My Football Legends Chat Group-Chapter 57: Pay the price tomorrow

’This is it!’ Illan Meslier felt the ball was hit with venom, but he had the angle covered. An imperceptible grin formed on the French goalkeeper’s face as he calculated the timing and trajectory of the ball.

"Got you."

SWOOOSH

Meslier’s face turned from grinning to complete and utter shock as his gloves swiped at empty air. The ball, which looked destined for the center of the goal, suddenly dipped violently right before reaching the six-yard box.

SMACK

Archie Gray, who had braced himself for a rebound, suddenly saw the ball nestled in the back of the net like magic. He almost couldn’t believe what had just happened, even though it took place right in front of his eyes.

"Was that... a knuckleball?" He muttered, catching the winger’s attention.

"What? I didn’t tell you I added that to my locker?" Rio turned his head and asked, his tone sounding calm, almost bored.

Archie shook his head. "This is the first time I’ve seen you hit a dead ball like that. I didn’t even know you had the technique." He admitted.

Meslier let out a sigh of disappointment, picking himself up from the turf. However, a smile appeared shortly after. He walked over to Rio, who was standing on the edge of the D, and held out his gloved hand.

"I completely lost. That was a brilliant strike. Don’t do that to me again, Rio."

Rio felt a wave of accomplishment after managing to beat the team’s number one keeper so cleanly. This was the first time that he had unleashed the full power of his S-Grade Shooting on a live target, so he knew it was a gamble, however, it had paid off.

"Thanks, Illan. Just testing the range." He grasped the glove of Meslier and smiled with satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Gnonto was standing near the corner flag with a stifled expression on his face.

’Why is everyone praising him!?’ he screamed internally, jealousy flowing through his veins.

Manager Farke felt as if his mind was going to explode. Just where had this power come from?

’That dip would have fooled even Ederson.’ He thought inwardly, directing his attention back to the velocity tablet in Rob’s hands.

"145km/h... Even his swerve has power."

"HAHAHA, the kid’s got dynamite in his boots! Unlucky, Illan!" Luke Ayling slapped Meslier on the back on his way to the drinks cart, his laugh echoing across Thorp Arch.

Meslier winced, however, he seemed used enough to the banter from the veteran right-back.

Everyone in the recovery group seemed abuzz with excitement after seeing such a weapon revealed right before the Hull game. Everyone except for one who had turned four shades of red by now.

’How can that bastard be so good? He was a benchwarmer a month ago.’ Djed Spence ground his teeth, feeling his face heat up as his status was threatened.

"F-Fluke! It has to be a fluke!"

He had never seen a winger hit a ball like that, even at Tottenham. So his brain moved to the only logical explanation that he could think of, or in this case, illogical explanation.

"Pffft."

"Yeah right, mate."

A few muffled laughs and even obscenities were thrown at Spence after his outburst, causing him to grow even redder in the face.

Meslier, who had just arrived at the drinks station, turned his attention to Spence, his eyes narrowing.

"You better sort your attitude out, Djed. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself back in London watching us on TV."

After saying so, Meslier ignored him and went to grab a water bottle.

It was rather apparent that the team only tolerated Spence because of his pace, not because they liked him as a person.

Since he sucked up to the Premier League loanees and trashed anyone who was "Championship level," they had quite an unfavorable opinion of him. So much so that they felt a huge sense of relief after finding out that there was now an even better wide player on the team.

’I-Impossible...’ Spence kicked the turf, feeling his hierarchy crumble around him.

Meanwhile, on the pitch, Piroe had a giant grin on his face as he stared down at Rio. His whole body was screaming that he wanted to see more.

"Wait, you two." Manager Farke stepped onto the pitch with his hands in the air, stopping the session.

"Rio, step away from the ball. I’m ending the drill."

"WHAT!? B-Boss, what do you mean?"

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Rio who reacted so strongly, but Archie Gray. He had just started enjoying the show and was ready to see if Rio could do it from 30 yards.

"There’s no point in Rio continuing to shoot. Meslier here doesn’t have the capability of saving them right now, and I don’t want to break his confidence before Hull."

"Huh?" Archie turned around to look at Meslier, who instantly felt a mix of relief and insult from the manager’s words.

"Tch, so he noticed." Rio murmured.

He had thought that Meslier might have been good enough to save at least one, considering he was a Premier League caliber keeper.

’If De Gea can save fastballs, why can’t Illan?’ he thought, making his way off the D.

"Fortunately, we have seen enough. Piroe, you take the penalties." The coach called out, eliciting a nervous cheer in response.

He then walked back to the sideline with Rio, leaving the disappointed Archie on the pitch, his entertainment now flushed down the drain.

Farke placed his arm around Rio’s shoulder and pulled him closer, a smile planted on his face.

"Why didn’t you tell me you could shoot so fast? Man, your father must have been feeding you gunpowder since you left the womb." His tone was merry, understandably.

Rio tilted his head in confusion, "How fast was I shooting?" he asked.

"What? You don’t know?"

This time it was the Manager’s turn to be confused.

Rio shook his head. "No, in truth I stopped shooting power shots all of last month because I felt too lightweight."

Farke’s jaw dropped, almost dislocating thanks to the shock that came with Rio’s words.

"A-Ah don’t worry, I’m all good now. My dad cooked me a lot of protein and I hit the gym." Rio panicked, thinking that the Manager might look at benching him for being reckless.

Farke blinked a few times, seeing the unfamiliar shyness of his new star. He struggled to understand it at first, however, his managerial aptitude worked in the background to bring him to the right conclusion.

’He thinks he did something wrong?’

Seeing the worry in Rio’s face, Farke resisted the urge to laugh. He had been keeping a close eye on Rio’s development, but he didn’t realize the kid was this humble about turning into a tank.

"No..." Farke clenched his fists, a wave of excitement washing over him.

"I’m not mad. I’m ecstatic. If you can hit the ball like that consistently, we don’t just have a winger. We have a cheat code."

Rio looked puzzled, but a smile soon appeared on his face.

"I... I want to take the free-kicks tomorrow against Hull. I’ll score, Boss. I promise." Rio said resolutely.

A few hours later, Rio was lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling. Since everything was now out in the open regarding his role in the team, he felt relieved, like a pressure had been taken off his chest.

He could tell how much the squad respected him just by their reactions. Another byproduct of his display was that Farke no longer seemed to view him as a "project player," but as a key asset.

He had also earned himself an early night. This timing was brilliant as the Hull City match was an early kickoff tomorrow, meaning he needed maximum rest.

Rio breathed out a sigh of relief.

’I need to stop hiding my abilities. It seems to do more harm than good in the long run,’ He thought inwardly.

He didn’t really feel like entering the Image Training tonight, especially since it had been a long enough day. With his S-Grade Shooting confirmed and his hierarchy established, it was a good time to let his body and mind rest.

He felt a little energetic, probably from the Titan’s Core residue. With that, Rio closed his eyes and drifted into dreamland.

Despite being in a good mood before bed, his dreams were filled with intensity. It was as if he was playing the match against Hull already.

He saw Djed Spence drifting away after being sold to a Turkish club. Archie Gray, whose face seemed to lack the baby fat that Rio was used to, appeared in front of him like a veteran captain.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? I thought we were a duo."

Wearing a Manchester United kit, an older-looking Archie questioned him with a vacant expression. Rio wanted to answer, but every time he opened his mouth, a golden trophy appeared in his hands, weighing him down.

"Why!? Why would you reject Real Madrid? You should have told us you wanted to be a Galactico!"

Jorge Mendes’s voice entered his ears, causing him to spin around in fright. There he saw the super-agent throwing a contract onto the ground in grief.

Rio then locked eyes with the Champions League trophy.

’W-What is happening?’ Rio was confused, but also excited. Hot anticipation ran down his face as his mind tried to make sense of what was transpiring.

DING.

Rio suddenly sat up from the bed, his body covered in sweat and his lungs sucking in air like he had just sprinted the length of the pitch. His first thought was to look around the room to try and see where he was.

’My room...’

After seeing the familiar Leeds scarf on the wall, Rio finally managed to calm down. The dream he had experienced felt far too real, causing him to believe that he had been transported to the future.

Just as he was about to check his System, Leo opened the door to his room.

"Rio!? What’s wrong?"

Seeing his pale and sweaty visage, Leo rushed over to check on him, concern etched onto his features. He placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You’re shaking, hermano." His face turned worried.

Rio let out a sigh. It was true that he wasn’t feeling calm, however, he didn’t like the idea of worrying his brother before the big game.

Just as he was about to get out of bed he heard a deep voice.

"And where do you think you’re going?"

Carlos was leaning against the door with his arms crossed, tapping his fingers while staring at him.

"Ah, I just needed some water." He replied weakly.

Thankfully he had been quick enough to answer that his father did not call him out.

"Drink this," Carlos threw a sports drink. Rio caught it with his left hand—fast, precise. "Electrolytes. You need them for tomorrow."

Rio opened the bottle. "Thanks, Dad."

"I saw the video," Carlos said, his eyes gleaming in the dark.

"Video?"

"Someone filmed your goal in training. It’s all over Twitter. They are calling it ’The Leeds Missile’."

Rio grinned. "Good. Let Hull see it. Let them be scared."

"Go to sleep," Carlos said, turning to leave. "Tomorrow, you don’t just play. You dominate."

Both Leo and Rio watched as Carlos left the room. Once she was sure that he had left, Leo turned around and gave him a sympathetic look.

"Did you need anything, Rio? How about some late-night toast?"

Rio forced down a laugh before shaking his head, thanking God that he had been given such a supportive family.

"No thanks, Leo. I’m full."

Full of confidence.

[Chat Room Active]

The_King: You are dreaming of trophies. Good. But dreams are cheap. Goals are expensive. Pay the price tomorrow.

Zizou_5: And wear the collar up. I insist.