Santiago Bernabéu.Minute 60.Real Madrid 2 - 0 Bologna.
The second half began with a palpable shift in atmosphere. Real Madrid, comfortable with their two-goal lead, took their foot off the gas. Carlo Ancelotti, the pragmatic Madrid manager, substituted Vinicius Jr. to rest him for the upcoming weekend clash against Barcelona. The crowd relaxed, cheering "Olé" with every pass the home team completed.
To them, the game was over. Bologna was no longer a threat; they were just a sparring partner.
Rio Valdes jogged near the sideline, chest heaving. He was exhausted. The physical intensity of the Champions League was draining his stamina twice as fast as a Serie A match. His lungs burned, and his ribs ached from the collision with Noah earlier.
But his mind was clear. He had one card left to play.
A notification pulsed in his vision. Skill Ready: The Omniscient Trap (Active Mode). Cost: 2 Days of Lifespan. Effect: Absolute Control. The ball becomes an extension of the body for 3 seconds.
Adrian's voice echoed in his memory: "Use it to break their ankles."
Minute 65.The Impossible Catch.
It started with a mistake. Sam Beukema, under pressure from Noah Lami, cleared the ball blindly up the field. It was a terrible pass, hit with too much power and too much height. The ball soared high into the night sky, arcing toward the corner flag.
Ferland Mendy, the Real Madrid left-back, stopped running. He raised his hand, signaling for a goal kick. The ball was clearly going out of play. The crowd quieted down, expecting a stoppage.
But Rio didn't stop. He sprinted.
"He's wasting energy," the commentator said dismissively. "That ball is landing in the third row."
Rio ignored logic. He locked his eyes on the falling white sphere. He calculated the trajectory. It was going to cross the touchline at a height of two meters. Impossible to control with a chest trap. Impossible to head without running out of bounds.
Unless...
Rio gritted his teeth. Take the days.
System Notification: Payment Accepted. 2 Days Deducted. Skill Activated: The Magnet.
Rio leaped. He didn't jump to head the ball. He jumped and raised his right leg impossibly high, like a martial artist delivering a high kick.
The ball plummeted from the sky at eighty kilometers per hour. It met Rio's toe.
Normally, the ball would bounce off into the stands. But the moment it touched his boot, the laws of physics were suspended. The ball didn't bounce. It didn't roll. It stuck. It was as if Rio's boot was coated in super-glue.
Rio landed on the grass. The ball remained glued to his toe until his foot touched the ground. Then, he released it gently into his stride.
Ferland Mendy froze. He blinked, unsure if he had hallucinated. The crowd's "Olé" died in their throats. The stadium went silent. The famous "Library of Bernabéu" was stunned into silence.
Minute 66.The Silencer.
Rio didn't pause to admire his work. He had three seconds of "Absolute Control" remaining from the skill activation.
He drove into the box. Antonio Rüdiger charged at him, looking to smash him physically. Rüdiger was a tank. He threw his body weight at Rio.
Rio didn't use a dribbling move. He simply tapped the ball. But with The Magnet active, the ball obeyed his exact intention. The ball rolled through Rüdiger's open legs—a nutmeg so precise it didn't even brush the defender's shinguards.
Rüdiger stumbled, his momentum carrying him past Rio.
Now, it was just Rio and Thibaut Courtois. The giant Belgian goalkeeper rushed out, spreading his arms like a condor, covering the entire goal.
Rio's skill timer hit zero. The magic was gone. Now, it was just his own finishing ability. The Cannon was on cooldown. He had to use finesse.
He remembered the chip against Inter. He remembered the Panenka against Roma.
Rio dropped his shoulder, faking a power shot to the near post. Courtois flinched, shifting his weight. Rio opened his foot and curled the ball toward the far post.
It wasn't powerful. It was accurate. The ball curved around Courtois's fingertips and nestled into the side netting.
GOAL.Real Madrid 2 - 1 Bologna.
Rio stood in front of the silent Madrid fans. He didn't celebrate wildly. He just held up one finger. One goal. He had proven he belonged on this stage.
Minute 70.Waking the Dragon.
The Bologna bench erupted in hope. 2-1. They were back in it. A draw at the Bernabéu would be a historic result.
But on the center circle, Noah Lami was not impressed. He watched the replay of Rio's goal on the giant screen.
"Cute trick," Noah muttered.
He looked at his teammates. They looked annoyed. They had been embarrassed by a "glitch." The relaxed atmosphere vanished. Real Madrid woke up.
The referee blew the whistle for the restart.
Noah Lami received the pass. He didn't pass it back. He turned and ran straight at the Bologna defense.
"Stop him!" Beukema screamed.
Jhon Lucumi stepped up. Noah flicked the ball over Lucumi's head—a Sombrero—and ran around him. Remo Freuler tried to tackle him. Noah absorbed the contact with his Grade 99 Strength, bouncing Freuler off like a child, and kept running.
He was a runaway train.
Rio watched from the midfield. He realized his mistake. He had scored, yes. But he had also angered the beast.
Noah reached the edge of the box. He didn't shoot. He waited. He waited for Skorupski to set his feet. Then, with a violence that echoed through the stadium, he smashed the ball.
It wasn't a curler. It was a laser beam. The ball hit the crossbar and bounced down across the line.
GOAL.Real Madrid 3 - 1 Bologna.
Three minutes. That's how long Bologna's hope lasted.
Noah didn't celebrate. He picked up the ball from the net and ran it back to the center circle. He placed it down and looked at Rio.
"Do it again," Noah challenged, his eyes cold. "Show me another trick. I have plenty of goals left."
Full Time.Real Madrid 4 - 1 Bologna.
The miracle didn't happen. In the dying minutes, Jude Bellingham added a fourth goal, punishing a tired Bologna defense.
The final whistle blew. Real Madrid 4 - 1 Bologna.
Rio collapsed on the grass. He had played ninety minutes against the best team in the world. He had spent 7 Days of his lifespan (5 for the match + 2 for the skill).
He looked at the scoreboard. A crushing defeat.
But then, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He looked up. It was Luka Modric (the real one, now a coach/mentor for Madrid). The legend smiled down at him.
"That touch," Modric said in English. "In the 65th minute. I haven't seen control like that since Zidane."
Rio blinked, too tired to speak.
"You lost the game," Modric continued. "But you won the respect of this stadium. Listen."
Rio listened. The Madrid fans were applauding the Bologna team off the pitch. It was polite applause. But as Rio stood up, the applause grew slightly louder. They recognized quality.
Rio walked toward the tunnel. Noah Lami was waiting there. The "Perfect Human" had swapped jerseys with no one.
"You survived," Noah said. It wasn't a compliment; it was a statement of fact.
"I scored," Rio replied, holding his aching ribs.
"You scored a circus goal," Noah scoffed. "But you can't win the Champions League with tricks, Glitch. You need dominance."
Noah leaned closer. "See you in Italy. If you survive the group."
Noah walked away.
Rio checked his System.
Match Complete. Result: LOSS. Performance Rating: 7.5 (Highest in Team). Lifespan Remaining: 603 Days.
He had lost days. He had lost the match. But he had learned the truth. The gap between him and Noah Lami wasn't just physical. It was consistency. Rio needed to spend life to do once what Noah did naturally every five minutes.
Rio clenched his fist. The Group of Death had just begun. Next up was Liverpool.