MONDAY - 6 DAYS UNTIL
The video screen flickered with another highlight reel.
Daichi Suzuki. Again.
Coach Tanaka didn't say anything. He just let the footage play. Ball gliding to the striker's feet. Perfect first touch. Explosive acceleration. Defender lunging, too slow. Clinical finish into the far corner. Celebration. Repeat.
Seven minutes of footage. Seven different goals. Seven different ways to destroy a defense.
The Tokyo FC U18 team watched in dead silence.
Ryo finally spoke, his captain's voice hollow, "He's... incredible."
Takeshi's jaw clenched. His fists were pressed so hard into his thighs that his nails cut crescents into his palm. He remembered this kid. Age 8. They'd been equals then. Playing in youth tournaments. Competing for dominance in their prefecture.
Now? Now Daichi was elite. Clinical. Untouchable.
And Takeshi had been nowhere for three years.
Coach Tanaka turned the screen off.
"We're 13th. They're 1st," he said flatly. "They've scored 42 goals this season. Conceded 8. We've scored 14. Conceded 31. On paper, we lose 5-0."
Nobody moved.
"So we tear up the paper." His voice hardened. "Play the match nobody expects."
TUESDAY-WEDNESDAY
The facility transformed.
Takeshi and Sato's early morning sessions were sacred now. 5:30 AM. But by Wednesday, they weren't alone anymore. Ryo showed up. Then Kenji. Yuta started appearing with dark circles under his eyes but determination burning behind them.
If we're going down, we go down fighting.
That's what Ryo had said, and somehow, it became the team's motto.
During a water break on Wednesday, Sato found Takeshi alone against the wall.
"You ready to face him?"
Daichi.
"I have to be."
Sato was quiet for a moment. "He's been improving for seven years straight. You quit for three. There's no way you're his level."
Takeshi knew it was true. But something in him refused to accept it.
"But I'm not the same as I was two weeks ago," he said quietly.
Sato's fist bumped his shoulder. "Demon's waking up, right?"
"Yeah. He's waking up."
WEDNESDAY NIGHT - TACTICAL BRIEFING
Coach Tanaka stood before the team with a remote in hand. Freeze frames of Yokohama FC's formation filled the screen.
"Daichi Suzuki. Right-footed. Cuts inside from the left wing or plays central striker. Elite speed. Clinical finishing. Perfect positioning." Coach paused. "Basically, if he gets the ball in the box, it's a goal."
He turned to Yuta. "You're on him. All match."
Yuta's face went pale. "Me?"
"Don't let him breathe."
THURSDAY
Takeshi checked his phone during water break.
Still nothing from Elsa.
Usually, she called every two or three days. But it had been five days now since their last conversation. No messages. Nothing.
The Ajax group chat was alive—Marcus posting about his Dortmund training, Oliver sharing Arsenal stories, Isabella celebrating her team's win. But Elsa's profile stayed silent. No comments. No reactions. Nothing.
Sato noticed him staring at the screen.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just... Elsa hasn't called."
"She's probably busy. Norway training."
"Yeah. Probably."
But something felt wrong. A silence that wasn't quite right. Like missing a friend at the worst possible time.
FRIDAY - FINAL PREPARATION
Light training. Sharp edges. Staying loose but ready.
That night, Ryo called a team meeting.
The captain stood before them, and for once, he didn't look like he was trying to lift them up with false hope. He looked honest.
"Tomorrow, nobody expects us to win. Hell, nobody expects us to compete. We're the worst team they'll face all season."
He paused.
"So let's make it the hardest match they'll ever forget."
The room erupted. Not with noise. With something deeper. Belief. Maybe their first real belief all season.
SATURDAY MORNING - MATCH DAY
Takeshi didn't sleep.
6 AM, staring at his phone. His thumb hovered over Elsa's contact. He typed a message: "Big match today. Wish me luck?"
Then deleted it.
Something's wrong. Something's changed.
He didn't understand it. Didn't have time to understand it. The system notification blazed across his vision:
[CRITICAL MATCH APPROACHING]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Tokyo FC (13th) vs Yokohama FC (1st)
The Demons vs The Gods
Last Place vs First Place
Your Status:
Rank: Semi-Pro A+ (CLOSE TO PROFESSIONAL E)
Fitness: B- (Improved!)
Condition: Peak
TIME RELAY: 36% (Ready)
Win Probability: 3%
Competitive Match Probability: 15%
Predicted Score: 1-4 (Optimistic)
Quest: Score 2+ Goals
Quest: Provide 2+ Assists
Quest: Don't Let Daichi Score More Than You
Reward: Rank Up to Professional E
Penalty: Rank Down to Semi-Pro B
This is your test.
This is your stage.
Show them the demon isn't dead.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
He got up and prepared alone.
PRE-MATCH - YOKOHAMA'S STADIUM
The facility was bigger than Tokyo FC's training ground. Proper stands. 500+ spectators already filling seats. Scouts everywhere. This was a real stage.
Both teams warmed up simultaneously.
Yokohama looked professional. Synchronized movements. Perfect technique on every pass. Their warm-up wasn't casual—it was a masterclass. Tokyo FC looked scrappy in comparison. Raw. Hungry but unpolished.
The gap was visible from the parking lot.
Takeshi was stretching near midfield when he sensed someone approaching.
Looking up.
Daichi Suzuki stood there. Taller than Takeshi remembered. 5'11" maybe. Athletic build. Confidence radiating like heat.
Everything Takeshi used to be.
"Yamamoto Takeshi, right?"
The voice was cool. Assessing. Not hostile. Just... observant.
"Daichi."
"I heard you came back. From quitting." Direct. No warmth. "Why? Miss losing?"
Takeshi's jaw tightened. "Something like that."
Daichi looked him up and down like he was reading a book. "You were at Ajax. With those European kids. Everyone said you'd be the next national team star." He paused. "Then you just... disappeared. Now you're here. Last place. Funny how things work out."
"Let's just play," Takeshi said, turning to walk away.
"Hey, Yamamoto."
He stopped.
"I'm going to score four today. Just so you know. Welcome back to football."
Daichi walked away like he'd already won.
Takeshi's fists clenched.
Sato appeared beside him. "Ignore him."
"I know. But..." Takeshi trailed off.
"But what?"
"He's probably right."
KICKOFF - 0 MINUTES
Coach Tanaka's final words echoed: "For 90 minutes, we're equals."
The whistle blew.
Yokohama touched the ball first and immediately began dictating. Their passing was crisp. Professional. Clinical. Tokyo FC chased shadows in the opening minutes. Possession statistics would tell the real story—80% for Yokohama in the first two minutes.
This would be a massacre.
3 MINUTES
Yokohama attacked. Ball to Daichi. Yuta marked tight, but Daichi's first touch was immaculate. He turned on Yuta's shoulder, creating space from nothing. Twenty-yard shot.
Kenji dove.
The save came. Barely. The crowd gasped.
Daichi smiled. "Next one."
5 MINUTES
Tokyo FC's first real possession. Sato won a ball in midfield, found Takeshi. Takeshi attempted a dribble. Yokohama's midfielder tackled cleanly.
Ball gone.
Takeshi's adult mind whispered: They're so much better. Every player is elite level. We're outclassed.
8 MINUTES
Beautiful team play from Yokohama. A passing triangle that dissected Tokyo FC's defense like surgery. Ball to Daichi at the edge of the box. Yuta was right there, but Daichi's movement was elite—one touch, creating space where none existed.
Shot. Low corner.
Kenji diving.
The ball hit the net.
0-1.
Daichi didn't celebrate much. Just jogged back. "Three more to go."
Tokyo FC's heads were dropping. Shoulders sagging. The weight of reality was crushing.
10 MINUTES
Tokyo FC kickoff. Desperate to answer quickly. Takeshi got the ball, tried to replicate what Daichi had done. But it wasn't clean. A Yokohama midfielder stole it easily. Counter-attack immediately dangerous. Tokyo FC barely cleared.
The pattern was emerging: Yokohama technical and composed. Tokyo FC rushed and desperate. Fitness holding but skill gap enormous. Every Yokohama attack felt like a goal. Every Tokyo FC attack felt rushed.
12 MINUTES
Takeshi's adult mind analyzed mid-play. Can't match them technically. Need to be smarter.
He dropped deeper, helping Sato in midfield. Creating numerical advantages. Slowing the game down. Thinking ahead three moves instead of one.
14 MINUTES
Takeshi intercepted a pass. Quick thinking. Through ball to Ryo.
Ryo running. One-on-one developing. Crowd holding breath.
Shot.
Yokohama's goalkeeper saved it. But better. Tokyo FC showing life.
15 MINUTES
Daichi to his teammates: "Not bad. Let's finish this early."
Yokohama shifted gears. Possession increasing. Pressure mounting. Tokyo FC defending desperately.
Scoreline: 0-1 Yokohama.
Takeshi's thoughts as he ran back to position: He's on another level. That goal... I couldn't make that. Not yet.
He caught Sato's eye.
Sato nodded.
But we're not dead yet.
The system notification appeared, visible only to Takeshi:
[15 MINUTES ELAPSED]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Current Score: 0-1
Your Stats:
Touches: 8
Pass Success: 75%
Key Passes: 1
Goals: 0
Assists: 0
Quest Progress: 0% Complete
75 Minutes Remaining
Warning: At this pace, you lose 0-4
Recommendation: TIME RELAY activation soon
Current Unlock: 36% (Enough for key moments)
The demon needs to wake up.
Now.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Yokohama was building another attack. Ball moving smoothly between elite midfielders. Tokyo FC scrambling. Daichi making a run, reading the space three steps ahead.
Here it comes again...
Takeshi chased, barely keeping up.
This was going to be a long match.
[END PART 1 - TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 31 PART 2]