My system allows me to copy talents

Ring! Ring!

The sound of the alarm clock woke him up. Though the sleep tried to chain him to the bed, he pushed against the comfort of sleep to wake himself up.

He didn’t feel like waking up. If permitted, he’d rather fulfill his sleep. However, something inside him prevented him from falling back to his slumber.

He walked to his window, then pushed the curtain aside.

Light spilled into his room through the window, illuminating the darkness inside the room. However, the light wasn’t too bright. Instead, it was rather bleak, almost as if it lacked a real source.

He glanced out the window; the sky remained shrouded in darkness, with a subtle hint of morning light paving the way for daylight.

Staring outside the window, he yawned.

Despite waking up, he could feel the sensation of slumber assaulting him. Well, because he had woken up even before the arrival of daylight, it was natural for him to feel that way.

One needed enough sleep to function after all.

But it ain’t that he hadn’t slept well. In fact, he had slept a whole nine hours. Even so, considering the nature of his profession, even that amount of sleep didn’t seem to be enough.

However, he knew he couldn’t do that.

Those who dream big shouldn’t let such frivolities hold them back.

For a moment, he sat beside the window, the cold air rustling past his face. He felt the sensation of cold air. For some reason, it felt soothing.

Then he proceeded to the washroom to freshen up.

The lights of the washroom lit up, lighting the entire space in bright colors. He walked before the mirror, his reflection staring back at him as he stared at the mirror.

His black hair was a mess, and a trace of sleep could still be spotted in his dark irises.

He blinked.

Then he splashed a handful of cold water on his face.

Just as the water came in contact with his skin, he felt a sensation of coldness penetrating his skin. The cold was somewhat discomforting. However, he knew it was the thing he needed the most right now.

He splashed a few more handfuls of cold water on his face before proceeding to remove what little clothes he had on him.

Upon removing the boxer he wore, he stepped inside the shower.

Though he could have directly headed to the shower, he liked to splash some water on his face before proceeding to take a cold shower.

It was like testing the water before plunging into it.

He twisted the knob, and water started flowing from the shower head. The water was cold, and he couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

"Huff!"

For a while, he sat in the shower, feeling the cold water on his skin. This cold shower woke him up from the core, illuminating those faint traces of sleep that threatened to keep him asleep.

Upon finishing, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around him before proceeding to brush his teeth.

He didn’t take long to freshen up.

Then, upon freshening up, he went to the kitchen.

First, he gulped a glass of water to cleanse his throat and gut. Then he took his supplements.

Then he got dressed and headed outside. Before long, he arrived at a grand venue.

"Good morning, Shun."

The guard, a rather old man in his sixties, greeted him.

"Good morning, Pedro."

He greeted the guard back with a warm smile.

"Don’t you find it excruciating to wake up so early?" Pedro asked.

"Well, you’re one to talk about. You’re here earlier than me." Shun responded, his tone rather playful.

"It’s my job. I have to do it." Pedro sighed. "But it’s different for you. The training doesn’t start until three hours from now. Yet, you are here three hours earlier. It’s good to work hard, but it’s equally important to get enough rest."

Shun could tell that this old man was just trying to be thoughtful. It wasn’t that he was annoyed or whatever.

He was just looking after him.

Hence, he couldn’t help but appreciate his thoughtful words.

"I’m grateful for your concern, Pedro. But rest assured, I get enough sleep. Plus we have all these medical staff to look after us, don’t we?"

"Hahaha... Indeed." The old man nodded, a gravelly chuckle escaping his throat. "But even so, you shouldn’t push yourself too much. What will we do if you get injured?"

"If I get injured, then there’s Joao," Shun answered plainly.

However, the moment Joao’s name left his lips, the old man’s expression shifted. His wrinkles deepened, carving rivers of disapproval across his weathered face as he frowned.

"Joao..." He spat the name like spoiled wine. "I don’t trust that troublemaker." He grimaced, adjusting his cap with a sharp tug. "That boy only knows how to flirt around and have fun. If we leave the team in his hands, who knows how far we’ll fall behind?"

Though Pedro’s criticism of the second-choice keeper was relentless, Shun couldn’t bring himself to chime in. Joao was still his teammate. Still a man who wore the same crest, bled the same colors.

Even if he was nothing but a troublemaker.

So Shun simply smiled—awkward, noncommittal, a shield against the discomfort.

"Hahah... You really don’t like him, do you?"

"It ain’t that I dislike him." Pedro fixed his cap again, a habit born from decades of nervous energy. "I dislike his attitude." He scoffed, gaze drifting toward the empty pitch. "If only he were even half as professional as you are, I’d sleep soundly at night."

His expression softened—just a fraction—as a heavy sigh escaped him.

"But anyways..." He waved a hand, shooing Shun away like a grandfather sending a child off to play. "You should continue your training. I’m sorry for keeping you occupied and wasting your time."

"No, no. It’s alright. I don’t mind it." Shun tried to assure him, his voice warm despite the lingering awkwardness.

Pedro studied him for a long moment—those old, knowing eyes scanning the young keeper’s face. Then, almost reluctantly, the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

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