Alfred looked around, struggling to process just how many things had changed in just over an hour while he and Mystic waited outside for the renovation crew to finish their work.
Though he hadn't attended many training sessions in the past, however he was still familiar with the layout of the training facility, at least he thought he was, now, standing before the completely transformed facility, it all felt unfamiliar.
Surprisingly, Mystic, who hadn't spent much time here before, was now the one confidently giving him a tour of the place, identifying every section with ease.
This was thanks to a mini map linked symbol Mystic could summon through the system, a perk granted once the facility reached Bronze rank.
It explained why the system had sent its own crew to handle the upgrade, almost like they also mapped the whole place into the system's servers and that is why Mystic could now access a map overlay that displayed the names and functions of each area they entered.
After the tour, Mystic suggested they rest by the main training pitch, as they sat in peaceful silence, Mystic took it all in, the scent of freshly cut grass, the scattered footballs, the cones being arranged by one of the newly assigned system bots that was employed.
A wave of relief washed over him; that at least this part of the journey was now complete.
From what the AI system had revealed, he knew he'd also have to upgrade the stadium eventually so it could sync with the system as well.
But that could wait, he was ready to take things one step at a time.
His uncle, who was seated beside him, was simply glad to see the club coming back to life, then Mystic turned to him and said,
"Finally, they're here."
As he stood up, his eyes were fixed on the mini-map display, where a cluster of yellow dots had just begun entering the training grounds, clearly the bots and his uncle were marked with green dots on the mini-map, indicating allies, so the yellow dots had to be neutral.
Mystic had figured all that out just by observing the system's map interface.
"How can you tell?" Alfred asked, rising from the dugout and turning toward the entrance like Mystic had done, and his eyes widened in surprise as a group of young boys entered, led by Viper with his two men flanking him.
"Baba Nla (Big Boss), Boss, I have delivered as you asked," Viper said, addressing Alfred first before turning to Mystic.
The boys quickly assembled in front of them, most of their eyes lingering on Alfred, assuming he was the one in charge.
Viper hadn't given them many details, only that they'd been chosen to come try out for a club that was in desperate need of players and rebuilding from the ground up.
The whole thing had seemed a little sketchy to them, after all, it wasn't every day that Viper, the undisputed gangster of their area—showed up acting like a scout, but refusing him wasn't really an option either, a chance to play ball was hard to come by and since most of them had a passion for football they all made up their mind to play even if it was a sketchy tournament.
True to his word, Viper and his boys had found everyone Mystic had requested, and now here they were, standing on an actual training pitch, causing the boys to be shocked that this was not part of some shady setup they had expected.
"What do you think? I delivered, right boss?" Viper asked proudly.
But Mystic didn't respond immediately, as he was too busy scanning the faces in front of him, as a faint smile formed at the corner of his lips, he could hardly believe what he was seeing.
They looked just like he remembered from his past life, some had new hairstyles or new dressing styles, but deep down, they were the same boys.
"Yes, you've done an incredible job, Viper," Mystic said as he stepped forward and stretched out his right hand.
An envelope materialized in his palm, he'd just initiated a withdrawal of ten thousand Alliance credits through the system with his mind.
With his growing proficiency in using the system over the past three days, such an action came naturally to Mystic now. Viper wasted no time shaking hands with him, accepting the envelope smoothly.
As he broke the handshake, he tilted the envelope slightly to peek inside, spotting the neatly arranged wad of cash, he let out a satisfied whistle, then gave his two guys a subtle nod, signalling it was time to leave.
"Just want you to know, it's been a pleasure doing business with you, and if you ever need my services again, I'm sure you know how to reach me," Viper said as he turned to head out.
"Definitely, I would be needing you sooner than you think" Mystic replied, already turning back toward the group of familiar faces.
Though they hadn't met in this world, but he knew each of them well, they, on the other hand, were now starting to question if they had misunderstood who the real boss was.
As their eyes shifted from Alfred to Mystic, who stood confidently with his hands in his pockets, looking every bit like the one in charge after his interaction with Viper, despite being so young .
"First of all, welcome to Dark Elites. Is there anyone here who wasn't briefed on why you're here today?" Mystic asked, and the boys shook their heads in unison.
"Viper said we were selected for a try-out with this club, It's not like we have anything better to do, and a chance to play football? I figured—why not give it a try?" said the tallest among them as he stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back.
"Iyanda Sunday—Bgola, still straight forward as always" Mystic said with a knowing smile.
Hearing both his full name and nickname being mentioned like that made Sunday pause, clearly surprised.
But the shock faded just as quickly, as he started to feel maybe this guy before them just did his research well on him, still, they couldn't help glancing back at Alfred, half-expecting him to step in at some point.
But he remained silent, and all eyes gradually returned to Mystic.
"Viper only delivered the message I gave him. You're not here for a try-out," Mystic said, his voice calm but firm.
The revelation struck like lightning, as none of the boys had expected that, and even Alfred's expression flickered with surprise, unaware of Mystic's true intentions.
He had already resolved not to question Mystic's methods anymore, realizing the boy was far more cunning and intelligent than he let on.
"If you don't mind me asking... why?" Peter Lambert—a short, dark-skinned boy with a clean crew cut, stepped forward, confusion written all over his face.
"I thought this was supposed to be a try-out for your club."
"Oh, that's simple," Mystic replied with a faint smirk.
"It's because I already know your level, and I don't need to evaluate what I already know. You're all here today to sign as official players of Dark Elites FC, of the Shomolu region."
This time, the silence that followed wasn't just from shock—it was awe.
Before Mystic stood eleven boys, the eleven he had chosen to be his future star eleven.