My Ultimate Gacha System

The line was quiet for five seconds that felt longer.

Then Marco's voice came through, softer this time. "Okay. Then I'll speak to your mum. Explain it to her. And I'll call England and tell them you're accepting their invitation."

"Thanks, Marco," Demien said, and relief washed through him because he'd been dreading that conversation with his mother, dreading having to explain why he was choosing his father's country over hers. "Thanks for understanding."

"No problem. Anything to make you happy." Marco paused, then added, "But listen—if you have any issues, if anything happens, if this gets messy—you tell me immediately. You understand?"

"Yeah. For sure I would."

"Good. Now go back to sleep. It's four in the fucking morning."

The call ended, and Demien stood at the window for another minute watching the sky lighten gradually, and somewhere in the back of his mind David Drinkwater was laughing again because the journeyman who'd spent thirty-seven years being nobody was about to represent England at senior level.

He climbed back into bed and closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come easily.

Wednesday, September 4th, 2022 Bortolotti Training Complex 10:47 AM

Training started at ten with the usual warm-up routines, and Demien could feel eyes on him from the moment he stepped onto the pitch—not hostile, just curious, because news traveled fast in a professional squad and everyone had seen the headlines by now.

The passing drills went smoothly, technical work under the morning sun, and it wasn't until the water break that people started approaching.

De Roon came first, the captain's armband tight on his bicep and a grin on his face as he clapped Demien on the shoulder. "Congratulations. England's lucky to have you."

"Thanks," Demien said, still not quite used to hearing it out loud.

Koopmeiners walked over next with Lookman beside him, both nodding their approval, and Lookman said something about England's midfield getting stronger while Koopmeiners just offered a simple "Well done" that felt genuine.

Then Tolói appeared, and the Argentine defender's expression was different—professional, respectful, but with something underneath that carried weight.

"I would have loved to play with you for Italy," Tolói said, and his accent was thick but his English was clear. "But congratulations on picking England."

He paused, and a smile crossed his face that wasn't quite friendly.

"Just know that when we face each other in the national teams, we're not going to be friends on the pitch."

Demien laughed despite himself, the tension breaking, and he extended his hand. "Let's see how that goes then."

They shook, and Tolói walked away still smiling, and around them the training session continued as Gasperini's whistle cut through the morning air calling everyone back to work.

The system chimed softly.

「TRAINING SESSION COMPLETE」 「Quality: Good」 「REWARD: 10 TP」 「Current Balance: 275 TP | 0 SP | 116 MP」

Demien dismissed it and jogged back to join the tactical drill, and the morning passed without incident beyond the occasional congratulations from staff members and teammates who'd seen the news.

Wednesday, September 4th, 2022 Demien's Apartment 8:34 PM

His phone had been buzzing all day.

Not constantly, not enough to be overwhelming, but steady—a notification here, a message there, a tagged post every fifteen minutes—and by the time he got home from training and showered and made dinner, the accumulated noise had become impossible to ignore.

He sat on his couch with pasta in a bowl and his phone on the coffee table, and he unlocked the screen to find chaos waiting.

Twitter was trending with his name in Italy.

#WalterEngland #WalterTraitor #StayInItaly

He scrolled through the posts slowly, chewing pasta mechanically while reading what strangers thought about his decision.

@SerieAFanatic: Demien Walter choosing England over Italy is a disgrace. Plays in our league, develops in our system, then represents THEM? Embarrassing.

@AzzurriForever: I hope Walter realizes he's just made himself the most hated player in Serie A. Good luck getting respect now.

@CalcioTalk: Walter to England. Another talent lost because our federation moves too slow. Spalletti should have called him up after the Milan match.

@TacticalAnalyst_IT: Can't blame Walter for choosing England. Better pathway to playing time, stronger squad, World Cup pedigree. Italy's loss.

@MilanFan1899: Walter picked England and honestly I get it. Rice-Bellingham-Walter midfield in 2026? That's terrifying.

The comments went on and on, thousands of them, some angry, some understanding, some just disappointed, and underneath it all was the reality that he'd chosen one country over another and now both sides would judge him for it.

His Instagram DMs were worse.

Messages from Italian accounts telling him he'd never be forgiven, messages from English accounts welcoming him home, messages from Atalanta fans saying they supported him regardless, messages from people he'd never met telling him what they thought his decision meant about his character.

He set the phone down and ate another bite of pasta, and the bowl was half-empty when his phone lit up again with a new notification.

Sky Sports Italia

BREAKING: FA Confirms Demien Walter Has Accepted England Call-Up

Atalanta midfielder Demien Walter has officially accepted an invitation to represent England at senior international level, the FA confirmed this evening.

The 18-year-old, who qualifies for both England and Italy, met with England assistant manager Steve Holland last weekend and has opted to commit his international future to the Three Lions.

"We're delighted that Demien has chosen to represent England," an FA spokesperson said. "He's an exceptional young talent and we look forward to integrating him into the senior setup when the opportunity arises."

Italy's federation released a brief statement acknowledging Walter's decision: "We respect the player's choice and wish him well in his career."

Demien read it twice, and the second time through he felt something settle in his chest—finality, maybe, or acceptance that the decision was made and couldn't be taken back now.

His phone buzzed again.

A text from his mother.

Mum: Marco explained everything. I'm not happy but I understand. Just remember where you came from.

He stared at the message for a long moment before typing back.

Demien: I will. Love you.

Mum: Love you too.

The conversation ended there, and Demien set his phone face-down on the table and finished his pasta in silence while Bergamo's night settled outside his window.

England had him.

Italy had lost him.

And tomorrow the training would continue like nothing had changed, except everything had.