"Ding! You have obtained a star-level skill: Wolf King Totti's Panenka Chip!"
"A Panenka is an art—a daring attacking art that takes nerves of steel. Only someone with solid fundamentals and a boundless imagination can pull off a shot like that."
Lu Yang let out a long breath.
This wasn't the skill he wanted most right now: a skill for shaking off defenders or passing.
If the system had given him Totti's one-touch passing, it might have been more useful to him.
But... who could possibly turn down Wolf King Totti's audacious Panenka?
Besides, this skill gave Lu Yang a huge boost to his basic attributes.
His attacking positioning had gone from 50 to 55.
His dribbling had gone from 55 to 60. That was a stat that could transform him. And a Panenka on the run—in other words, a chip shot—placed real demands on a player's dribbling.
His shooting had gone from 55 to 60. That was just as important, because it put his shooting ability at the top level of Serie C!
Before, if Lu Yang lost his Dipping Shot, he no longer had the ability to score with his feet. Now, though, he could truly say he had his own scoring touch.
Any shot he took, no matter how he struck the ball, would be dangerous. He was no longer limited to just one kind of shot.
His curve stat had been activated, and stood at 50.
At first glance, curve might not seem all that useful. But on the big stage, in the higher leagues, it became incredibly important.
At that level, every player you faced would be world-class. They might go through an entire ninety-minute match without making a single mistake. Whether you were passing or shooting, you wouldn't get another chance.
At that point, all you could do was rely on an otherworldly curve on the ball to create chances where none existed.
Players with good curve were far less likely to have their one-on-ones saved, because they could bend the ball around the goalkeeper's fingertips.
San Remo's victory over Pagani had a huge impact.
From that moment on, they had entered the genuine promotion places.
The top three teams in Serie D would be promoted directly to Serie C.
The fourth- and fifth-place teams would face teams in the Serie C relegation zone in playoffs to determine who stayed in Serie C.
After this round of matches, the standings had been thrown into chaos.
With only six rounds left in the league, every upcoming match would be crucial.
Bisceglie still led the league with 65 points, even after being held to a draw this round.
The reason no one called them "comfortably top of the table" was that their form in the second half of the season had been far from impressive, especially after their loss to San Remo.
Arnold's injury, along with that of the team's starting right back, had brought Bisceglie's momentum to a halt. Even after Arnold returned, the blow to his confidence had left him less threatening.
That gave Francavilla an opportunity.
Francavilla also had 65 points and sat second in the standings.
They had lost to Bisceglie in the first half of the season, so they ranked second on head-to-head record.
Their second-half match against Bisceglie was scheduled for the final round. Some people speculated it might end up deciding the title race.
But after Francavilla won this round, their starting striker was sidelined with a thigh strain. He was expected to return in five or six matches.
There was a good chance he wouldn't play again this season.
That cast a shadow over Francavilla's fans.
The closer the season came to its end, the more intense the matches became. Everyone was fighting for points, and Francavilla could easily stumble in the rounds ahead.
Turris sat third in the standings.
They were a traditional powerhouse, and had grown much stronger after loaning an excellent center-forward from Serie B last season.
Aside from the first five matches of the season, they had spent the rest of it in the top five.
They were highly likely to be one of the teams promoted this year.
More importantly, Turris were San Remo's opponents in the thirty-eighth round.
That match could also decide a promotion spot, if San Remo could keep their nerve.
Palermo, on 64 points, sat fourth. They were a familiar fixture on the promotion-relegation carousel. They had earned promotion to Serie C three times in the past five years, and had plenty of experience getting there, but they had never managed to establish themselves in the league.
That kind of thing wasn't common in the lower leagues. Once many lower-division teams were relegated, they sank without a trace.
It was actually the higher leagues that had a few regular yo-yo clubs.
What those teams lacked wasn't a chance to reach a higher league. They lacked stable investment, good coaches, a sensible system for signing and releasing players, and relatively conservative tactics.
That was why some people believed that, with enough investment, Palermo could even reach Serie A within ten years!
As it happened, San Remo's next opponents were Palermo.
San Remo naturally sat fifth in the standings, with 60 points. Even if they won their next match, they couldn't overtake Palermo. But if they lost, Palermo would open up a seven-point gap.
At this late stage of the season, that was a massive difference.
So San Remo had to win their next match.
Finally, the team in sixth place was Catania, whom San Remo had faced earlier in the season. They had 59 points.
In the third match of the second half of the season—in round twenty-two—San Remo had beaten Catania 2–1, with Lu Yang heading home a last-minute winner.
It was also the last of Lu Yang's three consecutive match-winning goals.
Catania still had a chance to fight for promotion. After all, a single point could easily be made up.
With six matches left, there was only a six-point gap between the top six teams in Serie D.
That meant anything was possible.
One unlucky team would finish the season without even getting a shot at the promotion playoffs.
After training, Soto gathered all the players and asked them to stay behind. Then he explained the situation to them.
"Do you know what this kind of standings means?" Soto asked when he was done.
Most of the players shook their heads.
Rondo said, "It means we need to work hard so we don't end up among the most miserable seventeen percent—the teams with no chance of promotion!"
Soto said, "That's right, but not quite."
Moric said, "It means we still have a chance at direct promotion! We're only four points behind third place, and we play them next!"
Soto smiled. "Right, but..."
Lu Yang jumped in. "The title!"
It was a completely unfamiliar word.
Judging by everyone's reaction, Lu Yang could tell that not one player on this team had ever experienced the glory of winning a title.
Soto suddenly raised his voice. "That's right! The title! Comrades, as the captain of an Italian Serie A championship team, a Champions League championship team, and a World Cup-winning team, I can tell you with complete confidence..."
"We have a shot at the title!"
"Five points. That's just two matches!"
"Do you want to play in the playoffs? Tell me, do you want to play in those damned playoffs?"
"No!" The players gradually came around, responding to Soto with growing enthusiasm.
"Don't tell me that second or third place can get promoted too—that's a load of crap. I, Soto, came to Serie D with only one goal: to lead you fledglings, who have never tasted victory, and let you experience what it feels like to be champions!" Soto roared. "Believe me, if you're lucky enough to reach a higher level, you'll find that..."
"At the highest level of football, there's only one winner!"
"Everyone else is irrelevant!"
"Now tell me, what's our goal?"
Every player on the pitch shouted until their throats were raw. "The title!"
Everyone was fired up.
The title!
All they wanted was the title!
To hell with fifth place in the standings!
To hell with being the weakest team in the top five!
Those were just illusions Soto had created.
His ambition was enormous.
He had the mentality of a champion and plenty of experience fighting for titles.
That might well be San Remo's greatest source of strength!
A few dozen seconds later.
"Alright, lads. Now that we've settled on our goal, I need to tell you something." Soto held up one finger. "We only need to lose one match—just one—and we're out of the title race. Do you understand?"
The crowd's enthusiasm faded instantly.
One loss, and we're done?
But...
"And if we fail to win two matches..." Soto held up two fingers. "Then our season is a total failure, because we could really end up as one of those unlucky seventeen percent."
"But I don't think that would be bad luck. I think it would mean we weren't good enough."
"Would you rather be weaklings everyone laughs at, or champions who pull off a miracle? Which will it be?"
"The title!" Everyone shouted again.
In the crowd, Vedian wore a thoughtful expression. "Is the title really that important?"
Yes. For some people, the title didn't matter.
Vedian was leaving after the season, and the team's honors didn't mean much to him.
Especially since he would most likely be joining a Serie B team, and this was only a Serie D title.
His record of twenty-three goals and eight assists was already impressive enough.
In fact, for him, winning the matches ahead might matter less than scoring a goal or making an assist.
"Believe me, the title matters." Lu Yang patted Vedian on the shoulder. "Winning becomes a habit. Only when you get used to everything that comes with being a champion can you win more titles."
"In the Champions League, no team making its first final has ever won. That's the best proof."
"Even head coaches and coaching staffs take that into account when choosing players, especially for major tournaments."
"Even a Serie D title will become part of your DNA. It's still championship mentality!"
Vedian's eyes lit up.
If it could help him compete for playing time at a Serie B team next season, he was more than willing to bring San Remo a trophy.
Moric patted Lu Yang on the shoulder. "Tell me you're not after my title as the league's top assist provider!"
Moric had scored once and assisted once in the latest round. His current record stood at four goals and twelve assists.
That had put him at the top of the league assist charts.
Winning the assist title halfway through the season was an astonishing achievement.
But in the same round, Lu Yang had recorded his first hat trick of assists, bringing his personal tally to ten goals and nine assists!
Lu Yang was also among the top five on the assist charts.
He had a good chance of finishing the season with the remarkable double-double of ten goals and ten assists.
If he kept up the pace while Moric faced more defensive attention, he might even have a shot at taking the assist title from him.
"What are you talking about? We're brothers. Would I do that?" Lu Yang pretended to take offense.
"True, we're brothers." Moric nodded. He'd been too suspicious. How could Lu Yang be that kind of person?
"Of course, if you're having trouble getting things going, passing me the ball might not be a bad idea." Lu Yang winked at Moric.
"Ha! So you are after my assist title!" Moric caught on.
The two of them joked around.
But neither of them really cared that much about the stats.
At least, Serie D stats weren't important.
Their biggest drawback was the lack of prestige.
Only stats that were far beyond the norm could show how good you were.
For example, if everyone else scored twenty goals and you scored fifty, that would show you were far above the level of the league.
This season, both Lu Yang and Moric had only played for half the year. The fact that they were already competing for awards was remarkable.
But their stats still weren't far enough ahead of the other players in the league.
Before long, round thirty-three of the league kicked off.
Catania, who were sixth in the league, suffered two consecutive draws. They had 60 points, and their position remained unchanged.
Francavilla's starting striker was out, and the impact was indeed enormous. Against Pagani, who had lost to San Remo the previous round, Francavilla were overwhelmed by their opponents' relentless attack and lost 4–1.
They remained on 65 points, missing their best chance to take the top spot.
San Remo's players watched the match too, and immediately felt more at ease.
So even the second-place team struggled against Pagani. We're not doing that badly after all—we beat them, didn't we?
You had to admit that Pagani, a team that played nothing but attacking football, were expert giant-killers who robbed from the rich and gave to the poor. They often took points from stronger teams, then dropped them against weaker sides.
And in the crucial final rounds, they could even deal a crushing blow to a rival's spirit.
At least after this defeat, many people had already written Francavilla off as title contenders.
They'd been rattled!
They were afraid.
The good news was that Bisceglie had also lost, remaining on 65 points.
And Bisceglie had lost badly.
They had been beaten by Turris, who had ranked third the previous round.
As a result, Turris had risen to 67 points and climbed to the top of the table!
Given how consistent Turris had been, they were now the overwhelming favorites to win the title.
Bisceglie had spent almost the entire season at the top of the table, only to be caught in the final few rounds. Their relentless loss of points in the second half of the season had been a disastrous collapse.
Among the top six, only Palermo and San Remo had yet to play.
The previous round, Palermo and Turris had been level on points. Turris had ranked ahead of Palermo thanks to their one-goal advantage in goal difference.
This round, if Palermo won by two goals or more, they would take first place in the Serie D standings.
This was Palermo's chance to reach the top.
But it was also San Remo's first match in their push for the title.
No one could afford to lose!