Backstreet No. 7

The atmosphere over the training grounds was thick with anticipation now.

It was 08:58, and the first match was about to kick off.

Lucas sat on the sideline benches with the rest of Group 2, relieved that his team wouldn't be playing first. This gave him the perfect opportunity to observe the so-called prodigy, Marco Rodriguez, in action.

"Matches are 30 minutes each," Dong-Yul had explained earlier, his voice crisp and efficient. "With 15-minute breaks between games to recover. Use your time wisely."

Lucas hadn't forgotten the rules, but his focus now was entirely on Marco. The Filipino forward was an enigma.

He had heard the murmurs, the whispers of Marco's dominance on the field. Now, he would see if the reality matched the legend.

Kyung-Sam approached Lucas and sat beside him on the bench. His platinum blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight as he leaned back andcwatched the field with a relaxed gaze.

"Marco's a good player," Kyung-Sam said casually.

"You should keep your eyes out for him."

"I already am," Lucas replied, his tone resolute. His gaze never left Marco, who was already moving into position.

Lucas clenched his fists.

Marco might be the star now, but I have to prove that I belong on this stage too.

"I'll outperform him," Lucas muttered under his breath.

Kyung-Sam chuckled lightly hearing Lucas's words. "That's the spirit. Just don't let him get inside your head. Marco's good, but he's not invincible. Remember that."

"And what about you?" Lucas asked.

Kyung-Sam smiled again. "I'll do my best on the field. Though I can't make any guarantees," He chuckled playfully.

Marco now stood away from his Group 1 teammates, a solitary figure among the team of 7 including himself. While the others chatted or stretched nervously, Marco stretched in silence, exuding an air of confidence.

A sharp grin played across his face as he cast glances at the Group 3 players, his presence alone enough to unsettle most of them.

Yet, amidst the unease, one player from Group 3 stood unshaken.

Eito Kagura.

The 17 year-old Japanese midfielder exuded calmness. His sharp black eyes were fixed on Marco with a look of quiet resolve.

Known as "Kroos" among his peers back in Japan, Kagura was celebrated for his precise passing and flawless ball control.

His ability to dictate the rhythm of a game was unparalleled, earning him a reputation as a midfield maestro.

Kagura's appearance matched his calm nature. His mid-length black hair swayed slightly as he moved, his sharp facial features making him look almost emotionless. He wore a thermal undershirt beneath his Group 3 bib, the sleeves clinging to his lean but muscular frame.

His socks were rolled only halfway up his shins revealing a part of his shin guards—a small act that added to his immense aura.

"Eito Kagura," someone whispered among the 14 players on the bench. "He's the real deal."

Lucas's eyes narrowed as he studied Kagura.

So, he's the leader of Group 3.

Kyung-Sam, sitting beside him, noticed Lucas's focus and grinned. "That's Eito Kagura," he said. "Moved to Korea a couple of years ago. Don't let his quiet demeanor fool you. He's as dangerous as they come."

Lucas nodded slowly, a flicker of determination lighting up his gaze.

Kagura was another rival he would have to face but instead of feeling intimidated, this time Lucas felt a surge of excitement.

Meanwhile, a different kind of drama was unfolding on the sidelines.

Joo Seung-Hyun, the Technical Director's infamous son, was causing a scene. His rotund figure, stuffed awkwardly into his Group 2 bib, stood out as he waved his arms at a referee.

"This is ridiculous!" Seung-Hyun shouted, his face flushed. "You work for my father, remember that!"

The referee, an old man who looked as though he had endured years of abuse in his profession, hesitated, his hands fidgeting nervously.

Seung-Hyun's complaint? He refused to wear his shin guards, a mandatory requirement for safety on the field.

Lucas, sitting on the bench, caught the interaction and felt his stomach churn with irritation.

Is this guy serious?

It wasn't just Seung-Hyun's arrogance, it was his tone, the way he spoke down to someone who was just doing their job.

The referee stammered an apology, bowing slightly. "I-I'm sorry, Seung-Hyun, I didn't mean to upset you. Please, go ahead without them."

The referee looked utterly humiliated, and what was worse, not even Dong-Yul intervened.

The head scout who was normally strict and unyielding, simply stood off to the side, watching the scene with crossed arms and an impassive expression.

Of course, Lucas thought bitterly. No one dares challenge the Technical Director's son.

Seung-Hyun smirked triumphantly, his pudgy face twisting into an expression of smug satisfaction.

"That's better," he sneered, turning away as if the referee were nobody.

Lucas couldn't believe the insolence. It wasn't just his peers that Seung-Hyun disrespected, it extended to the staff as well.

Just how rude can one person be? He wondered.

Kyung-Sam, who had been observing the scene leaned closer to Lucas, his voice low. "Annoying, isn't it? That's Seung-Hyun for you. Nobody says anything because of who his father is."

"It's pathetic," Lucas muttered, his fists clenching.

Kyung-Sam chuckled dryly. "True. But here's the thing, Jin-Hoo. On the field, none of that matters. Out there, even someone like Seung-Hyun can't hide behind his father's name. Just wait. He'll embarrass himself soon enough."

Lucas exhaled slowly, letting Kyung-Sam's words sink in. He wanted to believe that the field was the great equalizer, that Seung-Hyun's arrogance and privilege wouldn't protect him once the games began.

Pweeeeeeeet!

The referee's whistle sounded the start of the trial match between Group 1 and 3.

Marco surged forward at blinding speed, skillfully taking on and dispatching opponents as if they were flies.

As he approached the goal he rolled the ball rolled to a Malaysian youth while making the run into the 18-yard box.

The player hesitated buying Group 3 enough time to fall back.

Kagura moved in with purpose, intercepting an attempted pass to Marco with a perfectly timed tackle.

He dashed forward now taking on two Group 1 players who charged at him, elegantly maneuvering the ball through them like a professional against a two schoolboys.

He advanced into the opposition half using his eyes to scan available options while keeping the ball close to his feet.

On the left flank a scrawny but nimble Korean player made a run at the defence making a signal for a through pass.

Kagura twisted himself, avoiding a slide tackle and executed a beautiful trivela pass which curved into the sky and fell into the path of the advancing winger.

The crowd on the sidelines groaned in astonishment.

For Lucas, watching from the sidelines, it was mesmerizing.

Kagura's skill wasn't flashy, but it was effective.

While Marco dazzled with his physicality and flair, Kagura controlled the game with his mind.

It was a stark contrast, two different styles that would inevitably clash on the field.

Lucas began to realise that this trial wasn't just about earning a spot. It was about proving himself against the best. Marco, Kagura, even Seung-Hyun—they were all pieces of the challenge ahead. And Lucas was ready to take them on, one by one.