Fantasy Football-Chapter 34: Bad Company.
The sound of the whistle came through the stadium speakers, signaling the end of the 45 min match, after Tasty’s goal that put the Dark Elites up 3–1, many among the spectators had believed that would be the final score.
However, that wasn’t all, as Tasty had scored once more before the end of the match to complete his hat trick, sending the crowd into a frenzy as they cheered for him louder than ever after watching a beautiful display from him.
Even many who had bet against them stopped checking their tickets and applauded the Dark Elites’ performance, with the No. 9 on Tasty’s back burning itself into their minds.
To them all the last goal had been magical, Tasty had received a curved pass from Mojo, who had skillfully dribbled past the Striders’ FC right back before sweeping in a low, curling ball with his right foot toward Tasty who had one of the central defenders on his tail.
However; even with all that interference Tasty had still been able to respond instantly the ball got to him, without overthinking much, he had met the pass by slamming his left foot through the ball the moment it reached him, as if he’d already decided on the action a second earlier.
The ball flew all the way toward the top-right corner, the goalkeeper didn’t even react as it passed, he was frozen in surprise as it hit the net, awakening his dazed state.
The match that had become dreadful for Striders FC finally ended, and the Dark Elites began filing down their tunnel amid small talk and laughter. Mystic followed behind them, watching his team bond, one of the most important ingredients for any squad and felt proud of the family he was building.
Then he pulled up the notification screen he’d minimized earlier to see what was new, and what he saw shocked him into stillness for a few seconds, leaving him unable to move.
Kado – Lvl 7 (4/200) → Lvl 7 (20/200)
Kehinde Okududu – Lvl 4 (5/80) → Lvl 4 (9/80)
Iyang James – Lvl 4 (11/80) → Lvl 4 (15/80)
Madugbugo Chinoso – Lvl 4 (12/80) → Lvl 4 (16/80)
Kofo – Lvl 4 (6/80) → Lvl 4 (11/80)
Jimoh Olusegun – Lvl 6 (23/150) → Lvl 6 (35/150)
Peter Lambert – Lvl 6 (62/150) → Lvl 6 (70/150)
Daniel Mojo – Lvl 6 (63/150) → Lvl 6 (75/150)
Peter Oyebuchi – Lvl 5 (22/100) → Lvl 5 (30/100)
Iyanda Sunday – Lvl 6 (64/150) → Lvl 6 (72/150)
Ogunsalu Damilare – Lvl 7 (26/200) → Lvl 7 (38/200)
Jimoh Olushola – Lvl 4 (4/80) → Lvl 4 (8/80)
Eboye Victor – Lvl 4 (9/80) → Lvl 4 (13/80)
Apari – Lvl 5 (34/100) → Lvl 5 (42/100)
Yeah, Mystic had always believed that when they finally won, it would be worth it, and he’d celebrate with his players.
He’d been expecting a 3×times experience bonus for a victory; no one told him it would be a 4×times experience bonus isntesad .
They’d only played 45 minutes, so he wasn’t expecting the gains to spike so high, however it seems as if the system didn’t care about the minutes played, only the result.
And since it approved of the win, it paid out.
Seeing this, Mystic knew he was about to get obsessed with winning, as victories didn’t just save days of training; they were also the fastest path to pushing someone to Bronze rank before the street champions tournament began.
—
Elsewhere in the Underground Stadium, in a VIP room that is used to house the big shots, one of such men was watching from above.
Most didn’t show up every night, but today one of the main bosses happened to be in, and he’d witnessed the Dark Elites’ match.
“What a beautiful game, tell me everything you know about this new team that’s chosen to honor the underground with their presence,” the boss asked, still riding the thrill of what he’d just watched.
Though he knew of better teams—heck, he could even organize a Silver-ranked match just by making his intentions known, but there was something about watching the Dark Elites play that excited him, and he was starting to believe this might be the start of something special.
He sat in one of the throne-like chairs in the room, surrounded by his personal guards. As soon as he made his interest known, a bodyguard stepped out and, five minutes later, he had returned with a file, presenting it to his boss.
“Hmmm. Viper vouched for them? That’s odd, why would a Shomolu gangster boss who’s never shown interest in sports entertainment do that? There must be a link somewhere,” the boss muttered, scanning the information in front of him.
“Broke club. Single owner. Legitimate registration. What a drag. Clubs like this are hard to entice with promises, and why would a team like that even risk its players playing an underground match, where players can so easily pick up injuries?”
He kept talking to himself as he shifted to Mystic’s details, the more he read, the less it made sense to him.
By all accounts, the club should have crashed, they’d lost almost everything, including a Bronze-rank striker, according to the profile he was holding.
Yet somehow an eighteen-year-old had managed to drag the dying club back to a state where it seems they had little life.
“Fuego, get me Viper, tell him one of the dons wants a word and that it’s in his best interest to respond to me quickly.” With that, the boss set the file aside and looked
ahead as the next match was about to begin.
