32: Hell Week Training and the No-Ego Giants
787 Words
The moment the team returned to the training ground, Coach Ferreira flipped the switch from celebration to hell-mode preparation. There were no victory laps, no extra rest days, and absolutely no time for the players to bask in their new viral fame. If anything, the coach doubled down on training intensity, determined to turn their fleeting upset luck into solid, unshakable strength.
“Minas General does not make mistakes,” Coach Ferreira emphasized, slamming the tactical board lightly to grab everyone’s attention. “São Paulo Royal relied on individual stardom and ego. Minas General relies on system, chemistry, and flawless execution. They don’t trash-talk, they don’t pose for cameras, and they never self-destruct. The only way to beat them is to outwork them.”
The team listened in dead silence. After scrolling through countless highlight reels of the top seed, even the usually cocky Carlos and playful Tiago had lost their sense of frivolity. Minas General’s gameplay was boringly perfect—crisp route timing, zero miscommunication, stable pass accuracy, and textbook defense. They were the complete opposite of the dramatic, meme-generating São Paulo Royal squad.
“It’s honestly kind of creepy,” Tiago muttered while stretching his legs. “They play like programmed robots. No emotion, no chaos, just steady gains every single play.”
“Worse than robots,” Carlos added seriously. “Robots glitch. These guys don’t.”
Leo couldn’t agree more. While his Vanity Shutdown passive had completely neutered Ethan’s ego-driven gameplay, it would do nothing against Minas General’s humble, disciplined roster. None of their players sought the spotlight, none cared about online reputation, and none would panic or overcompensate under pressure. This upcoming battle would rely entirely on raw skill, prediction, and physical endurance.
To make up for their gap in elite talent, Coach Ferreira arranged a brutal three-day intensive training camp. He forced the team to simulate Minas General’s high-tempo short-pass system nonstop, running repetitive defensive drills until every player’s muscles burned with fatigue. Every minor slip-up, every slow reaction, every tiny misstep resulted in extra laps.
The team quickly learned just how ruthless the top-seed standard was. Even their smallest flaws, which had gone unnoticed in previous matches, were ruthlessly exposed in simulation drills.
During team defense drills, Leo found himself pushed to his absolute limit for the first time all tournament. The practice offense mimicked Minas General’s signature quick-switch routes and seamless player rotation perfectly. Without arrogant opponents to exploit, he had no free wins, no funny self-sabotage to laugh at, and no room for relaxation.
“Your reading speed is good, but your recovery is too slow,” Coach Ferreira pointed out sharply after Leo got caught flat-footed on a quick cross-switch route. “Minas General’s receivers don’t stumble. They don’t freeze. They capitalize on every split-second gap you leave open.”
Leo nodded without complaint, wiping sweat from his forehead and resetting his stance instantly. He knew the coach was right. Against Ethan, he’d won easily by waiting for the opponent’s ego to cause mistakes. Against Minas General, there would be no mistakes—only his own progress to rely on.
To everyone’s amusement, the only humor in the entire grueling training week came from the team’s lingering viral fame. Random players from other teams would sneak over to their training fence during breaks, hoping to catch a glimpse of the “Ethan slayer.” Some even pulled out their phones to quietly record Leo practicing basic defensive moves.
Tiago couldn’t help but tease Leo nonstop. “You’re the tournament’s new celebrity now. Soon you’ll have more fans than the peacock ever did.”
“They’re not here for me,” Leo said calmly, refocusing on his drill. “They’re here to study how to beat me.”
His words proved correct almost instantly. A group of Minas General players stood by the sidelines, watching their training session quietly. Unlike other teams, they didn’t whisper or gawk. They simply observed with sharp, analytical eyes, memorizing Leo’s defensive habits, his acceleration timing, and his route reading tendencies.
Their leading wide receiver, Lucas Mendes, nodded respectfully at Leo from afar. There was no arrogance, no mockery, no condescension—only pure, competitive acknowledgment. It was a far more intimidating gesture than any trash talk.
Leo’s system flickered faintly, issuing a friendly reminder of the incoming nightmare match up.
Warning: The next opponent possesses zero vanity attributes. Vanity Shutdown passive effect is suspended for this fixture.]
[Player must rely solely on base attributes and active talent Predatory Read, for defense.]
Leo exhaled slowly, his gaze sharpening. The easy, funny victories were over. From here on out, every yard, every stop, and every win would have to be earned the hard way.
- Writer
