After Arya's goal, Grand Fortuna restarted the game with a simple kick-off. Gilang received the ball in midfield and immediately took control of the game's tempo. With his usual composure, he passed the ball to Dimas on the right flank.
Arya's team quickly fell into a defensive formation. Reza, knowing that his team was outmatched in terms of skill, still pushed forward, trying to press Dimas. However, Grand Fortuna's players were too calm. Their short passes were crisp, occasionally accompanied by quick one-two touches that left Reza and his teammates chasing shadows.
The pressure kept mounting. Grand Fortuna fired several shots, forcing the goalkeeper to make saves or watching as the ball narrowly missed the target. After one of their attempts went out, they regained possession following a goal kick.
Then, a dangerous moment arrived.
Gilang spotted an open space on the right flank. With a quick signal, he alerted Dimas. Understanding his intent, Dimas received a beautiful chipped pass over both Reza and Farhan. He sprinted forward, met the ball in stride, and struck a first-time shot toward the goal.
The ball shot forward like a bullet. The goalkeeper was caught off guard, too late to react. But before it could hit the net—
A foot appeared out of nowhere.
Arya had darted in from the side, blocking the shot at the last second, deflecting it away for a corner!
"WOAH!" A loud chorus of shouts erupted from the sidelines.
"Damn, that was fast!" one of the supporters exclaimed.
The spectators, who had been watching the game with mild interest, were now leaning forward, feeling the intensity. Despite being behind, Grand Fortuna was completely dominating possession.
Dimas clenched his jaw, visibly frustrated that his shot had been denied. He stepped up to take the corner, eyes sharp with determination.
A quick pass to Gilang restarted play, and the high-paced battle resumed. Both teams traded attacks, Grand Fortuna relentlessly pressing while Arya's team fought to defend, occasionally finding moments to counterattack.
But then, Grand Fortuna finally got their breakthrough.
Gilang received the ball near the penalty area. He quickly spotted Reno in a better position and passed it to him. Without hesitation, Reno fired a powerful shot—
Smack! The ball struck Farhan's arm inside the box!
The referee wasted no time pointing to the spot.
Penalty.
Arya clenched his fist, frustration creeping in. Before he could say anything, Reza patted him on the shoulder.
"Relax. There's still time."
Reno picked up the ball and placed it on the penalty mark. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and—
Boom!
A thunderous strike sent the ball straight into the bottom corner. Unstoppable.
1-1.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Grand Fortuna finally equalized.
Arya let out a slow breath behind his pink mask, placing his hands on his hips as he glanced at the growing number of spectators.
Farhan lowered his head. "Sorry, Arya…"
Arya turned to him. "Don't worry about it. It happens. We'll strike back." But despite his words, there was still a slight edge of frustration in his voice.
On the sidelines, Raka found himself smirking slightly.
"Finally you're back, Arya," he thought, pleased to see that competitive fire reigniting in his friend.
Reza picked up the ball from the net, walking it back to the center circle. Arya's team prepared for another kick-off.
Arya's team kicked off once again.
Reza took control, trying to dictate the tempo with quick passes. He attempted to play a possession-based game, but it was easier said than done. The other players, lacking experience, struggled under pressure. Nervous touches, poor ball control—Grand Fortuna exploited every mistake, quickly regaining possession whenever Arya's teammates lost the ball.
The match remained intense, with both teams trading attacks.
Then, the moment arrived.
Arya sprinted down the pitch, his left foot dancing over the ball as his body leaned forward. His sharp gaze locked onto the gaps between players of Grand Fortuna, his mind calculating his next move. The shouts from the sidelines blurred into the background—his focus was absolute.
He had one goal: the net in front of him.
But before he could make his next move—
BRAKK!
A sudden, brutal impact slammed into his side.
Arya staggered. The ball slipped from his feet.
Gilang stood in front of him, his expression full of arrogance after delivering a hard tackle.
PRRRTTT!
The referee blew his whistle.
"Free kick! That's one foul!" the referee called.
Gilang smirked, leaning slightly toward Arya. "Need a hand getting up, Pink Man?" he taunted, his eyes gleaming with challenge.
Arya let out a sharp exhale, his glare burning through his mask. The crowd reacted in mixed voices—some cheering for Gilang, others protesting the foul. The referee hesitated for a moment but ultimately decided against giving a card.
Reza rushed over, extending a hand to Arya. "You okay?" he asked, his face serious.
Arya nodded as he stood up. Then, locking eyes with Gilang, he muttered coldly, "Play fair, idiot."
Gilang chuckled. "Relax, it's just a friendly game. By the way, I wonder what kind of ugly face is hiding behind that mask?"
Arya didn't respond. Instead, he clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and walked toward the ball. If Gilang thought he could break him so easily, he was dead wrong.
He placed the ball, taking a few steps back.
A deep breath.
A moment of silence.
Then—BOOM!
Arya unleashed a powerful free kick with his left foot.
The ball rocketed toward the goal, striking the defensive wall—only to deflect at the last second, twisting its trajectory past the goalkeeper.
GOAL!
2-1!
The sidelines erupted in cheers. Arya clenched his fist and pumped it toward Gilang, his emotions unmistakable even behind the pink mask.
Gilang's smirk disappeared. He scowled, clearly frustrated. He had provoked Arya, but now he was the one paying the price.
Arya simply turned away, jogging back to his position.
The game was far from over.