"Rusty—get over here!" Coach Carter's stern voice boomed across the training field.
Though Rusty was the one being called, every player on the field shivered in fear. "Coming... Coach..." Rusty responded quickly, nervously making his way over.
Before Coach Carter could say anything, Rusty blurted out, "Coach, whatever this kid just told you, I can explain! I did want to teach him a lesson earlier, but I didn't lay a hand on him because I'm a rational person! I know how important I am to the team as the starting center-back, and I didn't want to jeopardize that, no matter how angry I was. So I didn't fight."
Gunnard stood quietly, watching Rusty with a faint smile.
Coach Carter frowned and barked, "Who the hell asked you about that? Wait, what? You almost started a fight?"
Rusty froze, surprised, and looked at Gunnard. "You didn't rat me out?"
Gunnard shrugged casually. "I don't tattle. Whatever's between us, we settle ourselves."
For a moment, a strange expression crossed Rusty's face, but it quickly returned to his usual arrogance. "Hmph, don't think that just because you didn't tattle, I'll think you're any less of a loser."
Seriously? Is Rusty actually a bit tsundere? Gunnard nearly burst out laughing.
Coach Carter, irritated, shouted, "Alright, alright! I don't have time for your soap opera! Rusty, listen up! This kid wants to join our team—"
"What?!" Rusty's eyes bulged, and he roared, "I don't agree!"
Coach Carter kicked Rusty's rear. "You think this is some kind of wedding ceremony where you can object? Whether he joins or not is up to me!"
Rusty clutched his backside, "I mean, Coach, you shouldn't agree!"
Coach Carter responded coldly, "That's my decision to make! Now, this kid here has specifically requested to go one-on-one with you, our starting center-back, in a defensive challenge!"
"Hahaha!" Rusty burst out laughing, overjoyed. " kid! You're digging your own grave! Do you even know what my nickname is?"
Gunnard blinked, confused. "Isn't Rusty your nickname?"
Rusty smirked proudly. "A strong man like me can't have just one nickname! Rusty is what others call me, but my real nickname, the one that truly belongs to me, is 'The Human Tank!'"
Gunnard: ... Seriously, how childish!
Rusty's face twisted in a sneer as he glared at Gunnard with intimidating eyes. "What's wrong? Scared speechless? And you think you can take me on one-on-one? With those skinny arms and legs, one hit from me, and I'll crush you into dust!"
Such trash talk had no effect on Gunnard. He even felt like laughing. "There's just one part of me that's thicker than yours, and that's enough."
Rusty paused, his 286-grade brain struggling to figure out what Gunnard was implying.
"Enough!" Coach Carter waved his hand. "For this defensive test, Rusty, you'll start from the center circle and dribble the ball to the edge of the penalty area. If you succeed, you win. As for you, kid, your task is to defend and intercept Rusty. Don't let him get into the penalty area. If you can steal the ball and kick it past the halfway line, then you win—got it, both of you?"
Gunnard and Rusty nodded simultaneously. "Understood."
The rules for this test were simple, but the simpler the rules, the more they tested true skill.
Coach Carter then turned to Rusty. "Rusty, don't embarrass the Stag Antlers. If you lose, it's a hundred frog jumps for you!"
Rusty immediately puffed out his chest and pounded it. "Coach! Don't worry! This human tank isn't losing to anyone!"
Carter's voice deepened. "Alright, you both have five minutes to prepare."
With that, Carter picked up the tactical board he had angrily thrown to the ground, sat on a bench by the field, and began to examine it seriously. "Can this thing even be fixed? Damn that Orlin!"
Rusty sneered at Gunnard. "I can't believe you actually want to join the school team. Are you here to cause trouble?"
Gunnard smiled calmly. "No, I really do want to join the team."
Rusty grinned wickedly. "Good, because I'm about to show you that you don't belong here! You just said the other day that you've never played football before, and now you want to join the team? You think you can just waltz into the Stag Antlers like that? Look at you, all skin and bones. One hit from me, and you'll fall apart! And those shoes! Hahaha, you're still wearing casual shoes? What, do you think you're playing golf? I'll crush your feet with just one step! And when that happens, don't come crying!"
Gunnard chuckled. "Thanks for the reminder. If you hadn't said anything, I might've forgotten to change into my new football boots."
With that, Gunnard casually set down his sports bag and pulled out a pair of brand-new Messi signature football boots. The light gold color of the boots perfectly complemented the natural grass pitch.
As soon as Rusty saw the boots, his expression froze, and his eyes were drawn to the shiny Messi boots.
These were the boots Rusty had been dreaming of owning!
Rusty licked his lips. "Are those the insanely expensive Messi signature F10 TRX FG football boots?"
Gunnard, still calm and collected, replied, "Expensive? Not really, just £1,999."
"What did you say? Just?!" Rusty's face twitched with disbelief.
Although Southampton High School was a private school, it wasn't on the same level as elite institutions like King's College, Eton, or Westminster School, so £1,999 was a significant amount of money for a student like Rusty.
Rusty had been planning to work at his dad's car wash for the summer after the national cup games to save up for those very boots. But before he even started saving, Gunnard had already got his hands—or rather, his feet—on them!
Rusty looked longingly at the boots in Gunnard's hands. "Can I…touch them?"
Gunnard smiled politely. "Of course…not."
Rusty clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. "Damn it! You think I care? Those must be fakes! Kid, I'm going to destroy you today!"
With that, Rusty angrily turned and headed to the center circle to prepare.
*Ding~*
*Emotion detected: 52 points of negative emotion from Chris "Rusty" Dick. System bubble generating…*
A plump white bubble formed where Rusty had just been standing.
Hmm?
While putting on his shin guards, socks, and boots, Gunnard discreetly touched the white bubble.
The white bubble burst into a colorful thread of light, which flowed into Gunnard's body.
*Ding~*
*The host has collected the following reward from an ordinary bubble: 10 hours of specialized strength training. Today's collection progress: 3/10.*
Nice!
Gunnard took a deep breath, feeling a surge of newfound strength in his body. This was the result of Rusty's intense, sweat-soaked training!
*Friendly reminder: The host has accumulated 100 hours of specialized training, earning 1 corresponding talent point.*
Training rewards in football could only be applied to football-related attributes, not to acting or other skills. However, the talent points obtained from interacting with Sophie could be applied to any skill or attribute.
After a brief consideration, Gunnard decided to hold off on using the talent point. With a strength rating of 60, he should be more than capable in a high school amateur league. Of course, if he found himself struggling against Rusty, he could always add points on the fly. Adding points was just a matter of focusing his mind, with no other effects.
In fact, adding points at the right moment could even create unexpected results.
Gunnard quickly finished putting on his socks and boots, did a quick warm-up routine, and jogged onto the field.
Rusty stood in the center circle with a cocky expression, the ball at his feet, arms crossed over his chest.
The other school team players paused their training to gather around and watch the show.
Coach Carter set down his broken tactical board and checked his watch. "Alright, you two, start whenever you're ready."
end.