My system allows me to copy talents

The answer, however, was simple.

The opposition couldn’t see it. The fans couldn’t see it. But the people who worked with him could see through his attempt.

"You’re going in..." Diego’s lips curled into a smile as his pupils expanded, a thrill rustling through his veins. His heart pounded with excitement, each beat echoing the rhythm of the unfolding drama.

The more he watched the scene on the pitch, the more captivated he became. He could tell that Hiro was going the extra mile himself.

If it had been anyone else, Diego wouldn’t be smiling like this. But he knew this kid’s abilities better than anyone. So he allowed himself to feel the excitement building in his chest.

’He’s searching for an angle.’

Soon enough, Hiro arrived before his first obstacle—a tall, experienced defender who had, until this moment, performed his duties with quiet efficiency. He planted himself before the goal as if his life depended on it.

Even now, he stood firm.

Hiro glanced at him. He had been tracking this defender since the beginning of the match and could tell—this individual had a brilliant knack for positioning. His face betrayed no hesitation, no panic. Only calm, unwavering focus.

Though his opponent seemed formidable, Hiro didn’t panic. He registered him the way he registered everything mid-sprint—not with admiration, not with fear. Just an obstacle. A barrier between him and his goal.

Nothing more than that.

He glanced ahead as he accelerated. To the casual observer, it seemed obvious—he would utilize the space outside. The center had been locked off two moves ago, and the box was crowded. The flanks were the logical choice.

That seemed like the optimal option.

But Hiro wasn’t interested in logic and reasoning.

Right now, his senses screamed at him to do something different. Like he could see a path others couldn’t—a corridor invisible to everyone else on the pitch.

For some reason, though the outside felt like the obvious option, he couldn’t bring himself to take it.

’Something else. There’s something else.’

His instincts pulled him elsewhere.

He dropped his shoulder outside, almost making it seem as though he were opting for the flank. Despite that unbelievable feint, his opponent didn’t bite.

Instead, he stood his ground, firm. Though he continued to pressurize Hiro, he refused to rush into a tackle. He knew that defense required timing, and he knew it wasn’t the time for him to make his move.

Hence, he stood firm, awaiting his chance whilst still maintaining the pressure on his opponent as if he wanted to intimidate him.

Unable to shake him off, Hiro felt a flicker of frustration. He knew he had pulled off a clean feint, but his opponent hadn’t fallen for it.

’Tough one.’

Though it bugged him, he couldn’t afford to dwell on it. So he shifted tactics.

This time, he didn’t just rely on his shoulders. He shifted his entire weight, committing fully to the feint as if attempting to break through the flank.

Once again, his opponent seemed unfazed. The outcome appeared almost identical to before.

But this time, Hiro didn’t just feint.

He cut outside for real.

He drove toward the space on the flank, threatening to exploit it fully. His opponent, as composed as he was, had no choice but to follow. Even if it were still a feint, he couldn’t allow Hiro to break through their defensive line unchallenged.

So he shifted.

The shift wasn’t dramatic—a slight adjustment, a step to the side. But that was all Hiro needed.

With explosive athleticism and impeccable control, he executed a chop—changing direction mid-feint with jaw-dropping precision. From an observer’s perspective, the move seemed almost impossible to execute.

How can someone change direction that quickly?

It doesn’t make sense.

The angle at which he executed the move made it even more unbelievable—a sharp, violent cut that defied physics.

The audience gasped, their eyes wide with surprise.

What did we just witness?

However, before the people in the stadium could even register Hiro’s athleticism, he was already cutting inside.

His opponent—the one he had just tricked—scrambled to adjust. Desperation seeped into his movements as he tried to recover what he had lost. Though he had been deceived, he refused to admit defeat.

The battle isn’t over until the whistle.

He hadn’t heard it yet. So the battle was still ongoing.

With that thought burning in his chest, he lunged forward, desperate to redeem himself.

But before he could even adjust his footing, Hiro had already left him behind in the dust. The gap between them—though small—was already significant.

’What?! When did he get that far?’

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Hiro stood at a distance his arms couldn’t even reach in the blink of an eye. Now, even if he wanted to drag him down, he couldn’t.

’This doesn’t make sense.’

He had heard that this kid was fast. He had seen his speed on footage. But experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely—a realization that struck him like a physical blow.

For a moment, upon witnessing the distance between them, a pang of frustration knocked against his chest.

Even so, he continued to chase.

Meanwhile, Hiro pressed forward.

Now, he could see it—a space that hadn’t been available before. A corridor he had carved out himself, born from his own brilliance.

The box opened before him like an offering.

The defenders around him were still recovering, scrambling to reorganize. The ones positioning in the center loomed as the biggest threat—but their positions weren’t impeccable. Even from a glance, Hiro could tell he had only a few seconds before the gap he spotted would vanish.

The space was small. But it was present, and that’s what mattered.

His gaze landed on the post before him.

Though he sat at the edge of the box and the post was still distant, he could see it. The path where he needed to strike to produce results.

That path, however, was getting smaller and smaller with each passing second.

He knew he had to act before the path was closed.

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