. They're not expecting that. They're good, but everyone makes mistakes when they're surprised."

Ethan laughed humorlessly. "And I run around like an idiot to make room for you, is that it? You think you can do my job better than me?"

"It's not about who's better or worse, Ethan," said Willian, his tone firmer now. "It's about winning. And if you stop thinking about your ego for a second, you'll realize that this is the best chance we have. I'm not asking you to hand over your position once and for all. I'm asking you to do what's best for the team."

Ethan was silent for a few seconds, his eyes searching for something in Willian's face that he could dispute. But he found nothing but implacable certainty. He knew Willian was right. Willian was some kind of freakishly good Dutch soccer genius. The problem was admitting it.

"You talk like it's easy," muttered Ethan, reluctantly. "But I won't forget it."

Willian stepped forward, coming face to face with him. "You don't have to forget it. You just need to do the right thing now. If we lose today, it won't just be one game. Imagine playing the whole season in just the minor leagues."

Ethan looked at the field. The B-Team players were returning from celebrating.

Felix was gesturing to reorganize the defense, and Lucas was talking to Denis about the next move. They didn't look tired. They looked motivated.

"That's good," said Ethan at last. "But if it goes wrong, I'll make sure I remember whose idea it was."

Willian nodded without smiling. "It'll work. Now go to the far right and leave it to me."

As Ethan walked to his new position, Willian looked at Coach Jimenez on the sidelines.

The coach was watching everything intently, but didn't interfere. He knew the players needed to find their own solutions during this match.

The game restarted, and Team-A showed clear signs of the change in strategy.

Ethan moved out wide, drawing the attention of Luiz Fernando and Aidan. The number nine, although reluctant, used his speed and technique to attract the marking.

In the middle, Willian took up the position of center forward. He looked comfortable there, as if he had been born for it.

The crosses started coming in, one after the other, and the Time-B defense felt the pressure.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Loki tried to mark Simon, but the winger managed a dangerous cross. The ball came in high, falling into the area. Willian went up, using all his strength and skill to challenge Daniel. He couldn't finish because he was shorter, but the ball fell to Ethan, who shot for the first time.

Anton made a spectacular save, but the rebound fell to Javier. The No10 didn't hesitate and shot for the goal. The ball hit the post, but the A-Team continued to press.

Lucas shouted to his teammates, trying to reorganize the defence. "Come on, guys! We can't let them get into the game!"

Arthur returned to help with the marking to keep the score level, but it was clear that Team-A had found some way to increase their volume of play. The worst part was that no one from Team-B understood what had changed, except for Willian and Ethan's position. That was a simple change.

Then came the decisive moment. Javier made a deep pass to Ethan, who shot in from the side. He wasn't fast; he wasn't skillful. He was tall and awkward with the ball at his feet, but his strength was unbelievable. From the edge of the box, he tried to shoot at the goal, which surprised the goalkeeper.

Anton accidentally deflected the ball into the center of the box because he was startled. The ball passed between the defenders and found Willian, who, with a subtle touch, sent it into the back of the net.

Ethan raised his arms, taking a deep breath. Although reluctant at first, he couldn't deny that the plan had worked.

Willian looked at Ethan as Simon, Javier, and the other players hugged him. It was as if he was saying to the number 9:

"See? This is how it's done."