My Ultimate Gacha System

Wednesday, September 4th, 2022 Demien's Apartment, Bergamo 4:03 AM

The phone vibrated hard against the nightstand, the sound cutting through the darkness of the bedroom like a knife, and Demien's eyes opened slowly as his brain struggled to process why anything would be ringing at four in the morning.

He reached out blindly, his hand finding the phone and pulling it close enough to see the screen, and Marco's name glowed bright against the black background.

Why the hell is Marco calling right now?

He swiped to answer and pressed the phone to his ear, his voice rough with sleep. "Marco?"

"Why am I just hearing about England inviting you to represent them?" Marco's voice came through loud and sharp, no greeting, no preamble, just accusation. "Or are you waiting for Italy to come for you too before you tell me anything?"

Demien sat up slowly, rubbing his face with his free hand, the system's notification from earlier training sessions still sitting in his peripheral vision showing his updated balance after two days of work.

「Current Balance: 265 TP | 0 SP | 116 MP」

He dismissed it and focused on Marco's voice.

"Hey Marco," Demien said, trying to find something resembling patience at four in the morning. "At least say good morning before you start going off about the invitation."

There was a pause on the other end, then a breath, then Marco's voice came back slightly softer. "Oh. Sorry about that. Good morning."

"Good morning," Demien replied, and he couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face despite the ungodly hour. "Was that why you're calling me at four AM?"

"Yeah," Marco said, and the edge returned to his tone. "Because why the fuck am I finding out about this through the media, Demien? The media!"

Demien's eyebrows pulled together. "What? Media? What media?"

"Check your phone. I'm sending you a link right now."

The notification appeared at the top of the screen—a message from Marco with a URL attached—and Demien tapped it, the browser opening and loading for three seconds before the page appeared.

THE ATHLETIC - ENGLAND FOOTBALL

EXCLUSIVE: England Set to Capture Dual-National Wonderkid Demien Walter

By James Pearce | 4 September 2022

Demien's eyes widened as he read, the words processing slowly through the fog of being woken up too early.

The FA can reveal that England assistant manager Steve Holland met with 18-year-old Atalanta midfielder Demien Walter last Saturday following his man-of-the-match performance against Lecce.

Sources close to the England setup confirm that Walter, who qualifies for both England and Italy through his parentage, is on the verge of accepting an invitation to represent the Three Lions at senior level.

Holland and England's technical team were initially in Italy to monitor Chelsea's Fikayo Tomori but were left impressed by Walter's displays against both AC Milan and Lecce, with the teenager recording two goals and five assists in his opening three Serie A appearances.

"The coaching staff see enormous potential," one FA source told The Athletic. "His technical ability, tactical intelligence, and maturity at just 18 years old suggest he could be a significant asset for England's midfield in the coming years."

While Italy's federation is expected to make their own approach given Walter's Italian heritage through his mother, sources suggest the player is leaning toward representing England, the country of his birth.

If confirmed, Walter would become one of the youngest players to receive an England call-up in recent years, though no official announcement has been made regarding squad selection for the upcoming international window.

Demien scrolled down and found more articles—Sky Sports, BBC Sport, The Guardian, The Telegraph—all running variations of the same story, all citing "sources close to the player" and "FA insiders" and all claiming he was about to commit to England.

The comments sections were chaos.

English fans celebrating, Italian fans outraged, tactical analysts debating where he'd fit in Southgate's system, and underneath it all a running argument about loyalty and heritage and whether an 18-year-old had the right to choose his own international future.

"Marco," Demien said slowly, still staring at the screen. "I'm looking at it."

"So?" Marco's voice came sharp again. "You want to explain why I'm reading about my own client's international career decisions in The fucking Athletic at three in the morning instead of hearing about it from you?"

Demien set the phone down and put it on speaker, running both hands through his hair as he tried to organize his thoughts into something that made sense.

"After the Lecce match," he started, his voice steadier now, "England's assistant coach and one of their staff came to see me. Steve Holland. They were in the coach's office when Gasperini called me in."

"And?"

"And they said they'd been watching me. Milan match last week, then Lecce. They sent clips to Southgate. They want me to play for England."

Marco was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again his tone had shifted from anger to something closer to hurt. "So why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was still thinking," Demien said, and the words came out more defensive than he intended. "I was planning on making a video call to you and Mum together, tell you both at the same time. I'm sorry you had to find out like this."

Marco sighed, long and heavy through the speaker. "It's cool. But what have you decided? You planning on representing them, or are you waiting for Italy to make an offer first?"

Demien stood and walked to the window, looking out at Bergamo in the pre-dawn darkness, and the answer formed in his mind with a clarity that surprised him because he'd been thinking about it for three days and the decision had already been made somewhere deeper than conscious thought.

"Mum won't want me to represent England," he said quietly. "She hates my dad. Anything connected to him, anything English—she despises it."

"So you're going with Italy?"

"No." The word came out flat and certain. "I don't plan on playing for Italy."

Marco went silent.

"Someone I hate has already been called up for Italy," Demien continued, and Adriano's face flashed through his mind—the Fiorentina wonderkid who'd looked at him like he was nothing during that U23 match. "And to be honest, I know it'll be tough to break into England's midfield. They're stacked. Rice, Bellingham, Mount, Henderson, Phillips—I know that. But I think it's the best option for me."

"Are you sure?" Marco asked, and his voice carried weight now, the weight of knowing what was coming. "The Italians won't take this lightly. You play in Serie A, you're developing in Italy, and you're going to represent England? The backlash is going to be serious."

"To be honest," Demien said, and he watched the first hints of light start to touch the horizon, "I don't really care. I do care about the fans, but this is the 21st century. They should grow up. I have my reasons, and when the backlash comes I'll know how to handle it."

The line was quiet for five seconds that felt longer.