Liverpool. Anfield Road.Champions League Group Stage - Matchday 2.Minute 76.Liverpool 1 - 1 Bologna.
The silence didn't last.
It lasted exactly four seconds—the time it took for the ball to drop from the net to the grass. Then, the Kop—the famous stand behind the goal—woke up. It wasn't a cheer; it was a growl. A deep, guttural sound of defiance that vibrated through the stadium's foundations.
ALLEZ, ALLEZ, ALLEZ!
The chant started low and built into a tsunami. Rio Valdes stood in the center circle, waiting for the restart. He looked at the Liverpool players. They weren't defeated. They were furious.
Mohamed Salah picked up the ball and sprinted back to the center spot. Virgil van Dijk was clapping his hands, screaming orders that were lost in the noise. Darwin Núñez, the agent of chaos, was subbed on to add more firepower.
The referee blew the whistle.
Minute 82.The Trench Warfare.
Rio wasn't a striker anymore. He was a frantic defender. Bologna had collapsed into a "Low Block"—a defensive formation where all eleven players camped inside their own penalty box.
It was a siege. Liverpool poured forward like a red tide. Andrew Robertson crossed from the left, only for Sam Beukema to head it clear. Trent Alexander-Arnold whipped a ball in from the right, but Jhon Lucumi met it first. Dominik Szoboszlai shot from distance, the ball thudding painfully against Remo Freuler's ribs.
Rio was standing on the edge of his own box, gasping for air. His lungs burned. Every time he tried to step out, Liverpool recycled the ball and attacked again. There was no outlet. There was no escape.
"Hold the line!" Skorupski screamed, punching a corner kick away.
The ball fell to Alexis Mac Allister at the edge of the area. He volleyed it instantly. The ball screamed through a forest of legs, destined for the bottom corner.
Rio didn't think. He threw his body in the way.
THWACK.
The ball slammed into his thigh. The impact was heavy enough to leave a bruise instantly. Rio stumbled, but he didn't fall. He hacked the ball clear into the stands, buying his team a few seconds of relief.
A holographic warning flashed in his vision: Physical Integrity at 65%. Fatigue Level: High.
Rio looked at the clock. Eight minutes left. It felt like eight years.
Minute 88.The Monster in the Air.
Liverpool won another corner. Their twelfth of the game. The Anfield crowd was stomping their feet, creating a rhythmic earthquake.
Trent Alexander-Arnold placed the ball. He raised two arms. In the box, Virgil van Dijk and Ibrahima Konaté towered over the Bologna defenders. It was a mismatch of giants versus men.
The cross came in. It was perfect. An out-swinging ball that drifted away from the keeper.
Van Dijk jumped. He didn't just jump; he levitated. He rose a full head and shoulders above Beukema.
CRACK.
The header was powerful. It flew toward the bottom corner. Skorupski was beaten. He stood rooted to the spot.
But on the goal line, a figure was standing by the post. Stefan Posch.
The Bologna defender didn't use his feet. He threw his head at the ball.
Bonk.
Posch headed the ball off the line. A miraculous goal-line clearance. The ball spun out to Salah. Salah smashed it on the rebound, but the angle was too tight. It hit the side netting.
The stadium groaned. Fifty thousand people put their hands on their heads in disbelief. Rio collapsed to his knees for a second, catching his breath. They were surviving by millimeters.
Minute 90+4.The Dark Arts.
The Fourth Official raised the board. 5 Minutes Added Time.
Bologna just needed to kill three hundred seconds.
Rio received a desperate clearance near the corner flag in Liverpool's half. He was isolated. Ibrahima Konaté was charging at him like a freight train. Rio didn't try to score. He didn't try to pass. He ran straight to the corner flag.
He put his body between the ball and the defender. He used his [Balance: Grade A] to shield the ball. Konaté kicked Rio's ankles. Kick. Kick.
Rio didn't react. He kept his low center of gravity. Konaté, frustrated by the stalling tactic, shoved Rio in the back.
Rio felt the shove. He could have stayed up. But he remembered the "Dark Arts" taught by Italian football. He let his legs go limp. He fell.
PEEP!
The referee blew the whistle. Foul to Bologna.
Rio stayed on the ground, "nursing" his injury. He wasted thirty precious seconds. The Liverpool fans booed. They called him a cheat. They threw plastic cups.
Rio didn't care. In the Champions League, you don't play for honor. You play for points.
Full Time.Liverpool 1 - 1 Bologna.
The final whistle was the sweetest sound Rio had ever heard. He didn't celebrate. He just rolled onto his back and stared at the Anfield floodlights. They had done it. They had walked into the Lion's Den and stolen a piece of meat.
Match Complete. Result: DRAW. Performance Rating: 8.0 (Man of the Match). Lifespan Remaining: 598 Days.
He had spent 7 days—five for the match and two for the skill—to earn just one point. Was it worth it?
Rio looked at the away fans. The 3,000 Bologna supporters were crying, singing his name. Yes. It was worth it.
A shadow fell over him. Rio looked up. Virgil van Dijk was standing there. The giant Dutchman wasn't smiling, but he wasn't angry anymore. He looked... impressed.
"Get up," Van Dijk said, extending a hand.
Rio took it. Van Dijk pulled him up effortlessly.
"That turn in the first half," Van Dijk said, his voice deep. "And that goal. You are a nuisance."
"Coming from the best defender in the world, I'll take that as a compliment," Rio replied, holding his ribs.
Van Dijk took off his jersey. The famous Red Number 4. He handed it to Rio. "You survived Anfield. Not many do. Keep this."
Rio took the jersey. It was heavy with sweat and history. He handed Van Dijk his Number 10. "See you in Italy," Rio said.
"In Italy," Van Dijk warned, "I won't let you turn."
The Locker Room.Post-Match.
The atmosphere was euphoric. A draw at Anfield felt like a victory. Champagne was popped (non-alcoholic for Rio). Tyler Stone came in, high-fiving everyone. "Great for the brand! Global trending topic: #RioTheMagician."
Adrian sat in the corner, looking at his laptop. He didn't look happy.
Rio walked over. "What's wrong? We got a point."
"We did," Adrian said, turning the screen toward Rio. "But look at the other game in our group."
Bayer Leverkusen vs Real Madrid.Result: 3 - 3.
"A draw?" Rio asked. "That's good for us, right?"
"Look at the goalscorers," Adrian pointed.
The screen detailed the goals for Real Madrid. Noah Lami had scored in the 12th minute. Then again in the 44th minute. And finally, a last-minute equalizer in the 89th minute.
Rio froze. A hat-trick. Against the German champions.
While Rio was fighting for his life to get one goal at Anfield, Noah Lami had casually destroyed Leverkusen with three.
"He is accelerating," Adrian whispered. "His growth rate... it's exponential. He isn't just winning games; he is farming them."
Rio looked at the stats. Rio Valdes: 1 Goal, 0 Assists. Noah Lami: 5 Goals, 0 Assists (in 2 games).
The gap wasn't closing. It was widening.
The System flashed a new notification that chilled Rio to the bone.
Rival Update: The Perfect Human has evolved. Noah Lami has unlocked: "The Zone". Rio Valdes needs to upgrade to stay competitive.
Rio clenched Van Dijk's jersey in his hand. He had survived Anfield. But survival wasn't enough. To beat Noah, he needed to stop surviving and start dominating.