Petrov stared at Mendes.
For a moment, the room fell completely silent.
Then his expression twisted with fury.
"You used me?"
His voice trembled with rage.
"You sabotaged the system… gave me Daniel's data… and expected me to lose?!"
Farouk leaned calmly against the wall, watching the confrontation with mild amusement.
Mendes, however, looked completely unfazed.
He walked slowly toward the large screen mounted on the wall and activated it.
The replay of the match appeared.
Daniel stood on the sideline on the screen, calmly observing the field while the match unfolded.
"You had his tactical patterns," Mendes said.
"You had his formation preferences."
"You even had his predicted substitutions."
Petrov clenched his fists.
"And he still beat me."
Mendes nodded.
"Exactly."
He paused the replay at a critical moment.
Daniel's formation had shifted mid-match.
A change that had never appeared in the tactical data.
Mendes pointed to the screen.
"This is where you lost."
Petrov frowned.
"That's just a formation shift."
Farouk chuckled.
"No."
"That's adaptation."
Mendes turned toward Petrov.
"The information you received came from the tactical database."
"But Daniel changed his structure during the match."
Petrov's eyes widened slightly.
"So the data was wrong?"
Mendes shook his head.
"The data was correct."
"Daniel simply evolved beyond it."
Petrov gritted his teeth.
"So what was the point of this?"
Mendes studied the frozen image of Daniel on the screen.
"To see what kind of coach he is."
Petrov scoffed angrily.
"And?"
Mendes' eyes narrowed slightly.
"He's dangerous."
Silence filled the room.
Farouk crossed his arms.
"A coach who adapts in real time…"
"…is harder to predict."
Petrov turned toward the door, anger burning in his chest.
"You think this is over?"
Mendes didn't answer.
Petrov slammed the door behind him and stormed out.
The sound echoed through the chamber.
Farouk exhaled slowly.
"You humiliated him."
Mendes shrugged slightly.
"He needed the lesson."
Farouk looked back at the screen.
Daniel's image remained frozen on the display.
"So what now?"
Mendes' faint smile returned.
"Now we observe."
His eyes glinted with interest.
"Because if Daniel continues evolving like this…"
"…the tournament will become far more entertaining."
Several floors above them…
Inside the OOTP central monitoring room…
A row of massive monitors filled the walls.
Streams of tactical data scrolled across the screens.
One technician suddenly leaned forward.
"Wait."
His fingers began typing rapidly.
Another analyst looked over.
"What is it?"
The technician zoomed in on a section of the system logs.
Lines of code flashed across the monitor.
"There's a discrepancy."
A senior official turned around.
"What kind of discrepancy?"
The technician swallowed.
"Someone accessed the candidate tactical database."
The room fell silent.
"That shouldn't be possible," another analyst said.
"The database is isolated from the simulation network."
The technician shook his head slowly.
"Not completely."
He highlighted several time stamps on the screen.
"These access points happened during the last three matches."
The senior official's expression darkened.
"Which candidates were affected?"
The technician hesitated.
Then he answered.
"Daniel."
Another name appeared beside it.
"Petrov."
More lines of data appeared.
The official narrowed his eyes.
"So someone inside the facility is manipulating tactical data."
The technician nodded slowly.
"Yes, sir."
The room grew tense.
The official folded his arms.
"Lock down the database."
"Run a full investigation."
His voice hardened.
"And find out who is responsible."
The screens continued scrolling silently.
But buried within the system logs…
A hidden access key remained active.
Still watching.
Still waiting.