Chapter 53: Chapter 53: No Mercy After the Bell
The whistle blew.
Game over.
Lincoln High’s first match of the season ended in victory.
2–0.
The boys spilled toward the bench, lungs still heaving, sweat cooling into a salty chill under the winter night air.
Julian dropped down and eased into his cooldown routine—slow, deliberate, the kind of stretches that looked half like pilates, half like a monk’s meditative flow.
A smooth bend of the spine.
A long, controlled twist.
Breath locked in rhythm.
Riku, still catching his own breath, stared.
"You can move your body like that?"
Julian, folded in a position that looked anything but comfortable, let out a low groan as his muscles pulled tight.
"Yeah... if you endure it. And keep trying." His voice came between controlled exhales.
He shifted deeper into the stretch, feeling the burn trace down his hamstrings. Around him, boots scuffed the turf, jackets zipped up, water bottles hissed open.
Then—
Leo stepped forward, shaking the last drops of sweat from his hair, and planted himself in front of the team.
"Thank you, guys, for the way you played today," Leo began, his voice cutting through the low hum of the crowd packing up.
He scanned each face—Riku, Tariq, Felix, Aaron, Cael, Julian.
Fire burned in his eyes.
"But this isn’t the end. This was just the opening act. We’ve got eleven more matches ahead. So—" He clenched a fist. "Let’s win all of them."
Aaron grinned. "Yeah, we’ll win this, Captain."
Felix nodded, steady and sure. "You can count on us."
Cael pumped both fists like a WWE champion and bellowed, "We will winnnnnn!"
That cracked the last of the tension.
Laughter rolled through the squad—loud, raw, and full of the relief that only comes after ninety minutes of war.
Coach Owen stepped forward, arms folded, the shadow of a smile on his face.
"That was a good game. Not even close. You kept your pace, even under pressure." His tone sharpened. "But don’t get comfortable. That was the third seed. We still have to face second and first—and I expect the same fight, if not more."
He let his gaze sweep over the team, voice dropping to a warning growl.
"I don’t want us beating the stronger opponents only to let weaker ones steal points from us. Understand?"
"Yes, Coach!" the team barked back in unison.
"Good. Rest up. We head back."
...
Lincoln High began packing up. Boots unlaced. Shin guards tossed into bags.
Sweat-soaked jerseys swapped for clean, loose gear.
Most pulled on their thick team jackets—the winter night bit at exposed skin, the cold air turning every breath into pale mist.
The squad made their way to the parking lot. Their bus rumbled into view, warm light spilling from the open door.
Julian stared at it for a moment, still faintly in awe.
No mana.
No spirit arrays.
Just an entirely different kind of power.
The energy they used here came from oil—primitive by some standards, but powerful enough to move giants like this bus. And yet... it poisoned the world.
Still, humanity in this realm was already searching for alternatives, adapting, pushing forward with their own solutions.
A strange respect stirred in him.
This world didn’t revolve around martial might. Here, strength didn’t make you a dictator—it made you a competitor.
One by one, his teammates climbed aboard. As Julian stepped closer, a familiar voice cut through the winter air.
Silas stood there, black skin gleaming under the pale streetlight, golden-trimmed jacket zipped to his chin. His eyes locked on Julian’s.
"That was a good game," Silas said evenly. "You’re the real deal. A rising star. The last striker Lincoln High had was phenomenal... but next time, I’ll be the one winning."
Julian met his gaze without flinching.
"Talk all you want. Win first."
They clasped hands—firm, unyielding.
A silent promise.
Then Julian turned, climbed the steps, and vanished into the warmth of the bus.
...
The engine rumbled to life.
No chatter now—just the low hum of wheels on asphalt.
Everyone was tired, bodies sinking into the seats.
One by one, they drifted into sleep.
Julian felt it too—his eyelids heavy—
—until the voice came.
[ Congratulations on winning your first official football match, Host. ]
[ Activating EXP System. ]
A sudden jolt ran through him, like invisible threads weaving into his muscles and bones.
[ MATCH PERFORMANCE RATING ]
Goals Scored : 2 (+3.0)
Assists : 0 (+0.0)
Key Passes : 2 (+0.6)
Successful Dribbles : 5 (+1.0)
Shots on Target : 3 (+0.6)
Successful Tackles : 0 (+0.0)
Interceptions/Clearances : 2 (+0.2)
Possession Losses : 2 (−0.4)
Missed Big Chances : 0 (+0.0)
Errors Leading to Goal : 0 (+0.0)
Fouls Committed : 0 (+0.0)
Win Bonus : +0.3
[ Host Match Rating: 10.3 ]
[ Current Competition: USA High School League → Modifier: x1]
[ Final EXP Gained: 10.3 ]
[ EXP can be used to upgrade skills, attributes, or purchase items. ]
The glowing text faded into his vision like molten gold.
Julian’s lips curved slightly.
"ASHI," he thought, voice sharp in the silence,
"show me my attributes."
...
User: Julian Ashford
Age: 17
State: Average Teen (Youth League)
Title: None
Exp Point : 10.3
...
CORE ATTRIBUTES
► Strength : 18
► Agility : 19
► Stamina : 23
► Technique : 21
► Perception : 23
► Instinct : 23
► Charisma : 10
Total Stat : 137 (151)
...
Item
None:
...
Skill
➤ [Battlefield Mind Lv.1] [0/100]
Type: Passive
Rank: Mystic
You react like a warrior. Movement predictions, pressure reading, and timing enhanced.
➤ [ Martial Memory Lv.1 ] [0/100]
Type: Passive + Active
Rank: Mystic
Martial techniques will adapt into this world as your body grows.
Passive Effect: +2 to all attributes
Active Effect: For 5 seconds, use any martial technique from your past life without consuming mana.
➤ [Rule The Pitch Lv.1] [0/100]
Type: Passive + Active
Rank: Mystic
— A Soul Cultivation born on the field
Passive Effect: Removes all disease from Julian’s body.
Active Effect Rotate soul energy to temporarily boost to All attribute by +1 to +20.
Overuse may damage the body.
➤ [Scan Lv.1] [0/25]
Type: Active
Rank: Rare
You can scan a person to view their attribute totals. Further levels reveal greater detail.
...
Julian’s gaze moved to the skill tab.
Each one had its own experience bar—its own path to growth.
Different skills demanded different amounts to advance.
It reminded him of his old world.
Back then, martial skills were sealed in scrolls.
The more devastating the technique, the harder it was to master—
—and the more time it demanded to engrave into the body and soul.
[ Normal Skill: 10 EXP ]
[ Rare Skill: 25 EXP ]
[ Legend Skill: 50 EXP ]
[ Mythic Skill: 100 EXP — for the first level, Host. ]
ASHI’s voice rang in his head, crisp and mechanical.
Julian leaned back against the seat.
So there were more layers. More rules.
And if ASHI had revealed this much...
...what else was it hiding from him?
His fingers twitched, tempted to spend the points now.
But he forced himself to wait.
Patience was a weapon too.
For now, he would keep them.