The Coaching System

Full-Time

The final whistle echoed across Wembley, signaling the end of regular time.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, the weight of 90 minutes crashed down on the players like a tidal wave.

Some collapsed to the ground immediately, their bodies unable to take another step. Others hunched over, hands on their knees, desperately sucking in air.

A few lay flat on their backs, staring blankly at the sky above them, their chests rising and falling with heavy, labored breaths.

The stadium lights glared down mercilessly, illuminating the sweat-soaked jerseys, the dirt-stained socks, the raw exhaustion etched into every face.

Jake stepped onto the pitch, his boots sinking slightly into the grass.

His players were drained, every ounce of energy poured into the fight.

But when he looked into their eyes—past the fatigue, past the frustration—he saw something else.

They weren't broken.

They weren't defeated.

They were still standing.

Still fighting.

And that meant they weren't done yet.

As Jake turned back toward the touchline, something unexpected happened.

A sharp vibration ran through his wrist.

[Ding! New Feature Unlocked: System Marketplace]

Jake froze.

His brow furrowed as he quickly glanced at the system interface. This was new.

Up until now, the system had provided tactical insights, scouting advantages, and player development tools. But a marketplace?

This had never happened before.

With a flick of his wrist, Jake opened the system.

A menu appeared.

Current Points Available: 120

Available Purchases:

Tactical Playbook (500 points) – Locked

Fitness Booster (300 points) – Locked

Stamina Water (100 points) – Available

Jake's eyes narrowed as he scrolled to the last item.

Stamina Water?

He clicked on it, scanning the description.

Boosts player stamina by 20% when consumed. Effects last for the remainder of the match.

Jake exhaled slowly. So that's what this was.

The system was giving him a way to keep his players going.

He glanced toward the pitch. His team was exhausted. Every player had given everything, but now, with extra time looming, legs were heavy, breaths were ragged, and the energy was fading.

Notts County had made a defensive substitution, signaling they were content to hold out for penalties.

But Bradford?

Bradford were going to win this game before it got that far.

Jake didn't hesitate.

[Confirm Purchase? 100 Points]

[Confirmed. The current water bottles have been replaced with Stamina Water.]

Jake's jaw tightened slightly.

He turned his gaze toward the bench, where the team's water bottles sat on a tray.

The same bottles they had prepared before the match.

But now?

The system had changed them.

A slow breath left Jake's nose.

He didn't let his expression change. If anyone noticed him staring too long at the water, questions would arise.

Instead, he called over one of the coaches.

"Bring the water. Make sure everyone gets some."

The coach nodded and hurried off, completely unaware of what had just happened.

Jake folded his arms, keeping his expression neutral as he watched the bottles being handed out.

His players grabbed them, unscrewing the caps, drinking deeply—completely oblivious to the fact that their bodies were about to recover faster than they should.

Silva wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and rolled his shoulders.

Collins cracked his neck and bounced on his toes.

Benson took a deep breath, stretching his legs.

One by one, the signs appeared.

The exhaustion in their faces eased. Their shoulders squared up a little more. Their breathing steadied faster.

They wouldn't even notice the difference themselves.

But Jake would.

His team had just been given an edge.

And Notts County had no idea what was coming.

As Jake stood at the edge of the technical area, a final notification flashed across his vision.

[Ding! One-Time Player Enhancement Available: Choose One Player]

His pulse didn't even spike. He had been saving this for the right moment.

This was it.

There was no hesitation.

He selected Novak.

The system reacted immediately.

A rush of invisible energy surged through Novak's body.

It was subtle—no bright lights, no dramatic effects—just a shift.

One second, his legs felt heavy, slow, burdened by weeks of recovery.

The next?

They didn't.

His breathing evened out, smooth and controlled. The deep ache in his muscles, the stiffness in his joints—gone.

He rolled his shoulders, flexing his fingers, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

His heartbeat remained steady, but something felt different.

Stronger.

Sharper.

Jake kept his expression neutral as he watched the change unfold.

Novak didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. He wasn't questioning why, after ninety minutes of grueling football, he suddenly felt fresh.

Some players just believed in moments like this.

When everything was on the line, some athletes found another level.

They didn't ask why.

They just used it.

And that was exactly what Novak would do.

Jake crossed his arms, eyes locked on the pitch.

Novak jogged toward his position, stretching his legs, rotating his neck.

The movement was fluid, effortless.

He didn't know it.

But right now?

He was stronger, faster, and more agile than he had been all season.

Jake stepped forward, looking at each of his players.

"We are not letting this go to penalties," he said firmly.

Some of them still had their hands on their knees, trying to regulate their breathing. Others were shaking their arms loose, refocusing.

"We have thirty minutes," Jake continued. "That's it. Thirty minutes to end this."

Silva was nodding. Min-jae cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders back. Carter wiped the sweat off his forehead, already focused.

Jake turned to Novak.

"Make your runs. Get into the box. The chances will come."

Novak gave a sharp nod. "I'll finish it."

Jake shifted his gaze to Silva and Collins.

"Attack their full-backs. They're tired. You aren't."

Silva smirked. Collins exhaled deeply, then nodded.

Finally, Jake locked eyes with Carter.

"You dictate this game. Move the ball fast. Find the gaps."

Carter's eyes were steady. "I've got it."

Jake looked at all of them one last time.

"If we score, we win. Make this count."

No one spoke.

They didn't need to.

The belief was there.

Jake clapped his hands once. "Let's go."

Bradford stepped back onto the pitch.

Extra time was about to begin.