Football singularity-Chapter 361 John Cena

Please vote to show me your support for the story the higher we climb in the rankings the more motivated I will feel. Mass releases will be rewarded for each 10 rankings we manage to climb.

~~~

’Well, Shit!’ was the only thing that popped into his mind as he read through all the system notifications. He had been complaining about the lacklustre offerings in the system shop for a while despite the fact how cheap the products were. However, now the system was saying those were just beginner prices annoying him to some extent.

{Well, what did you expect? You should have guessed as much just by looking at the bottleneck you hit in upgrading some of your stats.} Eva commented sounding rather amused earning her a disgruntled rant from her host.

’I’m not saying it’s your fault but a little hint, you know a wink, nudge, would have been helpful. Basically, what I am saying is Siri would have reminded me,’ Rakim retorted as he walked through the corridors heading for the private parking lot meant for staff and players.

{Don’t compare me to that primitive excuse for an AI, I gave you every opportunity to ask me.} She retorted in an indignant tone before continuing her rant, {it’s not my fault that you didn’t have the brain cells to do so, why do you think I’m here other than cleaning up after you?}

’Sigh, at least your cousin Google knows how to give suggestions, you should take a page out of her operating manual,’ he replied still sounding dejected but inwardly he knew just how much he liked messing with her. She sounded surprisingly human whenever they got into one of their arguments, even though both knew it was all in good fun.

{You know maybe you are right,} she responded out of left field catching him off guard almost causing him to trip just as he exited the BayArena. {I should probably start charging you for some of my services, you know you get what you pay for type thing,}

Her tone sounded calm but to Rakim, the mere notion of it sounded horrible as he could already imagine how much SP would go down the drain. Even though he hardly spent it allowing him to save up quite a bit over the years only spending it on something he actually needed and wanted like his Bronze Heavy artillery (Active) skill. However, if he started paying for information, he would quickly go broke given the amount of useful info she gives him daily.

’Alright you win, no AI has anything on you, you are truly a mighty lady Eva continue to grace me with your wisdom,’ He quickly replied as he started looking for his ride expecting May to pop into his vision any moment. {(Hmpf) Good that you know,}

---

[Ding: SINGULARITY SHOP (Open)]

[Skills]

- Bronze Level Dead Ball Specialist: 500->1000 Sp (Active Skill)

- Silver Level Goal Sense: 7,200 -> 15,000 Sp (Active Skill)

- Emperor’s eye: 25,000 ->100,000 Sp (Passive)

.

.

.

- Bronze Strong Handle: 20,000sp (Passive) *new*

[Training Consumable]

Blue Energy Drink: 100 -> 200 Sp (Gives 50 -> 20% more energy) 2hr -> 3hr Duration

Hunters Focus fruit: 200 ->400 Sp (Increases 15% Focus boosting retention of knowledge and skills) 60 -> 45 minutes duration.

Green Slime Potion: 50 -> 200Sp (Massages the body after an intense training session reducing the risks of injury by 50 -> 25%)

Recovery Potion: 250 -> 400 Sp (Allows the host to Recover from fatigue 50% faster)

(Bronze) Gym Rat Membership: 1,000Sp (Boost training results by 5%)

(Silver) Gym Rat Membership: 4,000Sp (Boost training results by 7.5%)

(Gold) Gym Rat Membership: Requirements not met

(Hall of Fame) Gym Rat Membership: Requirements not met

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

[Trait Store]

Iron Man Requirement: S-grade Stamina and Strength 25,000 SP

Flair Requirement: A+ Grade Agility and Speed 30,000 SP

.

.

.

Trapping Mastery Requirement: SS Football Technique Price: 150,000 SP

---

’Hey, Eva you can see this too, right?’ were Rakim’s first thoughts after quickly scanning through the system’s new shop. Tumultuous amounts of emotions and thoughts ran through his mind but in the forefront was one word ’fuck’.

{Yes,} was all she had to say sounding rather professional almost like the response you’d get from a customer service rep after spending 2 hours waiting. ’Don’t ’Yes’ me, tell me why the systems decided to hike the prices that much.’

He was clearly flabbergasted by the situation but part of him was also excited by the thought of colourfully skills in front of him. Just two or three of them could turn an average player into a star as long as they put in the work. And if he was being honest, he felt the prizes were quite reasonable when looking at what the skills did, but part of him couldn’t help but feel like his wages needed to match the inflation rate.

After all, he could at best earn around 500 to 700 sp per match on average which practically made him a beggar in the eyes of the system. Thus, he felt the urge to pick up a megaphone and start marching down the system’s virtual streets and protest for an increase in his SP wages. That was only a passing thought though as he saw no need to stress himself out over things he couldn’t afford, plus it’s not like he minded learning skills the normal way.

A perfect example is his set piece skills which he spent gruelling hours perfecting and optimizing for use in different situations. The Bronze Heavy artillery skill only came later when he realised the limitation in power that his growing body had in long-range shots. It was more of a security measure so that he wouldn’t over-exert his body trying to put power into a shot.

{It is what it is Rakim, don’t worry though future quests will have more lucrative rewards probably.}

~~~

[Sunday 18/08/2019, 12:15, Location: Ciudad Deportiva de Paterna Valencia]

[Matteo Smith Pov]

Matteo drummed his fingers on the glass table, his gaze shifting between the sparkling water in front of him and the distant outline of the training pitches. A cluster of first-team players jogged in unison, their laughter carried faintly by the breeze through the open window as they went through extra training. He’d been out there once, wearing the first team’s colours, even if only for a fleeting fifteen minutes against Alavés. That moment felt more like a tease now—a cruel glimpse of a dream slipping further out of reach.

Oliver Burke, seated across from him, leaned back in his chair, his tailored suit almost too pristine for the informal lounge setting. His phone buzzed on the table, almost constantly as his busy schedule continued to call for his attention. Matteo’s restlessness wasn’t lost on him as his client had been irritated since he got here.

"Matteo," Oliver began, his voice steady but tinged with concern, "you’ve been quiet since I got here. What’s going on?"

Matteo sighed, running a hand through his tousled dark hair. "What’s going on?" he repeated, his tone heavy with sarcasm. "What’s going on is that I’m rotting on the depth chart, or worse, not even making the squad. Meanwhile, Rakim whom you pitted me against to boost your agency’s visibility debuts for Leverkusen delivering an assist and scores. Did you see the highlights?"

Oliver’s lips curved into a thin smile. "Of course I did. He’s on a run nothing more, you are a special forward, Matteo. I wouldn’t have invested in you if I didn’t believe in your talent more than his now, would I?"

Matteo’s eyes narrowed at Oliver, his fingers curling into fists on the table. "Belief doesn’t get me minutes on the pitch, Oliver. Belief doesn’t put me in the headlines or get scouts to notice me. Belief doesn’t get me out of this reserve hellhole while he’s out there basking in the spotlight."

Oliver leaned forward, his calm exterior still intact, but there was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Patience, Matteo. You’re eighteen. Do you know how many players would kill to be in your position? At Valencia, no less? Maxi Gómez won’t last forever; his style doesn’t even suit Valencia’s long-term play. You just need to bide your time."

"Bide my time?" Matteo barked, pushing his chair back slightly. "That’s what they’ve been telling me for months. Meanwhile, Rakim at barely 16 receives more trust from his team than I do at 18. He’s out there taking chances and making a name for himself. The same Rakim who, by the way, you fumbled after he got shot, now the fans think I’m a joke because of your media shenanigans,"

.

.

.

.

To Be Continued...