Chapter 145: [145] "The month of March"
"But you are all asking the wrong questions," Luc continued, projecting his voice to cut through the ensuing chatter. "You’re obsessed with a magazine cover and a deleted tweet. You should be asking about the seventeen-year-old sitting right here. Hugo Blanc just shattered a Ligue Alpha record. Five assists against a low-block defense. That is the story tonight. Not me. Him."
The cameras instantly swiveled, a barrage of flashes exploding in Hugo’s direction. The teenager blinked, momentarily blinded, but then leaned into his own microphone, his face returning to that eerie, robotic composure he utilized on the pitch.
"I just find the open spaces," Hugo said simply, shrugging slightly. "My captain knows how to run into them. It’s simple really."
Henri chuckled softly into his microphone. The press conference had been completely hijacked and directed exactly where Luc wanted it to go.
---
The next morning. Valois complex.
The high of the 5-0 victory had subsided. March was here. Fixtures were compressed within the next thirty days, including a Cup Quarter-Final and the looming, season-defining clash against Phocéen.
Luc was lying face-down on a padded table in the physiotherapy wing. Juliette was working on his spine, her thumbs digging mercilessly into the fascia of his lower back.
"You are carrying too much tension here," Juliette stated, her voice carrying the professional tone she adopted whenever she was on the clock. "If you don’t keep this loose, your mobility will drop by next week."
"I’ll stretch," Luc grunted into the padded face-hole of the table.
"You will do more than stretch." She increased the pressure, forcing a sharp exhale from his lungs. "Forty-five minutes of hydrotherapy today. And I’m scheduling you for dry needling before the bus leaves for Dijon."
Luc didn’t argue. He knew better than to question the head of league-wide health matters when she had her hands directly on his spine.
As she worked, he closed his eyes and summoned TES.
"TES. Store."
[System Notification]
[Balance: 80 General Points | 75 Skill Points]
[Store Accessed]
[Item 1: Endurance Surge | Cost: 30 General Points | Consumable]
[Effect: Eliminates in-match muscle fatigue for 30 minutes. Activatable from the 60th minute onward. Best deployed when the opposition expects you to tire.]
[Item 2: Echo Pass | Cost: 25 Skill Points | Consumable]
[Effect: For one sequence of play, your spatial awareness locks onto your designated playmaker’s intent before the ball is struck. You read the pass before it happens. Single activation.]
[Item 3: Predator’s Resolve | Cost: 20 General Points | Consumable]
[Effect: Instantly removes all psychological and minor physical fatigue for a ten-minute window. For late-game surges when the body says stop but the scoreline says otherwise.]
The Endurance Surge was the most urgent purchase. Valérie was demanding he start every match, and Henri relied on his physical presence to anchor the 4-3-3 shape. He couldn’t be gassing out in the final twenty minutes of grinding fixtures. His legs needed to still be functional late in the eighty-fifth minute.
The Echo Pass was something different entirely. Not a physical upgrade. A perceptual one. Combining it with Hugo Blanc’s already frightening vision would turn a single sequence into something opponents had no tactical answer for. If he knew exactly where Hugo was putting the ball before the teenager even kicked it, defenders wouldn’t just be a step behind. They’d be obsolete for that moment.
"Purchase Endurance Surge, Echo Pass."
[Transaction Complete: -30 GP, -25 SP]
[Balance: 50 General Points | 50 Skill Points]
[Consumables added to inventory.]
[Endurance Surge ×1 | Echo Pass ×1]
"Predatory aura?"
[Yes]
[25 General Points for 2x]
"Purchase."
[Transaction Complete: -25 GP]
[Balance: 25 General Points | 50 Skill Points]
[Consumable added to inventory.]
[Endurance Surge ×1 | Echo Pass ×1 | Predatory Aura ×2]
"Your muscle tissue just relaxed," Juliette said, pausing her massage. She sounded genuinely surprised. "Whatever mental trick you just did to drop your tension, keep doing it."
"Just focusing on the next match," Luc lied smoothly into the padding.
---
Upstairs, in the glass-enclosed executive suite overlooking the training pitches, Valérie Laurent sat behind her massive desk, surrounded by quarterly financial reports, television viewership metrics, and social media engagement analytics.
Sitting across from her was Henri. The manager looked exhausted, clutching a cup of black coffee like a life raft.
"The numbers are staggering," Valérie said, tapping a manicured nail against a specific chart. "Merchandise sales featuring Beaumont’s name have increased by three hundred percent since the magazine hit the stands. The 5-0 against Alsace solidified the narrative. The market believes we are the apex of French football right now."
"We are playing well," Henri agreed cautiously.
Valérie’s dark eyes pinned him to his chair. "Playing well is not the objective. Total domination is. We have Dijon away soon. I want maximum points. I want Beaumont scoring multiples. Phocéen has an easy run of fixtures this month. Fresko will score. Luc must outpace him."
"Valérie." Henri set his cup down. "We are entering fixture congestion. Dijon are fighting their own battle in the league table. Desperate teams play a certain type of football. If I play Luc for ninety minutes in every match this month---I need to rotate him. Give Idriss minutes. Keep the squad fresh."
Valérie leaned back in her leather chair, steepling her fingers.
"You will not bench the current face of the league. The sponsors pay to see him. The broadcasters schedule our matches in prime time to see him. He starts."
"He is twenty-one years old!" Henri argued, his protective instinct flaring. "He takes knocks every week. If he suffers an injury against Dijon, your entire commercial empire collapses even before the Phocéen match."
Valérie stared at him for a long moment, the cold mathematics turning behind her eyes.
"He starts against Dijon," she finally compromised, though it sounded like a threat. "If we secure a two-goal lead, you may withdraw him for Idriss. But I want the match secured first. Do not gamble with my points, Henri."
Henri nodded, knowing he had extracted the best possible concession. "Sixty minutes. Understood."