Stadio Renato Dall'Ara.Champions League Group Stage - Matchday 4.Bologna vs Real Madrid.Minute 55.Score: 1 - 1.
The second half began as a stalemate, but the tension was suffocating. The air inside the Dall'Ara felt heavy, charged with the electricity of a storm about to break.
Real Madrid, stung by Rio's opener and emboldened by Noah's equalizer, pushed their defensive line high. They squeezed the pitch, making it small. Bologna was trapped in their own half.
Rio Valdes tried to dictate the tempo, but his legs felt heavy. The [Mirage Strike] mutation had taken a toll on his body deeper than just stamina. His joints ached with a dull, throbbing pain.
A system warning flickered in his peripheral vision, indicating his Host Fatigue Level was at 78% and the Risk of Injury was Moderate.
"Focus," Rio whispered to himself.
But chaos struck in a heartbeat.
Real Madrid recycled possession. Jude Bellingham picked up the ball in midfield. He saw Noah Lami pointing to a gap between the center-backs. It was a tiny gap, barely a meter wide. Bellingham played the pass. It was a surgeon's scalpel, slicing through the defense.
Noah accelerated. His 99 Pace was terrifying. He blew past Beukema like the defender was standing still. He was through on goal. Jhon Lucumi, the last defender, panicked. He knew he couldn't catch Noah. He knew if Noah shot, it was a goal.
Lucumi made a split-second decision. He threw himself at Noah's legs. It wasn't a tackle for the ball. It was a tackle to stop the man.
CRASH.
Noah tumbled to the ground just outside the penalty box. The crowd gasped. The referee blew his whistle. He didn't hesitate. He reached into his back pocket.
RED CARD.
Jhon Lucumi put his hands on his head. He didn't argue. He walked off the pitch, head bowed. He had sacrificed himself to prevent a certain goal, but the cost was astronomical.
Bologna was down to 10 men. Thirty-five minutes remaining against the Kings of Europe.
Minute 60.The Tactical Suicide.
The game stopped while Bologna reorganized. Coach Italiano looked pale. He had to sacrifice an attacker.
"Orsolini, come off!" he shouted.
He brought on Nicolo Casale, a center-back, to plug the hole in defense. Bologna switched to a 5-3-1 formation. Five defenders. Three midfielders. And Rio Valdes alone up top. Rio was no longer a playmaker. He was an island.
Noah Lami stood over the free kick. He looked at Rio, who was standing in the wall.
"10 men," Noah said, his voice loud enough for Rio to hear. "The probability of you winning is now 2.4%."
"Never tell me the odds," Rio replied, wiping sweat from his eyes.
Noah took the free kick. He smashed it. The ball hit the wall—specifically, it hit Rio's chest. THUD. Rio staggered but didn't fall. He cleared the ball. The siege began.
Minute 75.The Ghost in the Machine.
For fifteen minutes, Bologna didn't touch the ball. Real Madrid passed it around the box, waiting for an opening. Vinicius. Rodrygo (subbed on). Bellingham. Noah. They were sharks circling a bleeding whale.
Rio was running on fumes. He was chasing shadows, trying to cut passing lanes. His Lifespan stood at 536 Days. He hadn't used any skills in the second half. He was saving them. But for what? He rarely saw the ball.
Then, a mistake. Aurélien Tchouaméni tried a lazy lateral pass. Rio saw it. His [Ghost] passive skill allowed him to drift into the midfielder's blind spot. Rio exploded. He intercepted the pass.
He was sixty meters from goal. He was alone. Three Real Madrid defenders—Militão, Rüdiger, and Mendy—were sprinting back. Noah Lami was also sprinting back, hunting him down.
"Go, Rio!" the crowd screamed. It was a primal roar of desperation.
Rio ran. His legs burned. The lactic acid was screaming at him to stop. Rüdiger was closing in from the right. Mendy from the left. Rio reached the edge of the box. He had no support. Casale and the others were too tired to join the counter-attack.
It was 1 vs 4. Logic dictated he should hold the ball, wait for a foul, or shoot from distance. But Rio knew logic wouldn't beat Noah. Noah understood logic. Noah predicted logic.
Rio slowed down. Rüdiger caught up. He didn't tackle immediately; he was wary of [The Mirage Strike]. He remembered the first goal. He kept his distance, blocking the shooting angle.
Rio looked at the goal. He shaped his body. He planted his left foot. He snapped his hip. It was the exact same motion as the first goal.
Rüdiger flinched. He turned his body to block the shot. Courtois tensed, ready to dive to the bottom corner. Even Noah, sprinting from behind, thought: He's shooting.
Skill Active: The Mirage Strike (Cancelled).
Rio didn't shoot. At the moment of impact, he relaxed his ankle. Instead of striking through the ball, he dragged his foot over it. A Drag-Back.
Rüdiger slid past him, blocking empty air. Rio spun 180 degrees. He was now facing away from the goal, but he had space. Noah Lami arrived on the scene, crashing into Rio's back. Rio used the impact to propel himself forward, spinning off Noah.
Now, he was facing the goal again. Twelve meters out. Courtois was scrambling to reset his feet. Rio didn't use power. He didn't use a skill. He saw a tiny gap between Courtois's legs. He poked the ball. A toe-poke. Ugly. Simple.
The ball rolled. It hit Courtois's heel. It deflected. It spun slowly... agonizingly slowly... across the line.
GOAL.Bologna 2 - 1 Real Madrid.
Minute 90+6.The Longest Minute.
The stadium was shaking so hard that dust was falling from the rafters. Rio was lying on the ground in the opponent's box. He couldn't stand up. He had nothing left. His teammates were celebrating, but the game wasn't over. The referee added 6 Minutes of stoppage time.
Real Madrid went all out. Even Courtois came up for a corner kick. The ball was whipped in. Noah Lami rose. He won the header. The ball flew toward the top corner. Skorupski flew. He touched it with his fingernails. The ball hit the crossbar.
CLANG.
The rebound fell to Bellingham. He shot. Nicolo Casale threw his body in front of the ball. A suicide block. The ball deflected wide.
PEEP! PEEP! PEEP!
The final whistle blew. The miracle of Dall'Ara was complete. Bologna, with 10 men, had beaten Real Madrid.
The Handshake.
Rio lay on the grass, staring at the night sky. He felt like he had aged ten years in ninety minutes. The system flashed the match results: Match Complete. Result: WIN. Performance Rating: 9.5 (Legendary). Lifespan Remaining: 536 Days.
A hand appeared in his vision. Rio looked up. It was Noah Lami. The 19-year-old didn't look angry. He looked... disturbed. Like a scientist whose experiment had produced an impossible result.
"I calculated the probability," Noah said, pulling Rio up. "When you wound up your leg, there was a 99% chance of a shot. The biomechanics were identical to your first goal. Why did you cancel it?"
Rio steadied himself on his trembling legs. "Because I knew you calculated it," Rio said. "You play with data, Noah. You predict the optimal move. So I chose the sub-optimal move."
Noah stared at Rio for a long moment.
"Inefficiency," Noah muttered. "The human variable. I underestimated it." Noah leaned in close. The aura of the 'Perfect Human' flared up, cold and intimidating. "This group isn't over. We are tied on points now. I will see you in the knockout stages. And next time... I will account for your inefficiency."
Noah walked away without exchanging jerseys.
Bologna Locker Room.Post-Match.
The celebration was wild. Pizza boxes were everywhere. Rio sat quietly, checking the Group F standings.
The table was absolute madness. Real Madrid, Bologna, and Liverpool all sat on 7 Points. Real Madrid led on Goal Difference (+3), followed by Liverpool (+2), and then Bologna (+1). Leverkusen was virtually eliminated with 1 point.
Only two games left. Matchday 5: Bologna vs Liverpool (Home). Matchday 6: Bologna vs Leverkusen (Away).
Adrian sat next to Rio. "You realized what you just did, right?" Adrian asked, his eyes wide.
"I won the game," Rio mumbled.
"No," Adrian shook his head. "You broke the meta. Noah Lami is the 'Perfect Human'. He represents the future of football—stats, AI, physical perfection. Tonight, you beat the future with the past. With a street feint and a toe-poke."
Rio smiled weakly. "The past is expensive, Adrian. My body feels like it's falling apart."
A red notification pulsed in his mind. Warning: Mutation Strain Detected. The Mirage Strike puts excessive torque on the hip joints. Recommendation: Do not use for 7 days. Risk of permanent damage: High.
Rio closed the notification. Seven days? He had a Serie A game in three days. And Liverpool in two weeks. He couldn't rest. The contract didn't allow rest.
"We survive," Rio whispered. "That's what we do."