Chương 231: The Trio (231)
The whistle's shrill cry echoed across the stadium, slicing through the pre-game energy like a knife. Players, their faces etched with anticipation and determination, began to emerge from the locker room tunnel, streaming onto the field like a tide reclaiming the shore. All eyes, however, were drawn to one figure already standing there, a solitary silhouette bathed in the spotlight.
Nakada, the prodigy, stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the ball nestled at his feet. It wasn't just the ball; it was a symbol, a gateway to the second half, a chance to rewrite the narrative etched in the first. But the weight of expectation wasn't solely his to bear.
Six figures materialized around him, each a storm brewing in their own right.
Chigiri, the silent speedster, his body coiled like a spring, his eyes burning with the promise of untamed velocity. Kunigami, the unwavering force, his muscles taut with the resolve to overcome, his gaze a smoldering ember of defiance. Nagi, the predator reborn, his aura a chilling storm cloud, his lips stretched into a predatory grin that promised no mercy.
Bachira, the chaotic whirlwind, his eyes swirling with a kaleidoscope of emotions, his body pulsating with the rhythm of unpredictable genius. Nishioka, the silent strategist, his expression calm but his mind a chessboard of calculated moves.
And finally, Chris Prince, the enigmatic king, his regal demeanor masking a hunger for victory.
Six pairs of eyes, each reflecting a different fire, converged on Nakada. It wasn't just a stare; it was a challenge, a declaration of intent.
As the whistle pierced the air, Bachira, a whirlwind of chaotic energy, sent the ball dancing towards Nakada. The prodigy, unfazed, flicked it with barely a touch to Nishioka, the silent strategist.
But Bachira wasn't done. He exploded forward, a blur of blue leaving defenders gasping in his wake.
Nishioka, ever calculated, unleashed a long pass that arced across the field like a comet. Bachira, defying gravity, met it with a deft touch, trapping the ball as if it were an extension of himself.
Two defenders lunged, but his dribbling was a mesmerizing dance, leaving them stumbling in his dust.
With a final burst of speed, Bachira reached the final third, drawing the entire opposing defense like moths to a flame. But his eyes weren't solely focused on the goal. In a split second, he spotted Nakada making a diagonal run, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Nakada, anticipating Bachira's intent, peeled off his defender, creating a narrow opening between Kunigami's legs. With a flick of his wrist, Nakada unleashed a pass, not through the air, but a grounder aimed directly at Nishioka's feet, threading a needle through the unsuspecting Kunigami.
The stadium gasped. Some saw disrespect, a playful jab at Kunigami's failed attempt to block Nagi earlier. Others saw genius, a calculated humiliation designed to rattle the opponent. But for Kunigami, it was an inferno. His face flushed scarlet, the sting of the nutmeg adding fuel to the fire already burning within him.
Nishioka, ever calm amidst the storm, received the pass without breaking stride. With a single touch, he launched a diagonal rocket of his own, finding Bachira streaking into the box.
Nishioka's eyes scanned the field like a laser, dissecting the defense, calculating angles, and searching for the perfect opening.
Anticipation crackled around him, the crowd holding its breath, his teammates poised for the final strike. This was it, the culmination of the intricate play, the moment where strategy met execution.
He raised his foot, ready to unleash the shot, a thunderbolt aimed at the top right corner. But just as his boot connected with the ball, he saw it. A flicker of movement, a ghost in the crowd's roar. Kunigami. The defender, fueled by the sting of Nakada's nutmeg, had anticipated Nishioka's move, positioning himself to block the shot.
With a split-second decision, Nishioka contorted his body, twisting the shot mid-air. Instead of a bullet towards the goal, the ball curved sharply, taking an unexpected trajectory away from Kunigami and towards... nothingness. An empty gap in the midfield, devoid of any teammate.
A collective gasp swept through the stadium. Was it a miscalculation? Had Nishioka, the strategist, made a blunder? But in that moment of stunned silence, a figure materialized within the gap. Nakada, a predator lurking in the shadows, had anticipated both Nishioka's initial shot and its last-minute deviation.
With a predatory glint in his eyes, he met the errant ball with a venomous volley. It wasn't the shot Nishioka intended, but it was the one destined for glory. The ball screamed towards the top left corner, a blur of power and precision that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot.
The net rippled, and the stadium erupted in a delayed roar, the confusion giving way to stunned appreciation.
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