Reincarnated As A Wonderkid-Chapter 549: A boy who loved football.

The plane was silent. It was the middle of the night over the Atlantic Ocean.

The cabin lights were dim. Most of the players were asleep.

Alex sat by the window. He looked down at the dark water below.

He couldn’t sleep.

He was thinking.

Life.

It was a strange concept.

He looked at Mark, who was sleeping in the seat next to him. Mark was wearing his neck pillow on top of his head like a crown. He was drooling slightly.

"What does Mark think of life?" Alex wondered.

For Mark, life was simple. Run fast. Eat pizza. Make jokes. Be happy.

Mark didn’t worry about the future. He didn’t regret the past. He lived in the moment. The "Now".

"He is the happiest person I know," Alex thought. "Maybe he is the smartest one too."

He looked across the aisle at Rico.

Rico was awake. He was watching highlights of Ronaldinho on his tablet. His eyes were wide, full of wonder.

For Rico, life was a dance. It was about expression. Joy. rhythm. If he couldn’t dance with the ball, he wasn’t alive.

"He plays to be seen," Alex thought. "To show the world his soul."

He looked at Steve, the manager, sitting at the front. Steve was reading a tactical report. Even in his sleep, Steve was probably moving magnets on a whiteboard.

For Steve, life was a puzzle. A problem to be solved. Strategy. Control. Victory.

"And me?" Alex whispered to the window. "What do I think of life?"

He had lived three of them.

Danein Blake thought life was a struggle. A fight against the odds. A disappointment.

Leon Fischer thought life was a game. A system to be hacked. A level to be completed.

But Alex Finch...

Alex Finch was starting to think that life was... a team sport.

It wasn’t about the individual stats. It wasn’t about the awards. It was about the people you played with.

The shared laughter. The shared pain. The shared pizza.

"Maybe that is the secret," Alex thought. "It is not about winning the game. It is about who you play it with."

He smiled.

He closed his eyes.

"Hey Professor," Mark mumbled in his sleep. "Pass the ketchup."

"Catch it," Alex whispered back.

New York. The Final.

The Club World Cup Final. Arsenal vs Manchester City. MetLife Stadium.

It was the biggest stage. The biggest rival.

The stadium was a monster. Eighty-two thousand seats.

Alex stood in the tunnel.

Phil Foden was there. He looked focused.

"You look tired," Foden said.

"Jet lag," Alex lied. "Or maybe just bored of beating you."

Foden laughed. "You have jokes now. I like it."

Haaland was there. He was staring at the wall.

"Robot," Mark whispered. "Do you need an oil change?"

Haaland turned his head slowly. "I need goals."

"I need a taco," Mark replied.

The whistle blew.

The game started.

It was intense.

City played their possession game. Pass. Pass. Pass.

Arsenal played their counter game. Wait. Wait. Strike.

In the fifteenth minute, De Bruyne found a gap. He played a ball through to Haaland.

Haaland ran. Saliba ran.

Haaland used his strength. He pushed Saliba off.

He shot.

Raya saved.

"Strong!" Saliba shouted. "He is a bear!"

"Be a bigger bear!" Gabriel yelled back.

Arsenal struggled to get the ball. City were suffocating them.

Alex tried to find space. But Rodri was shadowing him.

"You are everywhere," Alex said to Rodri.

"I am the map," Rodri replied.

Thirty fifth minute.

City scored.

Foden dribbled past Zinchenko. He cut back.

Bernardo Silva was there.

He tapped it in.

Goal.

Zero one. Manchester City.

The City fans cheered. Blue Moon.

"They are too good!" Rico complained. "They have the ball on a string!"

Alex stood in the center circle.

He looked at his teammates. They looked defeated.

He remembered his thoughts on the plane.

It is about who you play with.

He clapped his hands.

"Look at me!" Alex shouted.

The team looked.

"We are not just a team!" Alex yelled. "We are a family! We fight for each other! Not for the trophy! For us!"

Mark looked at him. "For the pizza too?"

"Yes, Mark! For the pizza!"

"FOR THE PIZZA!" Mark screamed.

Arsenal restarted.

The energy changed.

They stopped respecting City. They started fighting.

Rice tackled Rodri. Gabriel tackled Haaland.

Fifty fifth minute.

Alex won the ball in midfield.

He didn’t look for the perfect pass. He looked for his friends.

He saw Rico.

Alex passed.

Rico didn’t try to be fancy. He ran. He ran for the team.

He passed to Saka.

Saka crossed.

Mark was there.

Mark jumped. He wasn’t the tallest. But he wanted it more.

He headed it.

Goal.

One one.

Mark ran to Alex. He hugged him.

"FOR THE FAMILY!" Mark shouted. "AND THE PIZZA!"

The game was tied.

City were rattled. They weren’t used to teams fighting back like this.

Seventy fifth minute.

De Bruyne tried a long pass.

Alex intercepted it.

He read the game. He saw the future.

Alex drove forward.

He saw the City defense backing off.

He saw a gap.

He could shoot.

But he saw something else.

He saw Martinelli making a run on the left.

Alex played a "No-Look Reverse Pass".

It was magic. It fooled everyone.

Martinelli ran onto it.

He crossed low.

Havertz (who had come on for Jesus) was there.

He slid.

Goal.

Two one. Arsenal.

The stadium erupted.

"We did it!" Rico screamed. "We turned it around!"

Eighty fifth minute.

City threw everything.

Haaland hit the post. Foden missed a sitter.

Arsenal held on. They defended like a pack of wolves.

Ninetieth minute.

Injury time.

City had a free kick. Edge of the box.

De Bruyne stood over it.

Alex stood in the wall.

He looked at De Bruyne.

"You will miss," Alex whispered.

De Bruyne hit it.

It hit the wall. It hit Alex’s chest.

It hurt. But Alex didn’t care.

He cleared the ball.

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 2. Manchester City 1.

Champions of the World. Again.

Alex fell to the ground.

It was over.

The season. The tournament. The journey.

Mark jumped on him. Rico jumped on him.

They were a pile of happy, sweaty, tired friends.

"We are the best!" Mark yelled. "The best family!"

Alex smiled.

He looked at the sky.

Milo ran onto the pitch. He was wearing a suit made of maps.

"THE EXPLORER!" Milo screamed. "WE CONQUERED THE GLOBE! ALEX! I AM SELLING PIECES OF THE WORLD! I HAVE A JAR OF DIRT FROM BRAZIL! A STONE FROM EGYPT! AND A HOT DOG FROM NEW YORK! ONLY ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR THE SET!"

"Milo, that hot dog is old," Alex laughed.

"IT IS VINTAGE!" Milo yelled.

They walked to the podium.

Odegaard lifted the trophy.

Alex lifted it.

He looked at the reflection in the gold.

He saw himself.

Not Danein. Not Leon.

Just Alex.

A boy who loved football. A boy who loved his friends.

A boy who was happy.

"What do you think of life now, Professor?" Mark asked, holding a medal in his teeth.

Alex looked at the confetti falling. He looked at the smiles.

"I think," Alex said. "I think life is a game worth playing."

"Especially if you win," Mark grinned.

"Especially if you play with friends," Alex corrected.

"And eat pizza," Mark added.

"And eat pizza," Alex agreed.