Reincarnated As A Wonderkid-Chapter 513: Dancing on the table

Mark was sitting next to Alex. Mark was wearing a full ghost costume. It was a white bedsheet with two holes cut for eyes.

"I AM THE GHOST OF MADRID PAST!" Mark shouted from under the sheet. "WOOOOO!"

"Mark," Mr. Curtain sighed. "We are doing Greek Tragedy, not Scooby Doo."

"But I am terrifying!" Mark insisted. "I am the phantom of speed! I will haunt their defenders!"

"You look like a laundry basket," Alex whispered.

"A fast laundry basket," Mark corrected. "The scariest kind."

The bell rang.

Alex packed his bag.

The Climax.

It was tonight.

Champions League. Semi Final. Second Leg.

Arsenal vs Real Madrid.

The Emirates Stadium.

They had won in Spain. But Madrid were the zombies of football. They never stayed dead. They always came back.

Alex walked out to the car park.

Milo was waiting.

Milo was dressed as... a Bouncer.

He was wearing a black suit that was too big for him, dark sunglasses, and an earpiece made of a curly straw. He stood in front of the car with his arms crossed.

"NAME?" Milo grunted.

"Milo, it is me. Alex," Alex said.

"NOT ON THE LIST!" Milo shouted. "ACCESS DENIED! THE CLUB IS FULL!"

"Milo, we need to go to the stadium."

Milo lowered his sunglasses.

"ALEX!" Milo smiled. "I AM THE GATEKEEPER! I AM SELLING KEYS TO THE FINAL! THEY ARE JUST OLD KEYS I FOUND IN A DRAWER! BUT THEY ARE SYMBOLIC! FIFTY POUNDS A KEY!"

"Get in the car, Gatekeeper," Alex laughed.

They drove to the Emirates.

The streets were red. Thousands of fans were singing. The bus had to drive slowly through the sea of people.

Steve, the manager, was waiting in the dressing room.

"Listen," Steve said. "They are hurt. They are angry. They will not play nice today."

He looked at the whiteboard. It showed the aggregate score. Arsenal 2. Real Madrid 1.

"They need to score," Steve said. "They will throw everything at us. Vinicius. Mbappe. Rodrygo. They will attack like a pack of wolves."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. Keep the ball. If we have the ball, they cannot bite."

"Possession is defense," Alex nodded.

The Emirates Stadium.

The lights were dazzling. The Champions League anthem played.

Alex stood in the tunnel.

Jude Bellingham stood next to him. The Madrid star. He looked determined.

"Nice lead," Jude said. "Shame it will not last."

"We built a wall," Alex said.

"We brought a wrecking ball," Jude replied.

The whistle blew.

The game started.

It was a siege.

Real Madrid did not care about defense. They attacked with five players. They pushed Arsenal back into their own box.

In the tenth minute, Vinicius dribbled past Ben White. He crossed.

Mbappe volleyed.

Raya saved.

In the twentieth minute, Rodrygo hit the post.

The Emirates was nervous. You could feel the anxiety.

"They are too strong!" Rico yelled. "They are pushing us into the river!"

Alex tried to calm the game down. But Madrid were relentless.

Thirty fifth minute.

Bellingham got the ball. He drove through the midfield. He was a tank.

He passed to Mbappe.

Mbappe did a backheel flick.

Bellingham continued his run. He got the ball back.

He smashed it into the roof of the net.

Goal.

Zero one. Real Madrid.

Aggregate score: 2 to 2.

The Madrid fans went wild. The Arsenal fans went silent.

"Reset!" Alex shouted. "We are still level! Do not panic!"

But Arsenal were panicking. They lost the ball. They made mistakes.

Halftime. Zero one.

The dressing room was silent.

"You are scared," Steve said. "I can smell it. You are waiting to lose."

He looked at Mark.

"Speed. You are hiding. Get on the ball."

"They are fast too!" Mark complained. "Mendy is fast! Walker is fast! Everyone is fast!"

"You are faster," Steve said.

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. We need a plot twist. Write one."

Second half.

The game was tight. Tension was high.

If it stayed like this, it would go to extra time. Nobody wanted extra time against Madrid.

Sixty fifth minute.

Arsenal won a free kick.

It was on the edge of the box. Dangerous position.

Alex stood over the ball.

Rico stood over the ball.

"I take it," Rico said. "I curl it."

"No," Alex said. "The wall is too tall. Rudiger is a giant."

"I go under," Rico suggested.

"They have a draft excluder," Alex pointed out. A Madrid player was lying on the ground behind the wall.

They needed a trick.

Alex looked at Rico. He whispered a plan.

Rico smiled. "You are crazy. I love it."

The referee blew the whistle.

Alex and Rico started to argue.

"It is mine!" Alex shouted, pushing Rico.

"No! My ball!" Rico shouted back, pushing Alex.

The Madrid defenders relaxed. They watched the argument. They thought the Arsenal players were losing their minds.

Courtois, the goalkeeper, stepped slightly to his left to see what was happening.

Suddenly, the argument stopped.

Rico didn’t shoot. He didn’t pass.

He tapped the ball sideways. Just two yards.

Alex ran onto it.

The wall was static. They were still watching the fake fight.

Alex didn’t shoot at the goal.

He shot at the gap the wall was supposed to cover.

The ball flew low and hard.

It went exactly where Courtois had been standing two seconds ago. But Courtois had moved to watch the fight.

He dived back.

Too late.

The ball nestled in the bottom corner.

GOAL.

One one. (3 to 2 Aggregate).

The Emirates exploded.

Alex ran to Rico. They high fived.

"ACTING CLASS!" Alex shouted.

"OSCAR WINNER!" Rico laughed. "I AM THE BEST ACTOR!"

Real Madrid were furious. They surrounded the referee. "They tricked us!"

"It is legal," the referee shrugged. "Play on."

Now Madrid needed another goal just to survive.

They poured forward.

Seventy fifth minute.

Eighty fifth minute.

It was a bombardment. Arsenal were defending with their lives.

Saliba cleared off the line. Gabriel blocked a shot with his face.

"Hold the door!" Mark yelled. "Do not let the ghosts in!"

Ninetieth minute.

Five minutes of injury time.

Madrid had a corner.

Courtois came up. Every Madrid player was in the box.

The ball came in.

Raya caught it.

He looked up.

The Madrid goal was empty.

Mark was on the halfway line.

Raya kicked it long.

Mark ran.

Camavinga ran.

It was a foot race for the final.

Mark was tired. But he saw the empty net.

"PIZZA!" Mark screamed. "THE GOAL IS A GIANT PIZZA!"

He found an extra gear.

He beat Camavinga to the ball.

He ran the ball all the way to the goal line.

He stopped.

He looked at the crowd.

He gently poked the ball over the line.

Goal.

Two one. (4 to 2 Aggregate).

Game over.

The whistle blew immediately.

Arsenal were in the Final.

Alex collapsed on the grass. The noise was deafening. Fireworks went off.

Jude Bellingham walked over. He looked devastated.

"The fake fight," Jude shook his head. "You got us."

"We improvised," Alex smiled, shaking his hand. "Good game."

Milo ran onto the pitch. He was wearing a tuxedo made of red duct tape.

"THE DIRECTOR!" Milo screamed. "CUT! PRINT! THAT IS A WRAP! ALEX! I AM SELLING THE MOVIE RIGHTS! WE ARE GOING TO HOLLYWOOD! OR AT LEAST TO WEMBLEY!"

"We are going to the Final," Alex laughed.

"SAME THING!" Milo yelled.

They walked a lap of honor.

The fans threw scarves and shirts.

Alex looked at the scoreboard.

Arsenal 2 - 1 Real Madrid.

They had beaten the Kings. Twice.

Mark was wearing the corner flag as a cape.

"Professor!" Mark shouted. "We did it! The ghost scared them!" 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

"The ghost was fast today," Alex said.

They walked into the dressing room.

It was a party. Champagne was spraying (non-alcoholic for the younger players).

Alex sat in his corner. He checked his phone.

A text from Maya.

"Psychological warfare analysis: Brilliant. The cognitive dissonance created by the fake argument lowered their reaction time by 0.4 seconds. That was the window you needed. Also, Mr. Curtain wants to know if you can write a play for the school drama festival."

Alex laughed.

"Maybe next year," he typed.

He looked at his teammates.

Rico was dancing on the table. Saliba was singing.

They were a team of kids, rejects, and dreamers.

And they were going to the biggest game in club football.

The Champions League Final.

Against who?

He checked the other result.

Barcelona had beaten Bayern Munich.