This was the penalty. That much was clear. Penalty in his dream? The system was able to take control of even his dreams? It was controlling more and more of Nevan which was frustrating to him.
"Boy. Move." A deep voice sounded behind Nevan. He flinched before making way to the man. He was muscular, tattooed and his face was hidden behind a hoodie. He could only see the tattoos of his hands but they seemed unfinished, hidden beneath the cloth.
He simply stared the man's muscular back. He was like a lost puppy who didn't know where he was, neither where to go. He was hesitating again and when he noticed it, he felt a strange pang of irritation. He hastily followed the man.
"Uhm, excuse me?" He called out, afraid, his voice might have been swallowed by the loud cheers. After he had listened to the man commenting on the play, he noticed, they were speaking English. This was weird for him but he decided to speak that language too.
The man turned to Nevan. "What?" His voice was harsh and gruff, as if he was unwilling to speak to Nevan.
"I am new here." He stated. Then a small pause. "I would like to know where I can register myself for a game."
All Nevan could see were the thin lips of the nameless man. And yet, he felt the burning gaze of this person on himself. He simply gestured for Nevan to follow him. He gratefully complied before the man could change his mind.
The way lead by the man took him across the stadium. Who would have thought, there was a whole stadium here with a soccer ground? It was hard to wrap your head around it. He was awestruck, his eyes widened as he saw how spacious this establishment was.
"Close your mouth. Or a fly will get in." He heard those words and immediately became conscious about this actions.
He looked back at the man. There were so many questions he had. Who was he? And who were all these players? They couldn't be hosts of Allstars System as well, right? He hesitated before he spoke. "May I ask, what this is all about? I have no idea, if I am being honest."
The man turned to look at him. Even though, Nevan couldn't see his expression, he could tell the masked man was judging him for his lack od knowledge. "You serious?" It seemed more like a rhetoric question since he didn't wait for Nevan to reply. "The Don loves soccer so he lets people who want to compete play here for his own entertainment. Those who want to see bet on a players."
It was illegal? They exited the whole stadium, getting into a quieter corner of the underground establishment. "Bet? On what? Which team will win?"
The man certainly was getting annoyed by all these questions but he wasn't going to show it actively. He answered the question. "Part of it involves around that, yes. The people can bet on who will score the goal, too."
Another question lingered at his tongue. He was about to ask it but got interrupted. "You will get the money of those who bet on you. And if they bet against you. If you score a goal or your team wins, you get a part of the win. I am not answering any more questions."
Nevan was almost offended. How dare someone shut him up like this? He was not doing any crime by askinh questions, was he? He decided to stay quiet though. They arrived at something that looked very much like the real entrance. He had probably entered from a hidden exit.
"Jerome. I got someone who would like to register for the next game." The man spoke as he looked at another man.
Nevan simply stared at the man. It had been a while since he had seen anyone with other features than the typical japanese ones. Jerome had honey blonde hair with vibrant ocean blue eyes. He had freckles which spread on his nose and cheeks like stars in the sky.
"Never thought, you would act as a guide for rookies, Faisal." So, the one who had lead him hear was Faisal. Maybe, of arabian heritage? Jerome stood up and shook Nevan's hand. "I am Jerome. You are new? I have never seen you before."
His vibrant eyes were captivating. He had to look away to collect his thoughts. What was he supposed to answer? He was not even sure about whether it was a dream or reality. If so, how had he been teleported here? He was unsure. Just how much could the system intervene in this universe?
"Somehow, I managed to stumble here. Don't know, how." He spoke. Why was he sounding so unsure of what he was saying? He shouldn't. It was too late, anyways. "I saw, what was going on, so I wanted to take part in this."
"You play soccer?" He was writing something down on a sheet of paper, only glancing up as he spoke out these words casually. It seemed like a routine to him. "Choose a pseudonym. Don't use your real name, if you don't want to be caught by the police."
Jerome shoved the page in his direction, along with a pen. He started filling it out. Pseudonym, the position he wanted to play in and how much earnings he wanted. "Earnings? How am I supposed to know?"
"I will leave, then. Gonna prepare myself." Faisal simply held up his hand before leaving them both alone.
Jerome's attention turned from the masked guy to Nevan once more. "I would recommend $1000 for the beginning. It is not important as of now. This is your first match, after all. Just fill out the other two options."
He wrote down '$1000' and moved to the others. The position was 'striker'. And a pseudonym? He gave it a thought. What did he want to name himself here? The pen lingered above the blank spot of paper. He scribbled something on the page before giving it back to Jerome. "I am done."
"Oh? Striker? Is it fine if you get a midfielder role too? Many here want to be the strikers." Jerome asked.
Nevan nodded. "Yes. That is fine too. Just not any defense position." He confirmed.
"Will keep it in mind." He looked at the page and smirked as he saw, what the boy in front of him had chosen to be his pseudonym. "You want a hoodie like Faisal? To keep your identity hidden?"
This was all illegal. He should take every meassurement to keep his identity a well-hidden secret. He took the black hoodie that was placed on the desk by Jerome. He wore it. It was clean and even had a distinct fragrance of some perfume.
"Good luck, then. You can go do a warm-up if you need in one of the training rooms." Jerome pointed across from himself. Nevan turned to look. A door that probably seperated the players for the next game from the bettors.
He had made his way to the room. It was enormous. Once again, he was amazed by how spacious this place was. The place was filled with a few people. Those, he would be in a team with or play against. He simply got to his warm-up routine without giving much mind to them.
He noticed Faisal who was there too. He had turned his back to Nevan. From his hasty departure earlier, he could tell Faisal didn't want to talk to Nevan. He would just grant this wish and not pester the man any further.
Nevan had covered his face with that hoodie now. He concentrated on his routine. There was a bell that rang. "Attention to all the players. You may go through the door and build two teams."
It seemed like they would be making teams on their own. Nevan looked around and that was when he decided to approach a guy who seemed new as well.
"Hey. You new here?" Nevan greeted the man. It was a bit unsettling to not see the faces of these people but he was doing the same thing, wasn't he?
His words lingered in the air. Nevan waited for a reply. It eventually came. "...you too." He would have said something confident but nothing came at this reply. He had opened his mouth. Now, he closed it. The man continued. "Let's just tag along for now."
Nevan nodded. This went smoother than he had expected. They made their way through the door and gathered with the team which had a place left for them. He noticed something.
The experienced players had gathered as a team and the ones who were unsure were on the other team. It was easy to spot them. The intermediate ones had an emblem on their hoodies, like Faisal. While those who were new like Nevan had a plain, black hoodie on.
"This is today's last match, ladies and gentlemen! A round where experienced players clash on new ones. We will start with a small introduction which will help you place your bets as well as tell you, which player is playing on which position."
The crowd cheered. This was almost like playing on a tournament. And they would be given a position, they would play on? Hopefully, Jerome would consider what he had said earlier.
"Let's start in the right order of the alphabet." A laugh followed these words. "A new player, who registered just a few minutes before the match began! He calls himself the Ace of the fields! Now, let us see if he actually makes it and can be considered an Ace of this field! He will be playing on midfield tonight!"