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Long Horror

The Long Shot

Since he was six years old, Adrian Nero has always had a dream. Thanks to his father's influence, he developed a great interest in football at a very young age. He loved the way the game was played, the way a team of eleven players worked together to score as many goals as possible against their opponents while conceding as little as possible, he loved the tactical aspect of the game with teams trying to play to their strengths and their opponent's weaknesses. But more than those, he loved watching the players lift trophies after winning a tournament. That's right, the thing Adrian liked the most about football was lifting trophies. Immersing himself in any game, his favourite teams played, he always felt like he was there celebrating and smiling with them. He loved that feeling. 'I'll really be there one day.' He always thought to himself. Despite his father's love for the game, his parents did not exactly support his dream to become a footballer and preferred him to go to a normal school to study and get a normal job. However, all hope was not lost as his high school was one of the schools that strongly supported having sports activities in their curriculum and it wasn't just for formality's sake. Adrian fought his way through, becoming the captain of the football team as early as the first year of senior high. With his help the team grew to become quite a formidable one and was named as one of the favourites going into the qualifications for the intercontinental highschool tournament, a competition taking place in his last year of highschool and his chance to lift his first trophy. That was when disaster struck. Due to work reasons, Adrian was forced to move back to his home country with his family leaving behind the team he had worked hard to put together. However, he was fortunate enough to find himself in a school eligible to take part in the qualifications for the tournament. Finding out about that, he felt that all hope wasn't lost, a feeling that was soon carried away by the wind. Sino Academy, although possessing a very good and well-maintained pitch alongside the basic equipment, was one that never took sports seriously. In all the times they had participated in the tournament, they had only been able to get through the qualifications once but miserably failed to get through the group stage. This was an event of fifteen years ago. Facing a school with a non-existent team and players that lacked teamwork, coordination and motivation, Adrian couldn't help but feel that his dream was far beyond his reach.
Mel_Lerion · 1.8K Views

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DISCLAIMER: This story is not owned by me. All rights belong to the original author and copyright holder. This copy is provided for offline reading purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended, and if the rightful owner requests removal, it will be taken down immediately. The washed-up magician Zong Jiu transmigrated into a horror, infinite flow novel about a survival show, taking the place of the cannon fodder who died tragically in the first evaluation round. This show was very interesting. Out of the tens of thousands of people, only a hundred people could survive, and the c-position (strongest contender) could even get a universal wish ticket. If it were someone else, they’d probably be scared to death. No one expected that Zong Jiu was not only unafraid, but also caused a sensational stir, shamelessly showing off his tricks the whole way. Once his tricks stopped, and his life could be considered safe and sound, he ended up in a rivalry with the novel’s big villain. Today you try to get at me, tomorrow I’ll get you back, back and forth, it’s pretty fun, heh. As a result, though it was just playing around, one time they got carried away and really did end up sleeping together. Watching the nemesis who was pressing him to the ground, Zong Jiu lazily lifted his gaze. “If you want to kill me then kill me, don’t speak nonsense.” Even when at a disadvantage, he showed no trace of fear, and actually continued to provoke him. That person used his ice-cold finger to trace his ear, and the action heading toward the aorta suddenly stopped. “What a pity. I’ve changed my mind.” — He was once very willing to personally give Zong Jiu death. Every day, he used to regret not gouging out his flesh, personally snapping his neck. But after this person fell into his hands, another, more urgent desire grew like weeds. Compared to winning or losing, he would rather see him crying and panting, with eyes red, begging for mercy.
zarawang · 9.1K Views
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