The ball rolled lazily across the grass as Maradona Pérez stood still, staring at his feet. Something had changed. He could feel it in his bones, in his muscles, in the way the air itself seemed different. The moment the system had booted, an overwhelming flood of sensation had surged through him—knowledge, instincts, abilities that weren't there before. His left foot tingled with a newfound sharpness, his brain processed movements and spaces on the field with unnatural clarity. He took a breath, flicked the ball up, and without thinking, executed a Maradona Turn with effortless grace. It felt… perfect.
A slow smirk crept onto his face.
[ Newbie Gift Pack Unlocked ]
The notification rang in his mind, but he already knew what had changed. His body moved too naturally, too effortlessly for an eight-year-old. The gift pack had granted him Diego Maradona's Talent—an instinctive dribbling ability, an unshakable balance, the raw creativity of a street football god. Alongside it, Toni Kroos' Pinpoint Passing, a skill that allowed him to distribute the ball with surgical precision. And all of this was stacked onto his already immense natural talent.
He lifted the ball, bounced it on his knee, then chipped it into the air before catching it with his instep. His azure-blue eyes burned with ambition. This was just the beginning.
From that day, the academy was no longer a challenge—it was a playground. Maradona humiliated kids his age. His left foot weaved through defenders as if they were statues, his passes sliced through defensive lines like a blade. The coaches marveled at his talent, but his teammates… they hated him. Not just because he was better, but because of his arrogance.
"You're too slow," he sneered at a teammate who had miscontrolled a pass. "If you can't keep up, you don't belong here."
Some tried to push back, to challenge him. It never ended well. Every training session was another reminder—he was different. He despised weak players, those who couldn't see the game at his level. To him, Real Madrid's academy wasn't a place for charity. It was a battlefield, and only the best deserved to remain.
Months passed, and soon, it was time for his first yearly draw.
[ 2002 - Yearly Draw Activated! ]
The wheel spun, flashing legendary names. Maradona watched closely, his heartbeat steady. Then—Andrea Pirlo's Passing Range.
A wave of understanding filled his mind. Pirlo wasn't just about passing; he controlled tempo. He saw the game in patterns, knew when to accelerate, when to slow down, when to dictate. That night, Maradona sat in his grandfather's study, sipping water as Florentino Pérez examined him from across his desk.
"I hear you've been making enemies," Florentino remarked, swirling his wine.
Maradona smirked. "They hate me because they're not good enough."
Florentino chuckled. "Arrogance is a dangerous thing. But… in football, it can be a weapon. Just remember—this sport isn't just about skill. It's about control."
Maradona's eyes flickered with understanding. "Then I'll control everything."
By 2003, he was nine years old, and no one in the academy could touch him. The coach pulled him aside, asking if he wanted to play up an age group. Maradona simply nodded—as if it was expected.
Then, the next draw came.
[ 2003 - Yearly Draw Activated! ]
[ Master-Level Vision: Xavi Hernández ]
The field expanded in his mind. Where before he saw passing lanes, now he saw sequences, entire plays forming three steps ahead. Every touch had purpose, every move was calculated. In games, he toyed with opponents—passing one way while looking the other, delivering inch-perfect through balls that left defenders scrambling.
But it wasn't enough.
By 10 years old, he wanted more. He played with the Under-12s, yet the level was still beneath him. His grandfather watched from the stands, nodding in approval.
"You've outgrown them," Florentino said after a match.
Maradona didn't even look up. "Obviously."
[ 2004 - Yearly Draw Activated! ]
[ Elite Defensive Awareness: Sergio Busquets ]
Now, he wasn't just an attacker. He was a wall. He intercepted passes before they were made, read movements before they happened. It was no longer just about attacking—it was about owning the midfield entirely.
By 11, his arrogance became legend. During a match, a teammate misplaced a pass. Maradona turned to him, disgusted.
"Do you even know what you're doing?"
The boy flushed red. "I—"
"If you can't keep up, leave. This is Real Madrid."
Florentino heard about the incident but didn't scold him. Instead, he merely smiled. That was the attitude of a king.
The next draw came.
[ 2005 - Yearly Draw Activated! ]
[ Midfield Engine: Steven Gerrard ]
His legs felt stronger, his endurance limitless. Now, he could run all game, press, defend, attack—all with the same intensity. By 12, he was untouchable.
Another year, another draw.
[ 2006 - Yearly Draw Activated! ]
[ Perfect First Touch: Dennis Bergkamp ]
The ball stuck to his foot like glue. His dribbling became effortless, his control artistic. In a match against Barcelona's academy, he received a pass under pressure, flicked it over a defender's head, turned, and volleyed it into the top corner—Bergkamp style.
The scouts were speechless.
By 13, he trained with the Under-16s, dominating midfield like a king among peasants. The final draw before Castilla arrived.
[ 2007 - Yearly Draw Activated! ]
[ Ballon d'Or-Level Long Shots: Paul Scholes ]
Now, he wasn't just a playmaker. He was a threat from anywhere. 35 yards out? Goal. Outside the box? Goal. His left foot was a cannon, a weapon defenders couldn't prepare for.
At 14 years old, he received the official call-up to Real Madrid Castilla.
His grandfather looked at him with pride. "You're ready for the next step."
Maradona simply smiled. "I've been ready since the beginning."
Now, the real journey would begin. And nothing would stop him.