The morning after the PSG match, Ibukun woke to sunlight streaming through his apartment windows. His body ached—deep, bone-tired exhaustion that even the System's accelerated recovery protocols couldn't fully erase. He flexed his left ankle, testing the lingering stiffness from Danilo's late tackle. The joint held. Good enough.
The System's diagnostics pulsed in his vision:
***RECOVERY REPORT***
→ **Neural Fatigue:** 89% → 62% (Post-Rest Recalibration)
→ **Ankle Sprain:** 72% Healed
→ **Recommended:** Light Training Only (24 Hours)
He ignored it.
---
### **The Training Ground**
Lille's practice facility buzzed with post-derby energy. Teammates clapped him on the back as he stepped onto the pitch—Jonathan David grinning as he tossed a ball at Ibukun's chest.
"That third goal?" The Canadian striker shook his head. "Filthy. Even Mbappé looked pissed."
Ibukun trapped the ball, his ankle only protesting slightly. "Couldn't have done it without your run dragging Marquinhos away."
It wasn't modesty. The System's post-match analysis had highlighted David's decoy movement as the key that unlocked PSG's backline.
Coach Fonseca blew his whistle, splitting them into possession drills. The session was light—recovery-focused—but the System never stopped working.
***TRAINING ADAPTATION***
→ **Monitoring:** David's off-ball movement patterns
→ **Noted:** Right winger Angel Gomes favors early crosses when cutting inside
Jay-Jay's hologram materialized near the corner flag, arms crossed. *"You're learning. Took me years to realize football's a team sport."*
---
### **The Unraveling**
It happened during a simple passing drill.
One moment, Ibukun was threading a through ball to David. The next, the world tilted—his vision swimming with static as his knees buckled. The impact with the turf barely registered.
Voices blurred around him:
"—heart rate's through the roof—"
"—not normal fatigue—"
Valentina's face swam into view, her usual composure shattered. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Her fingers dug into his wrist. "The medics say your cortisol levels look like you've been to war."
The System's warning flashed red at the edge of his consciousness:
***NEURAL OVERLOAD***
→ **Cause:** Prolonged simulation overuse
→ **Mandatory Rest:** 72 Hours (No Training, No Matches)
→ **Failure to Comply:** Risk of system failure
Then—blackness.
---
### **The Aftermath**
He woke in a private clinic, the sterile scent of antiseptic thick in the air. Valentina sat slumped in a chair nearby, her blazer wrinkled, eyes shadowed.
"You've been out for fourteen hours," she said, voice raw. "The doctors can't explain it. Your bloodwork looks like you've run ten marathons back-to-back." She leaned forward. "What aren't you telling me?"
Ibukun flexed his hands. The System's interface flickered weakly.
***STATUS UPDATE***
→ **Neural Fatigue:** 41% (Stabilizing)
→ **Physical Recovery:** 88%
→ **Warning:** Further overuse may trigger permanent damage
"I overtrained," he said finally.
Valentina studied him for a long moment before sighing. "Perez's offer came with a condition. They want you to undergo a full medical before signing." Her lips twisted. "I told them to fuck off."
For the first time, Ibukun saw something like real fear in her eyes.
---
### **The Return**
Three days later, he was cleared to play. The Ligue 1 schedule waited for no one—a crucial match against Monaco loomed.
The locker room buzzed with tension pre-game. David caught his arm. "We've got your back. Just don't do anything stupid."
From kickoff, it was clear Lille had adapted. Gomes and David took turns carrying the attacking load, their interplay carving Monaco open twice in the first twenty minutes.
The System's new alerts were cautious:
***MATCH MODE (CONSERVATIVE)***
→ **Focus:** Positioning over explosiveness
→ **Allowed SP Expenditure:** 300 Max
When the breakthrough came, it was a team goal—Gomes dancing past two defenders before squaring to David, who laid it off for Ibukun's late run. The finish was simple, almost casual.
1-0.
Monaco equalized against the run of play, but it was David who sealed the win late—Ibukun's disguised pass sending him through on goal.
2-1. Full time.
---
### **The Realization**
Back in his apartment, the System's post-match analysis highlighted something new:
***TEAM SYNERGY BONUS***
→ **Assists:** 1 (David Goal)
→ **Key Passes:** 4
→ **Observation:** Collective play reduces neural load by 22%
Jay-Jay's hologram sat on the couch, uncharacteristically quiet.
*"Took you long enough,"* he said finally. *"Even Maradona needed Caniggia."*
---