The viewing hall had grown louder after Petrov's goal.
Candidates from different groups whispered among themselves as the scoreboard displayed:
Petrov 1 — Daniel 0
Many were surprised.
Some were confused.
But a few were smiling.
Far from the main crowd, near the back of the room, Fatima stood with her group of friends. The girls watched the match carefully on a floating screen.
One of them crossed her arms.
"Isn't this the guy you were talking about?"
Another giggled.
"The comeback genius?"
Fatima remained silent.
Her sharp eyes were fixed on Daniel.
Something about the match felt strange.
"He's thinking," she said calmly.
The girls looked at her.
Fatima tilted her head slightly.
"That goal didn't shake him at all."
Just then, the entrance doors of the viewing hall opened.
A group of candidates walked in confidently.
At the front was a tall young man with calm but commanding eyes.
Martins Adeyemi.
The current Group E leader.
Behind him followed several coaches who clearly respected him.
One of them spoke quietly.
"So that's the Daniel everyone's been talking about."
Another nodded.
"The one who overturned Harada."
Martins looked at the screen where Daniel stood calmly on the sidelines.
"…Let's see if he deserves the hype."
The group stopped near the viewing area.
Martins folded his arms and began watching.
Meanwhile on the field simulation…
Daniel finally moved.
He tapped the tactical board.
His formation shifted slightly.
The midfield pushed forward more aggressively.
The fullbacks advanced higher.
Petrov noticed immediately.
He's going all-in already?
Petrov smirked.
"Desperate."
The match resumed.
Daniel's team attacked quickly.
Just like before.
The winger cut inside.
The fullback overlapped.
Petrov's defense moved instantly.
Exactly as expected.
They intercepted the pass again.
But this time—
Petrov frowned.
"…Wait."
The winger didn't continue the run.
Instead, he stopped.
Petrov's defenders had already committed forward.
A second later—
Daniel's central midfielder launched a long diagonal pass across the field.
The ball flew into the space left behind.
A hidden runner burst through the gap.
Petrov's eyes widened.
"WHAT—"
The striker received the ball cleanly.
One touch.
Then a powerful shot.
GOAL
The scoreboard changed.
Petrov 1 — Daniel 1
The viewing hall erupted.
"OH!"
"Did you see that?!"
Fatima smiled slightly.
"…I knew it."
Beside her, one of the girls blinked.
"What just happened?"
Fatima explained calmly.
"He baited Petrov."
On the screen, Daniel smirked faintly.
Across the field, Petrov stared in disbelief.
Daniel tapped the tactical board again.
Another shift.
This time the attack came from the right side.
Petrov reacted quickly again.
But something felt wrong.
Every defensive move he made…
…created another opening somewhere else.
Pass.
Movement.
Overlap.
Third-man run.
Before Petrov realized it—
Daniel's winger slipped behind the defense.
Cross into the box.
Header.
GOAL
Petrov 1 — Daniel 2
The entire viewing room exploded with noise.
Martins Adeyemi watched silently.
But one of his followers spoke.
"…He's adapting mid-match."
Martins nodded slowly.
"He realized Petrov knew his system."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"So he created fake patterns."
On the field, Petrov clenched his fists.
"You…!"
Daniel simply smiled.
"You thought you were three moves ahead."
Petrov glared at him.
Daniel leaned forward slightly.
"But you were just playing the moves I wanted."
Petrov's face darkened.
From the shadows near the back of the viewing hall…
Farouk watched with anger burning in his eyes.
"…Damn it."
Meanwhile, Fatima crossed her arms thoughtfully.
Her gaze remained fixed on Daniel.
"That boy…"
She whispered softly.
"…is far more dangerous than I thought."