Both teams reappear on the field to the cheers of the crowd. The sun is still high, but the atmosphere has changed. PvP FC may lead 6-0, but the end of the first half showed a more combative, more aggressive Prince Louis FC under the scorching heat. The stadium remains ablaze with energy. Despite the score, Prince Louis FC supporters sing to encourage their young heroes.
Coach Bayo of PvP FC signals to his players. Tesuka, stoic as ever, exchanges a knowing look with Bamchwe and Salu. He won't say much, but his gaze is enough. He knows the second half won't be a walk in the park.
PvP FC players calmly reposition themselves. Tesuka, still serene, glances up at the sky for a few seconds.
— Time to let the others shine... he murmurs.
Fruuuuut!!!!!
The whistle blows. Prince Louis FC starts strong. Kamikaze picks up a sloppy pass, rushes forward, and attempts a shot from the edge of the box.
The ball flies over. Still, the bench applauds the intent.
— There it is, they're starting to dare! — comments Madi.
Two minutes later, "Vision B+ activated", Tesuka drops deep to retrieve the ball. "Short pass B- activated", he executes a quick one-two with Bamchwe, with precision.
An opposing defender rushes in. "Dribble – Fake Shot: A / Cut: A", Tesuka gets past him with a flawless fake shot followed by a cut.
He looks up, "Game Vision: B+", and spots Elysée calling in the gap.
"Short Pass: B-", a perfectly timed pass.
Elysée tries a low shot across goal. The keeper dives and tips it out.
Corner for PvP FC.
At the 34th minute, the ball is played back. Tesuka is alone 25 meters out. "Shooting: C", he shoots without controlling.
The ball flies into the clouds.
— Missed! Even he has his limits! — laughs a spectator.
Right after the action, Prince Louis FC counters. Raoul, an attacking midfielder, gets past Salu and unleashes a powerful shot. Tesuka, tracking back, throws himself into the block with agility.
"Agility: S- / Focus: B-"
The ball is deflected and goes out for a throw-in.
— He's everywhere, that's not human! — shouts a teen in the stands.
As soon as the action ends, "Speed B- activated", Tesuka sprints toward the opponent's half. Elysée spots him and sends a pass out of nowhere. "Stamina: B- / Speed: B- / Ball Control: A-" Tesuka receives it in his own half and takes off with the ball.
A defender tries to stop him. "Dribble – Step Over: A / Spin Move: A", Tesuka performs a Step Over followed by a Spin Move.
He beats his man, advances, and faces two more defenders. Elysée and Bamchwe make overlapping runs. "Vision / Short Pass: B-". He picks Bamchwe, who fires a powerful shot—
GOAL... NO! Offside!
— What a build-up! Even if it was offside, it was beautiful! — exclaims Madi.
With six minutes to go before the second-half break, Prince Louis FC pushes forward. Kamikaze tries a long shot. It goes well wide.
Two minutes later, Raoul gives it a try. The shot is on target, but the goalkeeper stops it.
Then, the ball circulates within PvP FC. Salu to Petro, then to Bamchwe. He spots Tesuka in the middle.
— Here! Make us dream, genius! — shouts Bamchwe, sending a driven pass.
Tesuka controls the ball perfectly with his left thigh. He's quickly surrounded.
Dribble – Cut: A
A small inside cut, he beats one defender. Another one lunges?
Dribble – Fake Shot: A
He fakes the shot, the defender dives... into nothing.
— Where you going, bro? The ball's right here! — teases Abdoul.
Then, Tesuka looks up. Abdoul starts a run behind the defenders. A perfect through ball is needed.
Game Vision: B+ / Short Pass: B-
Tesuka slips it between two defenders. Abdoul receives it in full stride.
— Beautiful! It's mine! — he yells.
Abdoul finishes with the inside of his foot...
GOAL!! Woooh!!! The fox, what a genius, Abdoul scores! I've got tears in my eyes — what a goal fest! We're being spoiled!
PvP FC 7 – 0 Prince Louis FC
The fans erupt. Abdoul runs to Tesuka with arms wide open.
— That pass! You teleported me in front of the goal, bro! — The timing is everything. Nice finish, Abdoul, says Tesuka calmly.
It's Tesuka's first assist of the match. The crowd loves it, but notices the prodigy seems reserved.
Even though the gap is widening, Prince Louis FC won't give up. Kamikaze intercepts a pass, advances, and tries a 20-meter shot. It's powerful but off target.
— Prince Louis hasn't said their last word — says Madi.
— Argh! I wanted to curl it into the top corner! — groans Kamikaze. — Nice try, but you opened your foot too much — replies Bakari.
After that, PvP FC's pressing intensifies. Petro wins the ball, passes to Tesuka. He pauses.
— They're reading us better now — he whispers to Bamchwe. — We need more improvisation. Catch them off guard.
Tesuka shrugs, then makes a quick sequence.
Dribble – Step Over: A / Agility: S-
He slips between two opponents but gets shoved by Assumani. Free kick.
— He's starting to piss me off — mutters Assumani. — Then wipe that smirk off his face — replies Kamikaze coldly.
Free kick. Petro and Tesuka stand over the ball.
— You shooting? — No. Fake it. I'll lob it, Tesuka murmurs.
Petro fakes the shot. Tesuka gently lifts the ball toward Salu.
Long Pass: C+
Salu attempts a volley. Blocked! The ball rebounds to Elysée, who shoots — saved by the keeper!
PvP FC still hungry for goals, and Tesuka is playing even more selflessly than in the first half.
Before the action ends, Tesuka strings together quick combinations. He slips into gaps.
He performs a Flick Over on a defender toward Bamchwe.
Short pass to Salu. Salu delivers a low cross.
Goal for Elysée!
No—again… offside. What a shame, they deserved better from that move.
Two minutes before the break, the opposing team increases the pressure. They intercept three of Tesuka's passes in a row. His focus seems slightly off — or so others think.
— Come on, pull yourself together, kid... — mutters an old man in the stands.
Another chance for Prince Louis FC. Bakari gets past Petro and shoots. The keeper parries, Kamikaze follows up... and Tesuka blocks the shot with his chest.
— He throws himself in without hesitation… incredible! — yells Madi.
Lightning counterattack.
Tesuka gets the ball, cuts in, fake shot, drawing in three defenders.
He lays it off for Bamchwe behind him.
Game Vision: B+ / Short Pass: B-
Shot. The ball deflects off a defender... and into the net!
But no — a foul was called earlier in the build-up.
Free kick for Prince Louis FC.
They keep pushing. Amor tries a turn-and-shoot. It brushes past the top corner.
— Such determination despite the score! — admires Madi.
Tesuka, playing very deep, "Long Pass: C+", organizes the play. He launches a long pass to Elysée.
Elysée controls it, dribbles a defender, then shoots...
Reflex save by the keeper!
Ooooh, what a match, what a match! Action after action, all in just 6 minutes!
Halftime — let the kids rest so they can come back and serve us one last delight for the final 15 minutes! — shouts Madi.
---
The sun had almost disappeared behind the crowded stands, but the tension on the pitch was only rising. PvP FC supporters were chanting Tesuka's name at the top of their lungs, as their team already led 7-0. For many, the match seemed sealed… but not for Prince Louis FC.
Fweeeet! The whistle blows—the game resumes after halftime.
In the 46th minute…
The ball rolls gently along the touchline, nearly brushing the boots of an opposing player. The assistant referee raises his flag without hesitation: throw-in for PvP FC, around the center circle. Nothing spectacular on the surface—just a simple stoppage, routine in the heart of a match. The kind of moment one might consider trivial. But in Tesuka's eyes, nothing is trivial. Not when you have that kind of clarity in your game vision, that almost supernatural ability to feel spaces before they even open.
The ball is calmly handed to him, and he gently brushes it with the tip of his right foot. No rush. He barely lifts his eyes, but in that brief instant, an entire world unfolds before him. As if he were gazing at a strategist's chessboard, where every piece moved according to invisible lines only he could see. His gaze scans the trajectories. One, two, three moves. Abdoul is on the run—a sharp, vertical run, cutting through the right flank.
> "Abdoul, straight line, go!" Tesuka shouts. His voice pierces through the stadium's buzz, clear, controlled, unwavering. It's a command, not a plea.
Abdoul doesn't even look back. He accelerates. He knows that if he hears that voice, the ball will come. Always. His legs slice through the turf like two synchronized blades. He's barely into his sprint when Tesuka makes the pass—a short one. A small gesture, nothing flashy: inside of the right foot, a fast, flat, tight pass. It zips at knee height, slipping between the legs of Amor, the opposing defensive midfielder, wrong-footed like a pawn on a board too complex for him to read.
A gasp of astonishment ripples through the crowd. Even the most jaded fans fall silent before this kind of move. It's not just a pass. It's a love letter to motion, a precise cry in the middle of chaos.
Abdoul receives the ball in full stride. He doesn't slow down, doesn't waste a second adjusting: an angled instep control—perfect, fluid. He glides between two defenders like water, chased by Moustapha, the massive central stopper.
But Moustapha is too late. He tries to recover, arms out, shoulders tense—but Abdoul doesn't budge. His center of gravity is low, his footing solid. He absorbs the shoulder impact without collapsing. His eyes are already locked on the goal.
The keeper comes out. He closes the near post angle like he was trained to. He spreads his arms, steps forward, shouting something unintelligible at his defenders. But it's too late. Abdoul swings his leg with a quick, compact motion—and shoots.
BAM.
The ball slams against the inside of the near post and rockets in. The net shudders violently. The stands erupt.
> GOAL FOR PvP FC! 8-0.
The announcer screams, the crowd rises. On the bench, teammates explode with joy. Some jump, others clap, others are left speechless by what they just witnessed.
But on the pitch, it's different.
Tesuka doesn't run toward Abdoul. He watches from afar, a quiet smile on his lips. That kind of goal—it's a conversation between two people, a symphony without sheet music. Abdoul knows it too. He returns a knowing glance, a nod. No words needed.
That's when the opposing captain punches the ground in frustration. He's had enough. 8-0. There's frustration, of course—but more than that, a sense of powerlessness. They haven't even played badly. They've run, defended, tried. But they're up against a team possessed by the game, a team that sees the play two seconds before everyone else.
Tesuka walks back toward the center circle. He's not seeking glory. He never has. For him, it's not the goal that matters—it's the precision of intention, the purity of the link between him and his teammates. Abdoul understood his signal. He followed the invisible line Tesuka had traced with his eyes.
The camera lingers briefly on him. His black hair is soaked with sweat, his eyes squint slightly under the late afternoon sun. You can sense an extreme yet peaceful concentration—like a chess master who already sees the next ten moves.
---
On the sideline, a district scout takes a few notes. Not much—just two names. Tesuka. Abdoul. And one word in capital letters beside them: UNDERSTANDING.
Because that's what truly makes the difference. Not technique. Not even physicality. But that rare ability to understand each other in motion—to read the other's intention before the ball even arrives.
---
In the stands, a young boy tugs on his father's sleeve:
> "Daddy, why are the ones in black so good?"
The father smiles.
> "Because they play with their heads before they play with their feet."
---
A breeze sweeps the pitch. The game continues, but nothing will ever quite be the same. In that instant, in that single minute of a simple match, something was revealed. A duo. A vision. A fragment of collective genius.
And in the invisible pages of amateur football, a moment was born.
---
Tesuka, in his role as offensive midfield maestro, recovered the ball near the edge of the opponent's box. His close control—precise, almost hypnotic—allowed him to eliminate a defender with an elegant pivot dribble.
> "Give me the ball, I'm going to hurt them," he murmured to Salu, who offered him a one-two.
With a glance, he spotted Abdoul—his striker—sprinting down the right wing. He delivered a short pass, perfectly weighted.
Abdoul controlled it, took a sharp step forward, and pulled off a flick-over to beat his direct defender.
The play accelerated. Abdoul took the shot—but the ball smashed off the post and rebounded in front of the goal line. Raoul, from Prince Louis, rushed in to clear—but his intervention was blocked. Olenga, the goalkeeper, dove to recover the ball right on the goal line, making a heroic save.
Tension rose. The crowd stood up, applauding this first warning shot.
But Prince Louis didn't lower their guard.
Less than two minutes later, Amor recovered a loose ball at midfield. With a long dribble, he crossed the halfway line and launched a lightning-fast counterattack. He found Raoul, who cut past Bamchwe with a quick move and surged toward the goal.
> "Defense, don't give up!" shouted Kamikaze, trying to recover.
Raoul wound up for a shot—but Kamikaze managed to get a hand on the ball, slightly deflecting the strike which rolled just wide.
Keeper Olenga was already diving, ready to grab the ball if needed.
---