The 3-1 victory over Brighton felt like a carnival. Leon Fischer walked off the Ax pitch.
Neymar Jr.'s 'Flair Dribbling' had been an absolute blast, turning defenders into bewildered statues and creating chances out of thin air. Even hitting the post with that cheeky goal felt like a fun story to tell.
In the dressing room, the atmosphere was jubilant. John McGinn (Current: 84) slapped him on the back.
"Leo! You were dancing out there! That rainbow flick! And the elastico! Brighton's defenders are going to be having nightmares!"
Ollie Watkins (Current: 86), with his two goals, grinned.
"Seriously, mate, it was like you were playing FIFA on easy mode! That one you set up for, with the nutg before the pass… unbelievable!"
Leon laughed, breathless but beaming.
"Just having fun, guys! Saw the openings, took a chance!" He thought about the temporary nature of the skill, a secret he couldn't share, but the feeling of executing those moves flawlessly was intoxicating.
Alex Turner (Current: 81), still buzzing from his impressive debut and assist, walked over, eyes wide with awe. "Leon! That was insane! You were doing tricks I only see on YouTube! You're a wizard!"
Leon ruffled Alex's hair. "And you, mate! That assist! You're already a £21 million player, rember? You're going to be a star!"
As they made their way out of the stadium, signing autographs for excited fans, Leon saw a young girl, probably around ten years old, standing shyly at the edge of the crowd.
She held out a small Aston Villa jersey, her eyes wide with adoration.
"Please, Leon! Could you sign my shirt?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the remaining cheers.
Leon's heart ward. This was different from the casual pub chatter or the distant pundits.
This was a direct connection, a young fan looking up to him.
He smiled. "Of course!" He took the shirt, scribbled his signature, and handed it back.
The girl's face lit up, a pure, unadulterated joy that was incredibly rewarding. "Thank you! Thank you, Leon!" she squeaked, clutching the shirt to her chest.
He felt a pleasant warmth. This was part of it too. The fa, the connection with the supporters. It was a good feeling.
Back at the academy, Leon went straight to his room. He showered, ate a quick dinner, and then collapsed onto his bed, phone in hand.
He scrolled through the match highlights, reliving the dazzling dribbles, the pinpoint passes, the energy of the win.
He closed his eyes, drifting towards sleep. But just as he was about to nod off, his 'sight' flared with that familiar, intense shimr. A transparent screen materialized in his vision.
[HELP SYSTEM - NEW QUEST!]
Quest: Ensure Aston Villa finishes in 6th place or higher in the Premier League.
Reward: ??? Points!
Leon's eyes snapped open. Sixth place? That was a massive leap! They were currently sitting in 7th. He quickly grabbed his tablet and pulled up the Premier League table.
Arsenal - 52 points
Manchester City - 50 points
Liverpool - 49 points
Tottenham - 45 points
Manchester United - 43 points
Chelsea - 41 points
Aston Villa - 39 points
Brighton - 38 points
Fulham - 34 points
Newcastle United - 30 points
They were in 7th place. only 3 points off Chelsea in 6th. It was a challenging quest, definitely. It wasn't about a single player; it was about the entire team's performance.
It would require consistency, leadership, and every ounce of his '84 Current' ability.
Ohh, that's a hard one, he thought, a thrill of excitent mixed with the daunting challenge.
This was a quest that genuinely pushed him, the entire team, to new heights. He finally drifted into sleep, his mind already strategizing.
The next morning, Leon woke up with renewed determination.
The quest for 6th place fueled him. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he thrived on challenge. He imdiately grabbed his phone.
He decided to call Alex first. "Morning, Mr. £21 Million!"
Alex (Current: 81) chuckled on the other end.
"Morning, Mr. Neymar Jr.! You were unbelievable yesterday, Leon! I'm still replaying your skills!"
"Thanks, mate! You were brilliant too. Your assist was class! Listen, can you do a favor?" Leon asked. "Can you get Mark Johnson's phone number? From the Arsenal U18s? I need to talk to him."
"Mark? Yeah, sure, I'll ask one of the guys," Alex said, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, everything's great," Leon assured him. "Just got a few ideas for him. You'll see."
A few minutes later, Alex texted him Mark's number. Leon took a deep breath, then dialed. The phone rang a couple of tis before a slightly gruff voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this Mark Johnson?" Leon asked.
"Yeah, who's this?" Mark (Current: 71) sounded wary.
"Hi, Mark, it's Leon Fischer, from Aston Villa," Leon said, trying to sound calm and friendly. "I'm the one who suggested you for the trial with Villa's U18s, before you signed for Arsenal."
There was a pause on the other end.
"Oh! Right! Leon! Sorry, I didn't recognize the number. Yeah, what's up?" Mark sounded surprised, a hint of awe in his voice.
"Congratulations on the Arsenal move, Mark," Leon said genuinely. "That's huge. You deserve it. I saw your Potential, and I knew you were special. You're going to be a star there."
Mark's 'Current: 71' flickered with surprise, then a surge of quiet pride. "Thanks, Leon. I... I can't believe it's actually happening. It's been a whirlwind. Training here is so intense. Everyone's so good."
"I know," Leon replied, thinking of his own experiences.
"Listen, I just wanted to tell you sothing. I think Arsenal got a steal with you, honestly. They paid £19 million, right?"
"Yeah," Mark said, a note of awe in his voice. "It's a crazy amount of money for ."
"It is," Leon agreed. "But your Potential is 92, Mark. If you work hard, and keep developing, you're going to be worth far, far more than that.
I told Coach Ery you're worth at least £40 million now, and could easily hit £200 million if you reach your peak. Just keep believing in yourself, keep pushing.
And if you ever need any advice, or just want to talk about how to adapt to this level, my number's always open."
There was a stunned silence on Mark's end. Then, a shaky breath. "£200 million? Leon... are you serious? No one's ever told anything like that."
His 'Current: 71' pulsed with absolute disbelief, then slowly, a fierce determination. "I... wow. Thank you, Leon. I'm going to work harder than ever. I really appreciate this."
Leon smiled. "That's all I ask, Mark. We'll see each other on the pitch soon. Maybe even in the Premier League, you never know." The 'Help System' quest was now truly underway.
He hung up, a deep satisfaction filling him. Helping Mark, even just with those words of encouragent and belief, felt good. It wasn't about the points; it was about truly helping soone realize their potential.
Later that day, as he was heading out for a light jog, his mom t him at the door.
"Leon," she began, her tone playful, "have you given any more thought to my suggestion?"
Leon groaned. "Mom! Not again!"
She laughed, a warm, comforting sound. "Just checking, my dear! You're a Premier League star, you're doing amazing things on the pitch, and you're helping people off it!
You've got everything going for you!" She leaned in conspiratorially. "Besides, girls like a determined young man with a good heart."
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