"Why are they not playing football?,"
"Hey why are you taking so long? Start the match already. We have lives hurry up and start the match."
"Yeah, we've been here for hours now—why haven't they started playing the match? Some of us placed bets."
"Shit fuck, now I will lose money by default."
One spectator, out of breath from running, said, "I heard one of the player, what's his name again, Wis… oh yeah, his name is Winston. Apparently he has been missing since last week,"
"What? Did that little shit, ran away, fuck I put money on him," said one man who was reeking of alcohol.
Everyone around held their noses, one spectator, who couldn't hold it anymore, said, "Old man, why are you drunk this early in the morning? You smell—go take a bath. Jesus Christ."
The old man turn scanning the group with a malicious look and said, "Who the fuck said, Mind your own business." He continued yelling
On the other side of the field, murmurs continued, some even shouted, "Coach, what's taking so long? I bet a lot of money on this match."
From below the ground, the head coach was busy asking people and teammates whether they had seen Winston, Winston has been missing for a week now.
Most people last saw him wandering the hotel's ground floor. The stadium erupted in boos as some individuals hurled insults at the coach. Maximilian leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He had a smirk on his face, the striker coach was sitting on the bench, leaning back in his seat. He remained unconcerned by the unfolding events, as he was not the one missing.
Winston jogged past Maximilian a few minutes later; Maximilian, who was smirking, watched Winston walking toward the head coach. Winston was surprised to see the stadium packed with people, and some were even watching from beyond a large training ground fence. Upon returning from the simulation, his body was covered in sweat, yet his energy was restored to its maximum. "I am sorry, coach, I was running around the block"
Shaking his head, the head coach looked at Winston and said, "It's okay, I will let this one pass, but next time I would have to punish you." Noticing Maximilian approaching, the head coach said, "You two play nice, this match is a training, not a death match don't injure each other, and don't forget the match stake,"
Maximilian bumped Winston's shoulder, under his breath, he said, "Mmm, I'll show you what a best player looks like," Maximilian chuckled and he looked over his shoulder, "I hope you don't embarrass yourself, tsk."
As Maximilian was about to walk away, Winston chuckled, "Make sure you bring your all too, I don't want you to embarrass yourself. I hope you enjoy your time on the bench," Maximilian sneered and walked away, the entire team witnessed the exchange, the air turned thick and oppressive.. Some teammates knew about Winston and Maximilian beef, some only found out right now—murmured amongst the teammates. Despite the spectators cheers, Winston remained unfazed. "Glad you're back, you can go change your clothes, we will start with warm-ups," said Oswin, high-fiving Winston,
A few minutes passed, Winston came out of the changing room and jogged toward the head coach, who advised them that it was a friendly match. Not a match for them to injure each other, he instructed both Winston and Maximilian that whoever loses will only be benched for three matches, not a death or career-ending bet. Both Winston and Maximilian nodded, but still looked at each with a malicious look.
Since Winston's side started the previous match, the head coach told Maximilian to start the match. Stretching himself, Winston looked at Oswin, who nodded back to him. Scanning the crowd who were eagerly watching the field, Winston only saw Annalise in the crowd, but there was no Dumi amongst the crowd. Oswin tapped Winston's shoulder, "I am sure Dumi is here somewhere, I can even see Zabalini too. Maybe they don't want to make us nervous,"
"I hope so. Come on—let's see who can score more goals.,"
"Now you are speaking my language. Lets see who got the best mentor, and make sure you enjoy yourself," Oswin said, running to his position.
Fweet! Fweet! Fweet!
Maximilian grinned at Winston before passing the ball to the youth beside him. The players exchanged a few quick passes, drawing Winston and Oswin forward.
"Here!" Maximilian called for the ball, the pass came toward him. He cushioned it under his foot before dragging the ball forward and charging straight at Winston and Oswin.
Oswin stepped in first.
Maximilian suddenly stopped, stepped over the ball, and twisted his body. With a quick heel flick, he sent the ball sailing over Oswin's head. Using Oswin as a screen, Maximilian burst past him and charged straight toward Winston. Winston shifted his body to close the gap, but Maximilian's acceleration caught him off guard. With a sharp touch, Maximilian pushed the ball past him and exploded into open space.
Two more Westminster players rushed to close him down—it didn't matter. Maximilian weaved between them with ease before driving toward the goalkeeper. The keeper rushed off his line, trying to narrow the angle. Maximilian waited until the last possible moment before cutting the ball to the side.
The goalkeeper committed, he dived in the opposite direction. Maximilian calmly slotted the ball into the open net.
Thwack!
The stadium erupted—Maximilian turned toward the crowd with a confident grin, while the supporters who had bet on him celebrated as though they had already won.
"Damn it, this kid's actually serious... Fuck, I wish I'd bet on him."
"It's too late now. I'm about to be rich! Finally, my wife won't know I bet our entire savings."
The crowd dissolved into a mixture of cheers, groans, and frantic shouting as money and pride became more important than the actual match. Winston, however, remained calm—the noise barely registered.
One goal. His eyes stayed fixed on Maximilian. That's all.
He jogged over to Oswin, who was still shaking his head.
"You're good," Winston said with a grin. "He just made a fool out of you."
Oswin laughed and pointed at Winston. "Look who's talking! He made a fool out of you too." He slapped Winston lightly on the shoulder. "He's pumped now. You better take him seriously."
[User Daily Challenge]
[Score: 00/04]
[Goal heading: 00/01]
[Cripple Maximilian]
Winston narrowed his eyes. For a brief moment, he sensed something strange while Maximilian was dribbling past him. Was that... another residual effect from the simulation? He shook his head and dismissed the thought.
"I guess I have to," Winston said.
He and Oswin exchanged a low five before jogging back into position. When play restarted, Winston passed the ball to Oswin, who immediately returned it to the midfielders. The ball moved back and forth between them as Winston's side patiently built their attack. When the ball eventually returned to Winston, a youth rushed toward him to close him down. Winston flicked the ball over the oncoming defender before using the outside of his foot to send a perfectly weighted through ball toward Oswin on the left.
Oswin received it smoothly. He performed a quick body feint, dragging the ball between his legs and sending the defender stumbling in the opposite direction. Then he accelerated—Oswin raced down the left flank, his dribbling so agile that he seemed like the wind sweeping through a forest. Winston darted into the box and maintained his pace, preparing himself for a header.
Oswin continued dribbling along the edge of the penalty area before cutting inside. Then he crossed—Winston sprinted forward and leaped into the air, mirroring the movement they had practiced countless times. But just as he was about to connect with the ball—Maximilian appeared out of nowhere.
Thud!
He headed the ball away from Winston and sent it toward the center of the pitch. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Maximilian burst into a full sprint. Winston immediately chased after him, For a brief moment, Winston felt something surge through his body.
My speed... increased?
He pushed harder—when he caught up to Maximilian, Winston slipped the ball cleanly between his legs before pivoting around him and accelerating toward the edge of the penalty area. Two defenders slid across to intercept him. Winston didn't hesitate—instead of taking the shot himself, he slipped the ball toward Oswin, who had been sprinting into the space behind the two defenders. The pass traveled in a smooth arc toward Oswin.
Oswin met it in stride, with a single touch, he struck the ball. The shot bent sharply through the air, curving nearly ninety degrees toward the bottom-right corner. The goalkeeper launched himself across the goalmouth. But he was too late, the ball nestled into the bottom corner of the net.
Thwack!
As the spectators erupted into cheers, both players had injected fresh excitement into the match. What had begun as a one-sided display was now turning into a close contest. Even the head coach looked surprised. Winston had always been something of a ball hog, often relying on his individual ability instead of involving his teammates. But what he had just displayed was completely different.
Winston and Oswin celebrated with their teammates before jogging back into position. Across the pitch, Maximilian glanced toward the striker coach. The coach simply stared back at him with an indifferent expression. Maximilian's smile faded for a moment. Then it returned, he turned his attention toward Winston and Oswin.
"Interesting..." he muttered. "Time to get serious now."
He lowered his gaze toward his hand and slowly flexed his fingers. At least I took the pill before coming onto the field. A strange sensation pulsed through his body. I can feel it now.
His grin widened. Time to show this loser who's really the best player in this club.