What makes a game of football enjoyable to watch?
It wasn't an easy question to answer. Some people enjoyed a team's tactics and structure, while others admired an individual's flair and improvisation. Perhaps they only cared about their home team—or the tension that built on the pitch as the game wore on.
And yet, none of those things explicitly guaranteed an enjoyable experience for the audience.
A match could finish 1–0 and keep an entire stadium holding its breath, while another could end 8–3 and be forgotten before the crowd even left their seats. World Cup games could fail to capture the public's interest, while spontaneous recreational matches were talked about for months afterward.
In the end, a game's impact couldn't be determined beforehand. Sure, professional critics and analysts could try to predict the outcome of a game, but only once the players stepped onto the pitch could any value be placed on it.
The first half of Ryusei's match embodied that perfectly.
It didn't matter that it was only a U12 match. It also didn't matter that it was only in the first round of the regional tournament. If anything, those prejudices only made the game feel more compelling.
The crowd remained on edge, never knowing when an attack would finally break through. Each time one team looked close to pulling through, the other team stepped in. Both sides' tenacity was visible to everyone watching; neither team was willing to give up.
Unlike many teams Ryusei had faced before, who gave up after conceding a few goals, Alto stayed committed to their play.
That commitment made the game far more strenuous for Ryo, but also far more enjoyable. For Ryo, more difficult games were the most satisfying ones to play. If they won, the victory would feel well-earned. And if they lost, he could accept it knowing he had given it his all.
As the second half wore on and fatigue crept into his legs, Ryo found himself enjoying the game even more.
The tension only continued rising as the clock passed the 50th, then the 55th, and eventually the 60th minute. Ryusei's high press remained strong, yet they couldn't get through Alto's defense.
Yuichi held the defensive line together despite the constant pressure, organizing his teammates and allowing them to fend off attack after attack. Once or twice, Alto even managed to counter—but they were shut down instantly.
Both Ryo and Ren were heavily marked. Alto understood the danger of leaving either of the two unguarded. Ryo had already scored twice and had been a catalyst for the third goal, so marking him was essential. Ren hadn't scored yet, but the threat he posed was undeniable, so Alto had no choice but to mark him as well.
For fifteen minutes, Alto managed to contain them without too much trouble. But after that, it became increasingly difficult to keep marking both Ren and Ryo.
Man-marking was already exhausting—players had to fully concentrate on sticking close to someone and preventing them from getting the ball—but marking players like Ren and Ryo made it ten times worse.
They were players who never stood still—always sprinting, stopping, or changing directions—even if the ball was far from them. All of the extra effort that had to be spent caused Alto's markers to wear down extremely quickly.
During a brief pause in play after the ball crossed the touchline, Ryo observed his mark and took note of his condition.
He's finally starting to wear out. I've barely been able to get a foot on the ball since the marking began, but it might be a bit easier now.
As he repositioned himself, he looked over at the other side of the pitch where the throw-in was taking place.
Huh, is Ren's mark also getting tired? We might be able to take advantage before they change their markers.
However, saying that and executing it were two completely different things. It would be quite difficult to create a genuine opening—or so he thought.
Merely seconds after Alto's throw-in, Ren sprinted towards the ball and stole it from their midfield, leaving his mark far behind. Eguchi Hideki, the right midfielder positioned behind Ren, ran forward to support him.
After their encounter at the beginning of the school year, Hideki became a lot closer to both Ryo and Ren. While it had been a bit awkward at first, their coordination and teamwork slowly improved as the year progressed. Hideki would sometimes join in on their practice-after-practice sessions, and the results had become clear in their matches.
Hideki had become a crucial player in instigating attacks on the right, enabling a rapid link-up between the defense and Ren. This also gave the team more options to set up attacks, allowing the ball to quickly move up the right side of the pitch.
And now, in their first game at regionals, after dozens of previous matches in the league, Ren and Hideki's coordination was as smooth as butter. The moment Ren had shot forward, Hideki followed.
Beautifully weaving around the straggling players, Ren quickly approached Alto's defensive line. Their defense held firm, with two players getting ready to contest Ren.
However, Ren didn't challenge the players as he had with the preceding ones. Instead, Ren lightly tapped the ball backwards with his right foot, the pass seamlessly connecting to Hideki, who was cutting towards the center.
With the defenders now slightly over-extended, Hideki switched the play and immediately sent the ball left instead of returning it to Ren. On the other end, Ken had also sprinted forward, supporting the attack from the left, ready to break their defense.
However, Ken knew he was just a go-between. He didn't have a clear shot on goal, nor did he have a clear way forward. But he did have a direct line of sight to Ren, running past the two defenders, rapidly approaching the box.
Without a moment of hesitation, Ken threaded a pass to Ren, grazing the grass as it flew low. With a slight stretch of his right foot, Ren controlled the ball, letting it roll forward, and with one more step, he struck.
The shot flew straight into the goal before the goalie could react.
The stands erupted. A sudden break in the 64th minute—one that nobody had expected—led to a goal. Ren, overjoyed, celebrated the goal with the rest of the attack as the goal weighed heavily on Alto, with some of their players rooted in place.
Ryo quietly watched the celebration from behind.
To think Ren would bulldoze his way to a goal. I guess he saw his marker tiring after all…
As he kept observing, he thought back on the goal.
I really didn't have a chance to do anything there… My chances of scoring a third goal are becoming slimmer with every minute.
Just then, Ren suddenly turned his head around.
When his eyes found Ryo's, his mouth curled up into a smile.
This guy…
Ryo kept a straight face, but on the inside, he was burning. He was all too familiar with that provocative grin.
He thinks he beat me today because of that one goal? I won't let you think you've won, Ren. I'll score as many goals as it takes for you to admit defeat.
For a moment, Ryo completely forgot about The System and his quest. All he wanted was to wipe that grin off Ren's face.
After the pitch calmed down, both teams brought on new subs, replacing their exhausted players with fresh ones, and the referee restarted the game.
Fweeet
Ryo immediately pushed forward after the whistle, not wasting any time to attack. Whether it was because Alto subbed in new players or because the game just restarted, they were surprised when Ryo came running at them.
He often noticed how a restart provided a very good chance to score. Whenever a game restarted, both teams were confined to their half. This meant that many players were out of position, and as such, less comfortable with their formation and spacing.
Although most of the time it wasn't an issue—since teams quickly spread out into their usual positions—under the right pressure, those few seconds could be exploited.
On top of that, the team kicking off basically had to pass it backwards to start.
By applying pressure the instant the ball was touched, Ryo hoped that Alto's formation would be stagnant; unable to move forward in the presence of danger.
How lucky, they sent the ball left to start. I guess they're completely avoiding Ren now.
Ryo smiled at his luck, which allowed him to pursue the ball immediately. If it had been passed to the center or the right, chasing it would've completely broken their formation. But on the left, he had free rein.
The midfielder receiving the pass barely had any time to think before Ryo was on him, trying to steal the ball.
In a panic, he sloppily passed the ball backwards to his teammate, both lacking speed and precision. Without even batting an eye, Ryo chased after it with all his strength, his eyes glued to the ball's reflective surface.
It'll be close.
The intended recipient of the pass, noticing how weak it was, ran to intercept it, hoping to send the ball away before Ryo could take control.
Everyone watched in suspense as the two raced for the ball. Would Ryo be able to win the ball, or would Alto recover their possession? The crowd, the coaches, the commentators, and viewers across the prefecture all held their breaths in anticipation of the clash.
But Ryo had no intention of fighting for the ball and slowing his attack. A few steps before reaching the ball, Ryo pushed harder off his sprint, extending his right foot in front and folding his left leg back as he travelled forward.
His back leg hit the ground, but his momentum kept him going, sliding towards the ball. With the extra speed and reach gained from his slide, Ryo reached the ball first and, by cradling it on the top of his foot, knocked it off course.
The oncoming player, unable to react in time, tripped on Ryo's legs as he redirected the ball. Using the last of his momentum, Ryo planted his foot and used it as a fulcrum to push himself back up. In one fluid motion, he took control of the ball and left a player on the ground behind him, all without drawing a foul.
I have the ball now. All that's left is the defense.
Ryo still had uses for both his Misdirection and his Crowd Support skills, so he activated them without hesitation.
{Skill Activated!}
—[Misdirection – A]
{Skill Activated!}
—(Crowd Support – C)
——[Based On Current Cheering Levels, Overall Stat Increased To 44.]
With the crowd all riled up, the amount of cheers resounding in the arena was nothing to laugh at. As a result, all of Ryo's stats increased by eight points—the equivalent of almost a year's worth of improvement.
With his skills active, Ryo closed in on the defense, his eyes scanning for an opening in the line. However, not only were the defenders not showing any openings, but other players were also closing in on him. On top of that, not one of his teammates was close enough to help him, so Ryo had to do the best he could alone.
Four defenders on the line, two players on my right, and one on my left. I don't have many options.
However, Ryo wasn't about to give up—especially since he had The System at his disposal. With Misdirection and Crowd Support, Ryo had a few tricks up his sleeve.
He pushed forward even more tenaciously, unafraid of the players all around him. The first defender held his ground, so Ryo played out to the left.
The defender was forced to keep up, but instead of continuing, Ryo brought the ball backwards. The defender quickly contested, seeing this as his chance to pressure Ryo since his teammates were closing in around him.
Ryo, aware of the players on his right, had purposefully retreated—he wanted to turn their advantage of numbers against them.
The two on the right closed in simultaneously, but Ryo had already slipped the ball to the right, sending it in between the wide-open legs of the closest defender.
Before they could react, Ryo darted past the defender, squeezing past with his smaller frame and running into the open space.
Nice, the first defender got boxed in by his own teammates that came in. Only two defenders are left, including Number 4.
But now there were gaps in their defense, and more importantly, Ryo wasn't too far outside the box. Usually, this would be outside his scoring range, but his crazy increase in stats changed that.
Throughout the match, he had deliberately worked his way closer to the goal before taking his shots. He'd conditioned everyone—the defenders, the crowd, and even his teammates—to expect that.
But that had always been Ryo's strength—being able to outperform everyone's expectations of him.
His eyes lifted past the open space, toward the far side of the net. He adjusted his stride, tilted his body, and stepped cleanly into his shot.
Ryo contacted the ball perfectly, sending it forward with both power and spin. Even in his follow-through, Ryo's gaze remained locked on the ball, watching as it flew through the air, spinning towards the right side of the goal.
The goalkeeper was too late. The ball flew past him, clipping the inside of the post, and rebounded into the net.
It wasn't until then that Ryo finally relaxed.
Even as the crowd erupted, Ryo didn't move.
He stood there, his chest rising and falling, letting the moment sink in.
Only after a second did he turn his head around. Past all of his teammates rushing forward to celebrate, he saw Ren, who was standing among Alto's midfield.
Their eyes met.
Slowly, Ryo's expression changed, mirroring the same mischievous grin Ren had shown him minutes earlier.