Chapter 7: 1 V 1
A surge of energy exploded within Miya as his foot struck the ball, setting it into motion and resetting the timer. Fueled by this new burst of adrenaline, he sprinted toward the ball faster than he ever thought possible.
In under two seconds, Miya reached the ball, his foot slamming down to stabilize it. For the first time in his life, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief to have a soccer ball under his control—especially when his life depended on it.
'Stay sharp, Miya,' he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. 'If that situation happens again, I won't have any shoes left to throw!'
Miya quickly scanned the vicinity, his eyes darting around to spot any potential threats. Most of the other players were preoccupied with their own battles, too focused on defending or attacking to notice him. But there was one exception...
A cheerful guy was racing toward him, his ball gliding in front of him as he nudged it forward with practiced ease. "Hey, senior! How about a little fun?" the guy called out, his tone light, almost playful.
Miya tensed, bracing himself for an assault. He knew better than to underestimate his opponent, but a part of him hoped they could resolve things without resorting to violence.
"The room's population has already been thinned out," Miya said, trying to reason with the guy. "Do you really want to risk facing me head-on?"
The cheerful striker laughed, stopping just a few feet from Miya. "That's because I took down most of them! I'm not here to survive—I'm here to enjoy the game."
Miya grunted, recognizing the type. 'This guy's just here for fun… I need to be extra careful.'
Suddenly, the striker bolted toward Miya's ball, his foot shooting out to kick it. But Miya was no novice; he swiftly moved his foot to control the ball, pulling it out of the striker's reach just in time.
"Hahaha! You're sharp!" the striker chuckled, immediately launching another attack. This time, he went for a direct tackle, but Miya's quick dribbling kept the ball safe.
'He's relentless and doesn't seem to care about his own ball...' Miya thought, his anxiety spiking as the striker snatched the ball from under him with a deft move.
"I got you now!" Taru, the cheerful striker, shouted, his voice filled with excitement as he dashed toward his own ball with Miya's in tow.
Miya's heart pounded as he realized what had happened. 'He's stealing my ball! Damn, he's way above my level... But why am I feeling... excited? This rush, this thrill... Is it because of the life-or-death stakes? No... This is what I truly live for.'
Taru was already halfway to his own ball, which was dangerously close to exploding, when he heard a faint noise behind him. He turned just in time to see Miya sliding in for a tackle.
Miya's slide tackle was perfectly executed, sending the ball out of Taru's control and causing him to stagger back, almost falling.
"You think I'm some kind of average Joe?" Miya spat, quickly getting up and placing his foot on Taru's ball, resetting the timer as he claimed it for himself.
"That's more like it!" Taru grinned, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of competition as he charged forward for another tackle.
He was fast—so fast that he nearly reclaimed Miya's ball on his first attempt. Miya pulled the two balls closer to himself, his mind racing. 'He's unpredictable. I can't keep both balls safe from him at once. He's targeting mine… I need to protect it.'
With a swift movement, Miya lobbed his own ball into the air, sending it soaring dozens of meters high. 'Now I can focus on him.'
Miya shifted his stance, foot firmly planted on Taru's ball as Taru sprinted at him, leg outstretched for another swift attack.
Miya sidestepped, flicking the ball into the air just out of Taru's reach. Taru leaped, trying to intercept it mid-air, but Miya was already ahead of him. In a quick, decisive move, Miya headbutted the ball downward, letting it bounce off the ground and over Taru's head.
"Man, you're pretty good," Taru laughed, clearly enjoying the challenge. But there was a dark glint in his eyes. "Unlike me, senior, I know you can't endanger human life. That's not your style of football… That's why I'm better than you."
"Shut up!" Miya snapped, knowing Taru was right. To Miya, football was a matter of life and death for the spirit, not the body. That's why he intended to play keep-away, stalling Taru until the time ran out. But there were only a few seconds left...
Grab!
Miya's eyes widened in shock as he felt Taru's hand clamp down on his shoulder.
"Now watch me become a god," Taru said, his voice dripping with confidence as he vaulted over Miya's shoulder, flipping into a bicycle kick aimed straight at Miya's airborne ball.
Miya's heart skipped a beat. 'He's going to destroy my ball! I have no choice—I have to stop him!'
With everything he had, Miya wound back his left leg and delivered a powerful kick to Taru's ball, sending it flying into the air. But Taru didn't back down. His bicycle kick connected with Miya's ball, smashing it downward with incredible force. The balls collided mid-air, Miya's ball rocketing forward while Taru's rebounded back.
"What the hell…?"
Miya gasped as Taru's ball came flying back to him. Taru landed gracefully, catching it in his hands with a laugh. "You're pretty fun, senior! Now be a good boy and go fetch your ball."
Miya wanted to argue, but the ticking bombs forced him into action. He turned and sprinted toward his ball with everything he had.
'Shit! The floor's too smooth, and without my shoes, I'm slipping all over the place! It's all down to my speed now… but the ball is still rolling!'
Miya pushed himself to his limits, his legs burning as he tried not to tumble. 'I was outclassed by that guy… He's a demon on the field. How did he predict everything so perfectly? How did he evolve so quickly? Damn it, how did I get this bad at football? I feel useless… like a total noob… A noob about to die!'
The ball finally came to a halt against the far wall of the room, about twenty meters away. Miya's heart turned to ice as the countdown began.
"AHH-hkkk!" he grunted, sweat pouring down his face. His body was at its breaking point. He knew he wasn't going to make it in time.
...Three...
Miya's mind went blank as the third second ticked by. Desperately, he yanked off his shirt, rolled it into a ball, and hurled it at his soccer ball. But the shirt only flew a few feet before plopping uselessly to the ground.
...Two...
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Miya screamed, trying to tap into some hidden reserve of power. He imagined himself running as fast as a cheetah, faster than the Flash, anything to close the distance. But reality was harsh; his speed only faltered, slowing him down even more.
Huff! Huff!
...One...
'This is it… I'm going to die here…'
"Congratulations! You have all survived the first trial. All the bombs have been disabled."
Miya's eyes widened as the voice of the dog-masked figure echoed through the room. Relief washed over him, but so did exhaustion. His body felt like it was about to collapse when…
"Oh, where did I keep that bomb deactivation button?"
"Ehhh?"
BOOOOOM!
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**Author's Note:**
This might seem like a game, but it's real—a true life story I dreamt of yesterday. Support me by voting, because this is my Olympics.
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