With an echoing laugh, Maximilian seemed to anticipate Winston's move before he even made it. Winston dashed toward the ball, Maximilian moved. In an instant, he flashed past Winston like a blur.
"Come on now," Maximilian said in a deep, resonant voice. "Is this what you've been practicing with Dumi Crowe?"
He moved like a serpent through the slowed-down Westminster players. With a flick of his heel, he sent the ball flying toward Winston's goal. His pupils glowed a brilliant neon blue. Before Winston could react, Maximilian had already crossed the field and forced him back toward his own goal.
"Pick it up," Maximilian's voice echoed. "Pick the ball up."
The ball rolled into the net, Winston stared at it for a moment before dribbling it back onto the field. The atmosphere around Maximilian had changed. A dark mist mixed with an eerie blue glow steamed from his body, spreading across the field like smoke.
Winston struggled to breathe, The pressure was overwhelming. It felt as though invisible hands were squeezing his internal organs. The translucent Core System interface flickered violently before his eyes, its notifications becoming distorted and unreadable. Warm blood trickled from the corners of Winston's mouth. He gritted his teeth and dragged himself and the ball toward the center circle. Coughing violently, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth before forcing himself upright.
The sine wave returned, Its frequency fluctuated rapidly in his ears. Winston's breathing grew heavier. He flicked the ball upward, caught it around knee height, and struck it with everything he had. The ball soared into the air in a high, arcing trajectory. But Maximilian didn't move, he simply watched as the ball sailed over his head.
A sinister smirk spread across his face, Winston collapsed onto his back. Maximilian disappeared—a second later, he caught the falling ball and gently placed his foot on it. His expression changed—annoyance replaced the amusement in his eyes.
He had expected something more. He had imagined a grand, life-threatening battle between two players fighting for the top spot in the club.
Instead, Winston was barely standing. Is this really all he has?
Maximilian had also noticed something strange, every time he pushed Winston to his limits, he could hear it. That faint sine wave—it came and went, almost as if it were being emitted from Winston's body. Maximilian had assumed Winston had taken the same pill he had. That was why he had been waiting for Winston to awaken. But seeing him in this condition...
Pathetic.
Meanwhile, the core system inside Winston was desperately trying to restore his energy. It had already recovered him from the brink of collapse several times, but now it was stuck at fifty percent. The pressure coming from Maximilian was too great. The Nethen Essence fought to replenish Winston's energy, but it couldn't Maximilian pressure pressed Winston down.
Winston struggled to his feet, heavy breaths escaped his mouth. Maximilian's aura suddenly surged. A violent wave of pressure struck Winston and forced him several steps backward.
Maximilian smiled. "Since you can still stand..." He flicked the ball toward his knees. "...let's continue." He spun in midair and kicked.
SHRIEEEK!
The ball tore through the air at an astonishing speed. Winston felt his entire body go cold. At the last possible moment, his instincts took over.
He twisted his body, the ball passed within centimeters of his face.
Winston watched it disappear behind him, but Maximilian was already there. He intercepted the ball and kicked it again. Winston narrowly dodged. He leaped upward, attempting to avoid the next strike. Maximilian simply used his foot to ricochet the ball upward.
THUD!
The ball slammed into Winston's back.
"Ugh!"
Winston crashed onto the field, Maximilian laughed. The sound seemed to echo throughout the entire stadium. He struck the ball again, And again, and again. The ball ricocheted around Winston from different directions, turning him into a helpless target.
For what felt like an eternity, the assault continued. Finally, Maximilian drove the ball directly into Winston's stomach.
THUD!
Winston slammed into the grass.
"Wake up." Maximilian landed lightly a few meters away. "Don't you want to fight for that starting-eleven spot?"
His voice echoed menacingly. "You can't tell me this is all Dumi Crowe taught you."
Winston clutched his stomach and coughed blood. Slowly, he forced himself upright.
"Mmm..." A weak grin appeared on his face. "Hehe..."
He wiped the blood from his mouth. "You still haven't beaten me." Winston straightened his back. "I'm still standing."
Maximilian's grin widened. "I wonder how long that'll last." In a flash, Maximilian appeared beside him and grabbed Winston by the hair. "I saw your match back when you played in the Supreme League."
THUD!
Winston's face slammed into the torn grass. "You were shit then..."
THUD!
"...and you're still shit now." Maximilian yanked him upward. "Imagine being compared to me."
THUD!
"Me." He laughed. "Me? A trash like you being compared to me?"
Another impact shook the ground. "Don't make me laugh." Maximilian released him. "A trash like you deserves to sit on the bench for the rest of the season."
He hurled Winston across the field, the fluctuating sine wave suddenly became deafening. Winston's vision warped, The cold sensation that had appeared during his previous awakening spread down his legs.
He glanced at his feet, A strange aura seemed to be moving inside his feet. Winston crouched low, assuming a sprinter's stance. His stomach still burned, His entire body ached. But he forced himself forward. At lightning speed, Winston charged toward Maximilian.
Maximilian smiled, he tapped it slightly forward. The two forwards collided—they began dribbling across the field, their movements becoming nothing more than streaks of light. They even crossed beyond the boundaries of the pitch and raced through the frozen crowd. Only one sound remained, their shoulders collided.
THUD!
They collided again.
THUD!
Again.
The battle between the two forwards continued for what felt like hours. Finally, they crashed into each other near the center of the field and slid apart. Winston lay on his side, gasping for air, Across from him, Maximilian was also breathing heavily.
Then Maximilian coughed a mouthful of blood spilled from his lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"Hahaha..." His grin returned. "Hehehe..."
He stared directly at Winston. "This is what I'm talking about." He slowly rose to his feet. "Now let's see who can last longer."
Both players narrowed their eyes, The ball slowly rolled into the center of the field. Neither said another word, Both exploded toward the ball at lightning speed.
Maximilian reached it first—with a sharp heel elastico, he flicked the ball over Winston. He spun his body and unleashed a powerful spin kick toward Winston's side of the field. Winston sprinted after it—the ball suddenly curved. One hundred and eighty degrees.
CLANG!
It smashed against the white goalpost. The ball ricocheted violently back across the field. Straight toward the crowd, Straight toward Annalise. She stood among several hotel employees, watching the match in stunned silence. Winston's eyes widened.
"ANNALISE!"
He pushed himself into a full sprint.
[The Core is now entering restoration]
[50 Seconds]
The moment the ball struck his knee, a sickening crack echoed across the field. Winston's kneecap snapped under the impact. He staggered backward with a strangled groan, clutching his leg as agony shot through his body. His eyes burned with anger as he glared at Maximilian, who stood among Winston's teammates. Maximilian wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and laughed.
"You should've focused on training instead of fucking around."
[User Daily Challenge]
[Score: 01/04]
[Goal heading: 00/01]
[Cripple Maximilian]
[Cripple Maximilian]
[Cripple Maximilian]
[Cripple Maximilian]
[Cripple Maximilian]
[Cripple Maximilian]
[Cripple Maximilian]
Sensing that his limit was approaching, Winston closed his eyes and took several slow, controlled breaths.
If this is my last game... I hope I can at least finish this final challenge and cripple this bastard. Mom... Dad... please forgive me. It looks like this might be my last match.
I wonder if Dad would let me work at the harbor. I'm sorry, Coach Dumi. I guess I won't be able to revive your legacy as a legendary striker after all.
Winston opened his eyes and fixed a vicious stare on Maximilian. Both youths exploded toward the ball. This time, Winston reached it first. He dribbled forward before using the tip of his cleat to flick the ball up toward his waist. As Maximilian stepped in, Winston sent the ball sailing over his head. In the same motion, he swung his other leg forward and drove his foot into Maximilian's stomach.
Thud!
Maximilian was sent sliding across the field toward his own side. He coughed violently, another mouthful of blood escaping his lips. His hand clutched his stomach as the dark, blue-neon aura surrounding him gradually faded.
Winston was breathing heavily, He pushed the ball several meters away and steadied himself.
One more. He planted his feet. Then, under his breath, he whispered—"Spear."
The ball tore through the air. Its trajectory twisted into a smooth S-shape as it accelerated toward Maximilian.
BOOM!
The ball slammed directly into Maximilian's stomach. The impact lifted him several meters off the ground before he crashed onto his back. The ball rolled away as the remaining aura surrounding him vanished completely. A tremendous gust of wind erupted from the point of impact, scattering across the field and whipping through the stadium.
Winston dropped onto his hands and knees, He coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth.
Everything went silent. "What... happened?"
A spectator stared at the ruined field in disbelief. "Wasn't the match just restarting?"
Another spectator pointed toward the two players lying on the ground. "Look at the pitch! It's like a war zone!"
"Did I miss something?"
"Then who won?"
"That kid Maximilian isn't even moving!"
Across the field, Oswin and several teammates sprinted toward Winston. Club personnel rushed toward both players, desperately trying to assess their condition.
"Yo, Wis! Can you hear me?"
"Winston!"
"Medic! We need medical assistance!"
One of the staff members dropped beside Maximilian and checked his pulse. Then he reached toward the ball.
Whoosh!
A powerful pulse of wind erupted from it, throwing the staff member several meters backward. Everyone froze—confused murmurs spread throughout the stadium.
"What the hell was that?"
"Did you see that?"
"What is happening?"
High above the stadium, Diana sat on a hotel balcony with a tablet resting on her lap. Her eyes remained fixed on the screen. Before the match had begun, she had released a small surveillance drone to monitor Winston's vital signs.
Now the readings were going insane. Heart rate, blood pressure, neurological activity. Everything had spiked simultaneously. Diana's expression remained calm.
"Another test subject was here." Her fingers moved rapidly across the tablet. "Did any of you see exactly what happened?"
One of her associates hesitated. "We lost the drone feed, ma'am."
Diana looked down at the screen. The final readings continued flashing before abruptly cutting out.
"The drone overheated," one of the men reported. "It exploded."
A tremendous gust swept across the stadium. Outside, parked cars began shaking violently. One after another, their alarms erupted into synchronized screams.
"Should we intervene, ma'am?"
Diana stared at Winston's unconscious body below.
"No." She closed the tablet. "Bring me everything on the other boy. His history, his recent activities, his training, his medical records—everything he's done over the past few days."
She stood. "For now, we're heading back to headquarters." Her expression hardened. "I need to reboot the save data."
"Yes, ma'am."
On another balcony several floors above, Dumi and Boris watched the aftermath. Boris lowered his binoculars slowly.
"You were right. The purchase really did lead to this." He glanced toward Dumi. "Who would've thought Winston would end up facing someone else using the pill?"
Dumi remained silent for a moment. "When Haruto first told me about the pill, I was worried Winston might be using it." He folded his arms. "But I tested his water bottle. The results came back negative."
Boris frowned. "Then how—"
"C'mon." Dumi turned away from the railing. "Let's check the other trial runners."
Boris hesitated. "You're not going down there to check on Winston?"
Dumi glanced back toward the unconscious youth. "Later." A faint smile appeared on his face. "Besides, that kid isn't going to lose this easily."
He started walking toward the elevator. "We'll visit him when he wakes up."