Zachary let himself step off the treadmill when the sweat settled on his skin as newly melted snow crystals. His legs were empty—and there was a rising feeling of nausea from his stomach.


    It never ceased to amaze him how the muscles that had been working so hard only seconds ago were then struggling to hold his weight. He rxed for a few seconds before jumping on the exercising machine once again to restart the high-intensity routine.


    Zachary only had that single exercise remaining toplete the system mission he had been toiling with for over a year.


    He was d about the training ns designed by the system. The high-intensity interval-training mimicked the rhythms of a real football match—where a yer might quickly switch between walking around the pitch and sprinting into the box.


    He had been undergoing the routine for more than six months to condition his body to adapt to an efficient way of using oxygen and prepare for the sudden change of pace in games.


    The system had been gradually increasing the frequency or number of repetitions in his running routines on the treadmill.


    For instance, the system had assigned him the weekly task of 30-second high-speed sprints repetitions on the treadmill, spaced with 1-minute resting intervals during the first three months of the mission. The next months, the missionsprised shorter and shorter resting intervals to increase the exercising intensity.


    Zachary continuously increased the stress on his musculoskeletal system to gain muscle size, strength, and endurance. And his efforts had paid off over the year of training. He was stronger physicallypared to the previous year.


    Zachary was sure that he could hold his own in a physical battle against the strongest Rosenborg under-19s. He was itching for an official match to test his skills.


    Zachary had been in a good mood when his body was getting stronger as the months progressed. On a treadmill, he always felt fast up there, exhrated. To feel his strength, to feel his own body flying at such speeds before slowing down, it fed back right into the soul and kept his inner mes healthy and bright.


    "DING"


    The system notification sounded when he was on his eighteenth routine of the high-intensity exercise. That was music to Zachary''s ears as it indicated that he had finished the final task of the one-year progressive overload fitness training mission.


    Before he knew it, Zachary was smiling a little, a smile with a twist to it, like the smile of a child who was determined not to weep. He was feeling the agony of the intensive exercise coupled with the happiness frompleting the system mission. The twobined to bring him a sadistic euphoria.


    However, he didn''t pause to open the system interface. He continued running on the treadmill—until hepleted the twenty routines of the high-intensity training for the day.


    "Okay, boys. First,e here," Coach Johansen hollered from the stretching and mobility area of the gym. He was in his usual unique style outfit—in a baggy ck Nike tracksuit.


    "This is rare," Paulmented. "The coach is giving a talk early in the morning. There may be something importanting up."


    "Like a match? Or more like the cutting of certain yers!" Kasongo frowned.


    "Stop specting," Kendrick cut in. "Let''s head over and see what he has to say." He turned towards Zachary—who had just stepped off the treadmill before asking: "Are youing?"


    "Of course." Zachary smiled. He reached out and took out a bottle of water from his backpack before chugging down some water. "Oh, that was refreshing." He sighed in between gasps of breath.


    The three-hour exercising had already tired him out. But Zachary wasn''t worried. He would recover his stamina in a few hours due to the dosage of the physical conditioning elixir he had consumed earlier that week.


    "Let''s go and hear what the coach has to say this time," he said to his t-mates after he''d steadied his breathing.


    "Is everyone here?" Coach Johansen asked, his gaze roaming across the sixteen yers seated in the middle of the gym.


    "Sir," Coach Bj?rn Peters said. "I''ve already taken roll call—and everyone is here." He was a man of middling height with a stern face and deep-set eyes. His regr gym work-outs made his chest, arms, and shouldersden with muscle making him resemble a bodybuilder instead of a ser coach.


    "Great." Coach Johansen nodded. "I''m d you''re now taking your physical training seriously. Had anyone been absent without reason, they would have faced the ax today."


    "I hope it''s a good morning for everyone here!" The Coach continued. "Moving on. You lot will be undergoing annual reviews in the next two weeks. We want to assess your progress over the past twelve months. So, we have organized two matches where you can showcase the fruits of your training for the past year."


    "Next Friday, you y against the Rosenborg under-19 teambined with the reserves team. The Friday after that, you''ll face off against the senior team of Rosenborg. Aren''t you excited?" The coach grinned, ncing around the gym.


    "ying against the Rosenborg senior team for our review! How are we supposed to perform against experienced yers? The academy officials are not serious..." The murmuring of the yers intensified the already tense atmosphere in the gym.


    "Quiet," Coach Johansen bellowed, creasing a brow. "This is an opportunity for you. The Rosenborg officials will be watching. You have a chance to make it into the Reserve team or even be spotted by the head coach. What are you afraid of?"


    "As long as you have improved, you don''t need to fear ying against the reserve or the senior team of Rosenborg," the coach continued. "We don''t expect you to win, but to perform at your best even when facing yers above your level. That will be a valuable experience for your budding football career."


    The yers around the gym settled down after hearing his peroration. Although they seemed to be worried, they couldn''t force the coach to change the annual review. They just had to swallow their anger and anxiety.


    But Zachary was different. He wanted to test his skills against high-level yers. Only then would Zachary gauge his progress and determine whether his skills were already good enough to join the professional league. Moreover, he was hungry for matches since he hadn''t yed a single official game in a year.


    "Coach!" One of the yers raised his arm after the coach had finished making his announcement.


    "Yes. You can ask your question, Martin." Coach Johansen nodded at the yer.


    "How many of the under-17s need to be cut from the team after this review?" Thenky, gangling boy asked.


    "You know I can''t tell you that." Coach Johansen grinned. "But we need very few yers from your team to join the under-19 group. However, if you all y a shitty game, then you''ll all be cut from the team. So, do your best."


    "Any more questions?"


    All the yers remained silent.


    "Okay, great." The coach smiled. "Let''s meet at the NF training grounds at 3:30 PM today. We''ll start our pre-match training then—so don''t bete."