After the demolition of Sampdoria, the city of Florence didn't just wake up—it caught a fever.
Renzo Uzumaki, however, remained in the eye of the storm. For the past week, he had lived on the training pitch, his sweat soaking into the red "Starter" bib every single day. His teammates no longer looked at him with curiosity; they looked at him with expectation. He was the one who provided the ammunition.
Between sessions, Renzo finally took a moment to breathe and tapped into the blue interface shimmering in his mind.
[System Notification: Milestone Rewards Claimed]
[2 Free Attribute Points Available]
Renzo didn't hesitate. He remembered the feeling of Soriano's breath on his neck and the frantic lunges of the Sampdoria defenders. Passing was his sword, but Ball Control was his shield.
[Processing... Ball Control: 75 -> 77]
[Current Evaluation: Professional Level]
A subtle warmth spread through his ankles and toes. It was as if his connection to the ball had been rewired with fiber-optics. At 77, he was only three points away from the "Excellent" threshold of 80. He knew that at 80, the ball would stop being an object and start becoming an extension of his will.
But the System wasn't done with him.
[New Mission Triggered: The Home Debut]
Objective 1: Secure a victory against Hellas Verona.
Objective 2: Record at least 1 Assist.
Reward: Random System Treasure Chest.
Renzo closed the menu, his eyes narrowing. Verona. This wasn't going to be a walk in the park.
Hellas Verona were the "Dark Horses" of the 2014-15 season. They sat in 7th place, exactly one spot above Fiorentina. Their success was built on a bizarre but lethal combination: the defensive grit of Juventus-loanee Luca Marrone and the "Second Spring" of two aging legends—Javier Saviola and the immortal Luca Toni.
At 38 years old, Luca Toni was defying the laws of biology. He had 14 goals already, tied with Inter's Mauro Icardi for the lead in the Capocannoniere race. To make matters more poetic, Toni was a former Fiorentina hero. He knew every blade of grass at the Franchi.
For Fiorentina, this wasn't just a game; it was a leapfrog opportunity. Win, and they take 7th. Lose, and the "Renzo Hype" might start to look like a house of cards.
Match Day. The Stadio Artemio Franchi.
Even before the team bus arrived, the air around the stadium was thick with purple smoke and the roar of 50,000 voices.
As the fans poured through the gates, even the stadium veterans were stunned. The Artemio Franchi, which usually saw patches of empty gray concrete during mid-season games, was a solid, vibrating mass of purple.
"I haven't seen it like this since the Champions League nights," one elderly fan remarked, adjusting his scarf. "What's going on? Is it a cup final?"
"No, old man," his grandson replied, eyes glued to his phone. "It's Renzo. Everyone wants to see if the 'Ghost' is real."
The "Renzo Effect" was undeniable. The 16-year-old's four assists in 65 minutes had turned the local skeptics into true believers. They had missed the magic in Genoa and Sampdoria; they weren't going to miss the home coming.
Inside the locker room, the attendance figure flashed on the internal monitor: 100%. A low whistle went around the room. Captain Pasqual looked at Renzo, who was calmly lacing his boots. "No pressure, kid. Just fifty thousand people waiting for a miracle."
Renzo looked up, a small, confident smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He could feel the 77 Ball Control humming in his feet.
"Let's give them what they paid for," Renzo said.
30+ chapters are available now and daily updates! @patreon.com/Authorzero