The sun had sunk lower in the sky, the light of day draining away, giving way to the velvety dark of night.


    Zachary walked back home with his shoulders drooping, his brows creased, and his face tense as he reyed his conversation with Mr. Stein after the match.


    He''d just learned he wouldn''t be able to join the professional ser stage until he was 18. That implied he still had a year and a few months before he could obtain his yer''s license to y in Norway.


    The bureaucrats, based in Zürich, had decided to enforce a new regtion to prohibit the transfer of youth talents from developing Nations, iming to be protecting the rights of minors. Zachary wondered how the rights of the prospective yers would be protected when some had nothing to eat in their home countries. He was disgruntled.


    With FIFA''s new rules, there was not a chance that he could receive a license before he became an adult. Zachary remembered that some of the top clubs, such as Barcelona, had incurred the wrath of the world''s football governing body because they''d signed minors during his previous life.


    [Seems like I''ll have to dy my ns for a bit.] He mused.


    Zachary had hoped to join the under-19s after having a good game that day. He would have then gotten a lot of ying time and built up his skills and experience in official matches. But all that was no longer possible due to the damn FIFA rule.


    [Maybe, I can focus on my personalized training during the period before I turn pro.] Zachary sighed.


    He''d been keen on training some new skills which would benefit his career. However, he had always been busy preparing for the trial in Lubumbashi and then his move to Norway. However, he now had plenty of time to hone his skills.


    With the facilities present in Trondheim, he could upgrade his fitness and refine his techniques to a higher level. His goal was to turn most of his attributes into A-grades within a year. With a system that could help along the way, he was confident that he would turn into a monster by the time he debuted for Rosenborg.


    upied by his ns, Zachary made it to Moholt a few minutester. He was already feeling better, regaining his post-match jubnt mood, after the short walk through the cold evening air.


    As he was about to enter his apartment, he was surprised to hear several unfamiliar voices from behind the door. It was always just him and Kasongo in the kitchen, especially during the evening.


    He opened the door only to find two blonde Caucasians seated on one side of the dining table. Kasongo wasfortable in one of the other chairs, engaged in a chat with them.


    "Wow, therees our star," one of the Caucasians, with brown hair, eximed once he noticed Zachary standing in the doorway. He stood up and rushed to Zachary before extending his hand for a handshake. "Nice to meet you. I am Paul Otterson." He grinned.


    Zachary returned the handshake. "Zachary Bemba. Nice to meet you too." He looked towards Kasongo for rification. He wanted to know who the strangers in their apartment were.


    Paul Otterson noticed his confusion and beat Kasongo to a reply. "We''re your other two housemates." Heughed. "I''m in room 1, and Kendrick, over there, is in the other room."


    "Oh," Zachary said. "So, you are the two academy yers from Sweden?" He was enlightened. Mr. Stein had mentioned something about their housemates from Sweden being away on holiday.


    Zachary was surprised. The boy before him looked more like a movie star rather than an athlete. His short light brown hair was particrly curly and artfully tousled, matching his arched brows and sharp cheekbones that were perfectly angr. He seemed like one of those pretty-boy types in teenage romance movies to Zachary.


    "Yes, that is us," Paul replied, pointing at his pointed nose. His square chin, coupled with his small eye slits,bined to create intense facial expressions—like he was peeved about something all the time. However, the boy seemed like he was the more cheerful and fun-loving person among the two Caucasians.


    "We have been in Trondheim for a year already. We had just gone on holiday. I watched your game—and your run was simply magic. How did you manage to do it?" He asked.


    Before Zachary could reply, the other Caucasian cut in. "Paul. Give the guy a break. He''s just from a match. He should be tired."


    He stood up and moved towards Zachary. "Kendrick Otterson. Nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand. The Swede looked like one of those Zenned-out folks, the modern-day hippie types, with his long shoulder-length brown hair loosely framing his face. His scruffy beard did much to help the impression along. His downcast ocean blue eyes and his quiet, thoughtful demeanor, seeming tomunicate a certain innocence about his person.


    "Nice to meet you." Zachary returned his handshake, nodding. "You two are brothers?" He asked.


    Both had ocean blue eyes and shared amonst name. But their other traits were nothing alike. Kendrick was taller—about six feet, and more muscr than Paul. Zachary couldn''t easily confirm whether they were close rtives from just their looks.


    "Yes, we are," Paul was quick to answer. "Do we look alike?" He asked, putting an arm around Kendrick''s broad shoulders. Thetter pushed him away before returning to his seat.


    "Such a bore," Paul mumbled, shaking his head like an aged man.


    He turned to face Zachary and asked: "Have you eaten?"


    "Nope," Zachary replied. Since Mr. Stein had summoned him right after the match, he didn''t get time to eat the post-match snacks with the team.


    "Great." Paul pped his hands excitedly. "Let''s eat together. I''ve cooked Lasagna." He announced.


    Fifteen minutester, the group of four settled on the four-seater dining table to have their dinner. Zachary was surprised to find thesagna cooked by Paul delicious. The salty pastayers it had, spiced up by the hot sauce, was simply amazing. Its scent was simply intoxicating and mouth-watering when Zachary cut apiece off and shoved it into his mouth.


    Kasongo, the outspoken boy, took a bite of thesagna, cheesy with dark leafy greens. He smiled, "Paul, that''s so good."


    With a boyish grin, the Swede raised his brows, opening up his eyes, "Obviously. Any food I touch is a work of art." He emphasized. He seemed like one of those narcissistic pretty boys who usually bullied people in high school movies. "So, the two of you are from Africa?"


    "Yes," Kasongo replied after swallowing a mouthful of food. "The Democratic Republic of Congo, to be specific," he emphasized, smiling.


    "Is that near Didier Drogba''s country?"


    Zachary''s mouth twitched noticeably after hearing Paul''s question. DR Congo was thousands of miles away from Ivory Coast. He wondered how a person would ask whether the two were neighbors.


    "Hell, no." Kasongo shook his head. "Congo is at the center of the African Continent, bordering countries like Sudan, Uganda, and Tanzania."


    "Haven''t heard of any yer from there," Paul mumbled. "But I know Uganda. Was it the country in the Last King of Scond?"


    "Yes, we border Uganda, the country in the movie," Kasongo concurred. "So, which positions do you two y?" Kasongo skillfully diverted the topic away from his home country.


    "I y as a forward and a winger," Paul replied before looking towards Kendrick—who was quietly eating his food. The boy had been silent for arge part of the evening.


    "Goalkeeper," Kendrick answered after noticing that his brother was ncing at him.


    Zachary couldn''t recall any yers with the name Otterson—who yed the two positions on the Swedish team during his previous life. They were probably not famous in his past life.


    "What about you?" Paul turned towards Kasongo.


    "I can y on any wing," Kasongo replied.


    "Are you as good as Zachary?" Paul asked, his eyes looking expectantly at Kasongo.


    "Not yet." Kasongo sighed, smiling ruefully. "But I''ll be in a short time."


    "That''s the spirit, brother." Paul nodded. "I''m the same. I want to join the Rosenborg under-19s as soon as possible. By the way, Zach, which number did you get on the Rosenborg team?" He looked at Zachary, seated opposite him. Kendrick and Kasongo also nced at him with their eyes glittering with expectation.


    "I haven''t yet joined the under-19s..." Zachary exined the whole FIFA regtion about not allowing foreign under-18 yers to obtain a professional license away from their home country.


    "Damn! That''s unfair." Kasongo shouted when he heard Zachary''s narrative.


    "Don''t worry about the license for the meantime," Paul consoled. "We have been here for over a year, and yet we have no prospects of receiving a license before we turn 18. Scandinavian Clubs are very strict, especially with rules concerning minors."


    "But be assured that your time here will pass very fast," Paul continued. "You''ll have to attend the mandatory secondary school education here in Trondheim while also undergoing the hectic day to day training in the academy."


    "You two are in upper secondary. Right?" Zachary asked.


    "Yes," Paul replied. "We are attending the Tr?ndg International School. It is the school where the NF academy sends its students for their academic education. The coaches will most likely send you there after youplete the academy registration procedures."


    "Do we have to pass all the subjects to stay in the academy?" Kasongo asked, frowning.


    "Yes." Paul nodded emphatically. "You have to at least perform above average to stay on schrship. But don''t worry. The school designs our learning timetables to fit our training schedules. It has a coborative initiative with Rosenborg to train young football talents in Trondheim."


    The Swede went on to exin the schedules of training at the academy to Zachary and Kasongo. In addition to the daily routine ser training, the yers had a chance to participate in international training camps and under-17petitions if they performed well. The NF Academy team had even participated in the SIA Cup of Valencia and the Riga Cup of Latvia during the previous year. At suchpetitions, there were junior teams of the top clubs like Manchester City, Valencia, and PSV participating.


    Zachary was pleased with the offered packages by the academy and could not wait to start his training.


    After the hearty meal with his new housemates, he headed back to his room to rest for the night and prepare for the academy registration the next day. He was already dosing as the match had tired him out.


    Just out of habit, he opened the system interface to check out his missionpletion status for that day''s match. But when he opened the G.O.A.T-missions tab, his eyes widened in shock as he perused through its contents.