Chapter 115: Chapter 115: The Threshold
Julian lay flat on his bed, eyes tracing the ceiling’s pale surface. The silence of the room pressed down on him, not heavy, but vast—like a reminder of how far he had come, and how far he still had to go.
How long had it been since he was reborn into this strange world?
Twelve matches.
Twelve weeks.
Three months.
A single season of battles that felt like lifetimes.
And now, the path ahead was shifting again. Soon, he would be leaving this comfort, moving to a new place—unknown, larger, harsher.
His voice broke the silence.
[Ashi, how much is my point?]
The system’s glow sparked across his vision.
[Current Points: 112.8]
Julian exhaled softly. Enough to buy a Normal Skill. Or maybe an item. Both were tempting, both could tip the scales. But choice was weight, and weight demanded patience.
[What about my attributes?]
The numbers flared before him.
[Total Attributes: 209]
He stared at the number, his jaw tightening. 209. Not enough.
To step into the Amateur League, he needed 280. That was the threshold. The wall. The beginning of a new battlefield.
280 to 700.
A canyon of power stretched across that range. A single number didn’t capture it—it was the gulf between boys chasing the ball and warriors shaping the game.
And beyond even that stood the next realm.
700 to 1400.
The Professional Tier. The realm of domestic leagues. The players who carved their names into cities and nations, who lived on television screens and in the roars of stadiums.
Julian’s gaze softened for a moment, mind painting faint images—roaring crowds in foreign languages, flags rippling in stadium winds, commentators shouting his name into microphones that carried across continents.
He could almost feel the heat of floodlights larger than any high school field, brighter than any local tournament. And yet, the image was not comfort. It was demand. A battlefield tenfold larger, daring him to step forward.
Julian’s breath deepened. He was nowhere near it yet. But his soul—the soul of the man who once ruled battlefields—refused to shrink.
If 280 was the gate...
If 700 was the threshold...
Then what lay above?
The system hadn’t revealed the final step. Not yet. That meant it existed. A tier beyond professionals. A realm not bound by Earth’s football.
Julian clenched his fists against the sheets. He needed more. If he wanted to compete in the new place David spoke of, he couldn’t crawl forward. He needed to leap.
[Ashi, use all my points on attributes.]
The familiar, cold voice echoed back.
[Acknowledged. Converting 110 points into 22 Attribute Points.]
[You may allocate freely, Host.]
"Good." Julian exhaled. But then he hesitated, staring at the numbers shimmering in his vision.
He could scatter them everywhere, chasing balance. Or—he could sharpen himself into a weapon.
A specialist.
Not just a player. A ruler. The emperor of the pitch.
Julian closed his eyes. The memories of his past life flickered—battlefields where the strongest warriors didn’t need to be the fastest or the toughest. They needed vision. To see through the storm. To control the flow of war itself.
What kind of player did he want to be?
The answer burned in his chest.
Perception.
To read the rhythm. To anticipate the unseen. To command every blade of grass beneath his boots. His body would catch up—he trusted his discipline, his training, his system. But vision? Vision would make him untouchable.
...
User: Julian Ashford
Age: 17
State: Youth League
Title: None
Exp Point : 12,8
...
CORE ATTRIBUTES
► Strength : 30
► Agility : 30
► Stamina : 33
► Technique : 35
► Perception : 50
► Instinct : 36
► Charisma : 17
Total Stat : 231 (259)
...
Item
➤ [Stamina Bracelet]
Type: Item
Rank: Normal
Effect: Boost stamina +10
Skill
➤ [Battlefield Mind Lv.2] [4/200]
Type: Passive
Rank: Mystic
Your instincts sharpen beyond human limits; battlefields speak to you in every breath, shift, and sound.
➤ [ Martial Memory Lv.2 ] [6/200]
Type: Passive + Active
Rank: Mystic
Your body not only remembers it begins to refine every technique it recalls, blending them into this world’s rule
Passive Effect: +4 to all attributes
Active Effect: For 10 seconds, use any martial technique from your past life without consuming mana.
➤ [Rule The Pitch Lv.2] [5/200]
Type: Passive + Active
Rank: Mystic
The field itself bends to the pulse of your soul; your vitality radiates as a battlefield domain.
Passive Effect: Removes all disease from Julian’s body. now grants slow regeneration
Active Effect: Rotate soul energy to temporarily boost to All attribute by +3 to +25.
Overuse may damage the body. Or you can focus the boost in one attribute for +3 to +25
➤ [Scan Lv.2] [8/50]
Type: Active
Rank: Rare
Effect: You can scan a person to view their attribute totals. You can see their best two attributes. You can see one of their skills.
➤ [Blood Furnace Lv.1] [2/50]
Type: Active
Rank: Legendary
Ignite the inner forge within your body, reinforcing muscle fibers, tendon elasticity, and cardiovascular output.
While active, all physical strain from other skills is reduced by 30%, stamina drain from high-intensity actions is halved, and recovery speed between bursts is doubled.
All physical strain from other skills reduced by 30% Stamina drain from high-intensity actions halved Recovery speed between bursts doubled
Duration: 5 minutes
Cooldown: 40 minutes
...
Julian’s eyes traced the numbers, the names, the effects. His chest tightened, then released in satisfaction. It wasn’t enough—not yet—but it was progress.
And more than that, he noticed something new. The faint bar beneath his skills. The creeping growth.
[Yes, Host.] Ashi’s calm voice hummed in his mind. [The more you use and understand your skills, the more experience you will gain. But of course... mastery will take time. Long time.]
Julian’s lips pressed into a thin smile. "Time is something I’ll carve myself."
His eyes lingered on the names—Battlefield Mind, Martial Memory, Rule the Pitch, Blood Furnace. Each one had weight, each one was a weapon forged in two worlds.
He imagined them not as words on a screen, but as blades hung on a rack. Some still dull, others gleaming, each waiting to be drawn in the right moment. He had carried swords in another life.
Now he carried these. Football was his battlefield, but the weapons were no less deadly.
And now, with Perception doubled, sharpened into a blade... he felt the stir. Like a veil beginning to thin. The next breakthrough wasn’t far.
Julian turned on his side, the ceiling fading from sight. Tomorrow, the pitch would call again. And when it did—he would see everything.