Chapter 167: Barou, The Ball Thief
"Hyoma Chigiri's shot was at an impossible angle. It looked more like a pinpoint cross than a direct strike..."
"It's a perfect line! Wait—Oliver Aiku says no! He's shut it down right at the goalmouth!"
The ball, which had been destined for the back of the net, was redirected by Aiku. He appeared out of nowhere, his powerful frame soaring through the air to head the ball out of danger. He landed with a thud and shot Chigiri a mocking look.
"Tch. Look at you, little red-headed thief. You're wandering into a restricted zone. You want me to cuff you?"
If anyone had been watching closely, they would have seen Aiku's pupils flickering with a tactical radar map. It was undeniable—Aiku had awakened Meta-Vision.
"Tch... annoying old man captain," Chigiri muttered. He was genuinely frustrated. He'd found the perfect angle, but Aiku had read it before the ball even left his foot. Was everyone on this team's dynamic vision this cracked?
The livestream chat was already losing its mind over Aiku's performance.
"Man, Aiku is a beast. My former U-20 captain is actually carrying the defense!"
"He's always been an elite defender. His old team was just holding him back."
"Facts. Especially that striker Sendo. That guy was all show and no go back in the day."
Inside the stadium, Sendo's eye twitched as he felt the collective judgment of the internet. 'Are you people serious? Have some respect!'
On the touchline, Chris Prince watched the replay on the monitor, looking thoroughly annoyed. He shot a resentful glance at Snuffy. How did Ubers end up with another player this good?
"He fits right in with your little assembly line, doesn't he?" Chris said. "It's a shame. If he were on my team, I'd maximize that physique until he was a apex athlete."
Snuffy rolled his eyes. "Physical specs are great for the brochure, Chris, but football is a game of intelligence. The brain is the only muscle that really matters."
Chris shook his head. To him, football was a biological war. Tactics and schemes were just noise compared to raw, physical dominance. Neither man budged; they had both reached the top of the world using completely different philosophies.
***
The match raged on.
"You're up, Lorenzo!"
Niko's vision was sharper than ever. He spotted the loose ball dropping toward the "Ace Eater" and called it out instantly.
"Clocking in..."
Lorenzo lived up to the hype, snatching the ball with ease. He shifted into his bizarre "zombie" dribble, swaying with a rhythm that defied logic. Nagi stepped up to intercept, but he couldn't find a way to time his lunge. Within seconds, Lorenzo had glided right past him.
"What is with that freakish movement...?" Nagi muttered. Even having seen the footage, facing Lorenzo in the flesh was a different kind of nightmare.
"Don't sweat it. I've got him."
Agi suddenly appeared in Lorenzo's path, cutting off the lane.
"Oh, it's you. I remember you from the academy circuit," Lorenzo said, flashing his gold teeth. He recognized Agi as one of the few Manshine prospects with a real head on his shoulders. He was the rare "thinker" among the muscle-bound meatheads—the central processor for their team.
"Your dribbling is still as ugly as ever. You haven't improved your style at all," Agi said, hitting Lorenzo where it hurt.
"If it works, it works, OK?" Lorenzo snapped, his ego flared. He engaged Agi in a high-speed one-on-one. Lorenzo's handles had easily dismantled Nagi, but Agi was a veteran of the system. He held his ground, refusing to bite on the feints.
"If I kill your momentum, Ubers is just a Ferrari without an engine," Agi noted coolly.
"Tagging out... OK?"
Lorenzo realized that wasting time here was a net loss for the team. He executed a sharp back-pass. To the surprise of the Manshine defense, the ball didn't go to another midfielder. It went deep to Niko, who had pushed up into the center circle.
"Wait, what is this?" Agi's eyes widened. 'Why is the kid with the bangs that far up?'
"You really think a machine as fine-tuned as Ubers doesn't have a backup engine?" Lorenzo smirked.
Agi realized he'd been baited. Lorenzo's "annoyed" offensive push was just a screen to let Niko find his position.
"Take it, King."
Niko's Meta-Vision locked onto Kira's location. He unleashed a laser-accurate long ball that spanned half the pitch.
Kira was already moving. His own Meta-Vision had synced with Niko's the moment the pass was launched. This was the drill they had practiced a thousand times—using Niko's range to shatter the defensive line in a single heartbeat.
Seconds later, the ball was dead at Kira's feet.
"..."
A shadow loomed over him. Iemon Okuhito was stuck to him like a shadow, his expression cold and detached.
'He's keeping up with me?' Kira thought, genuinely surprised. The change in the man was staggering.
[Okuhito Iemon. Overall: 90 (S-Rank)]
[Speed: 90 (S)]
[Defense: 86 (A)]
[Passing: 90 (S)]
[Dribbling: 90 (S)]
[Shooting: 90 (S)]
[Offense: 90 (S)]
Kira scanned the stats and nearly stumbled. 'Are you kidding me? He's basically a mid-tier version of me. He's more well-rounded than Reo now.'
"You've been busy since I last saw you," Kira said, sizing up his former teammate.
"I just crawled back from the abyss. That's all," Iemon replied, his voice devoid of emotion.
"Then let's see what you learned in the dark!"
Kira ignited, cutting inside with a violent burst of speed. Iemon's eyes widened—he hadn't expected Kira to be that explosive. But his body responded instinctively, his refined specs allowing him to stay within a hair's breadth of the play.
'His reaction time is through the roof,' Kira thought. But being fast wasn't enough to stop him. Kira shifted into another gear, chaining together a series of aggressive feints and internal cuts. Iemon held on for a few seconds, but eventually, the sheer velocity of Kira's movements created a gap.
Still too slow. Kira was simply in a different league. The only person on the pitch who could match this raw speed was Chigiri.
"Nice work, Iemon. I'll take it from here."
Speak of the devil. Chigiri had tracked back, arriving just as Kira broke free.
"On this pitch, I'm the only one allowed to be fast!" Chigiri said, his confidence radiating off him.
Kira respected the speed, but speed alone didn't make a defender. Chigiri was leaning too hard into the chase, his center of gravity too high. He was practically begging to be toyed with.
Kira executed a stutter-step, faked a pass to the wing, and then spun in the opposite direction, knocking the ball through the opening. A perfect self-nutmeg. Chigiri was left spinning in place.
Kira was one-on-one with the keeper. He looked up, ready to put the game away.
Suddenly, a foot flashed in his periphery and sniped the ball away.
"Barou???"
Kira was speechless. He'd known Barou was trailing him, but he'd assumed the "King" was there for support. Instead, Barou had decided to commit an act of high-speed mutiny.
"There is only one King on this pitch!" Barou roared, already charging toward the net with the stolen ball.
"Fine, fine. You're the King. Knock yourself out," Kira muttered, coming to a halt. He wasn't even mad. If the help wanted to do the heavy lifting, he was more than happy to take a breather.
Lorenzo gave Kira a mental nod of approval. 'That's the spirit. Let the hungry guy do the work while we collect the check.'
Barou didn't disappoint. He faced the Manshine keeper and unleashed a literal cannon blast of a strike, the ball nearly tearing a hole through the netting.
Boom!
Goal. 1-0.
On the sidelines, Snuffy's eye was twitching. The lack of discipline was a direct insult to his system.
Next to him, Chris Prince was howling with laughter. "So this is your 'perfectly disciplined' Ubers? I've seen more order in a mosh pit! Your own players are mugging each other for the ball!"
The veins on Snuffy's forehead looked like they were about to pop.
***
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