Reincarnated As A Wonderkid-Chapter 544: Life Three.

The economics lecture hall was packed. It was the first day of the new term.

Professor Wealth (a man who wore a gold watch and drove a Bentley) stood at the podium.

"Compound Interest," Professor Wealth said. "Einstein called it the eighth wonder of the world. He who understands it, earns it. He who doesn’t, pays it. It is the snowball effect. Small gains, over time, become massive."

Alex sat in the middle row. He was spinning a pen.

Compound Interest.

He thought about his life.

Life Three.

It had started as a flicker. A second chance.

He was Alex Finch.

Born in London. Raised on the streets and in the academy.

He had started as a kid who knew too much. A ten-year-old with the brain of a veteran striker. He had used the [PLAYER INSIGHT SYSTEM] to cheat physics and predict the future.

He remembered the first trial. The muddy pitch. The doubt.

He remembered meeting Mark. The fastest kid alive, who ran like a cartoon character and ate like a king.

He remembered meeting Rico. The Brazilian magician who danced with the ball and cried when he missed a trick.

He remembered the rise.

The Academy. Breaking records. Nutmegging giants. The Debut. Scoring on his first touch. The roar of the Emirates. The Trophies. The FA Cup. The Premier League. The Champions League.

He remembered the pain. The tackle that broke his leg. The fear that it was all over. The moment he merged with his past selves—Danein Blake and Leon Fischer—to become whole.

He remembered the glory.

The World Cup. The penalty against France. The volley against Argentina.

The Ballon d’Or. Standing on stage in Paris, holding the golden ball, realizing he was the best player on Earth.

He was 20 years old now.

He was the captain of Arsenal. The vice-captain of England. A global superstar.

He had sponsors. He had fans. He had a Wikipedia page longer than the history of some countries.

But sitting here, in a university lecture hall, listening to a man talk about interest rates, he felt... normal.

"Mr. Finch," Professor Wealth asked. "Can you give me an example of compound growth?"

Alex looked up.

"A dynasty, Sir," Alex said. "One trophy leads to confidence. Confidence leads to better players. Better players lead to more trophies. Success breeds success."

"A sporting analogy," the Professor nodded. "Valid."

Mark sat next to Alex. He was wearing a monocle and a top hat (again). He was building a tower out of coins.

"I AM RICH!" Mark whispered loudly. "I HAVE THREE POUNDS AND FIFTY PENCE! I AM INVESTING IN GUMMY BEARS!"

"Mark," Alex whispered. "Please take off the monocle. You are scaring the first-years."

"They are intimidated by my wealth!" Mark argued. "And my speed! I am a fast tycoon!"

The lecture ended.

Alex packed his bag.

Compound interest.

He had built a legacy. But legacies need maintenance.

Tonight was the start of the new Champions League campaign. Arsenal vs Celtic. The Emirates Stadium.

It was the "Battle of Britain". Celtic were tough. They were loud. They played with heart.

Alex walked out to the car park.

Milo was waiting.

Milo was dressed as... a Bagpiper.

He was wearing a kilt (which looked like a towel wrapped around his waist), a sporran (a pencil case), and holding a set of bagpipes made from a vacuum cleaner hose and a balloon.

"SCOTLAND THE BRAVE!" Milo screamed, blowing into the hose. It made a sound like a dying goose. HONK. SQUEAK.

"Milo, please stop," Alex laughed. "My ears are bleeding."

"I AM THE HIGHLANDER!" Milo yelled. "ALEX! I AM SELLING TARTAN SCARVES! THEY ARE JUST STRIPED SOCKS TIED TOGETHER! BUT THEY ARE AUTHENTIC! TEN POUNDS!"

"Milo, get in the car. And take off the kilt."

"NEVER!" Milo shouted. "FREEDOM!"

They drove to the stadium.

Steve, the manager, was waiting.

"Celtic," Steve said. "They run. They fight. They don’t care about your reputation."

He looked at the team.

"They will press you. They will tackle you. They will try to drag you into a brawl."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. You have achieved everything. But can you do it again? Can you compound the interest?"

"I will double the investment," Alex said.

The Emirates Stadium.

The atmosphere was electric. The Celtic fans were noisy. They sang about mountains and rain.

Alex stood in the tunnel.

Callum McGregor, the Celtic captain, stood next to him. He looked like a warrior.

"World Champion," McGregor nodded.

"Captain," Alex replied.

"You think you are special," McGregor said. "But tonight, you are just meat."

"I am expensive meat," Alex smiled. "Wagyu beef."

McGregor laughed. "We will see how you grill."

The whistle blew.

The game started.

It was frantic.

Celtic pressed like maniacs. They ran everywhere.

In the tenth minute, Maeda sprinted down the wing. He was fast.

He crossed.

Kyogo was there.

He volleyed.

Raya saved.

"Wake up!" Rice shouted. "They are hungry!"

Arsenal settled. They started to pass.

Alex controlled the midfield.

He felt the rhythm. It was familiar now. Like a favorite song.

He saw the pitch differently. He saw the geometry. The angles. The probabilities.

He saw Mark making a run.

Alex hit a pass.

It was a "Compound Pass". It curled, then dipped, then spun.

It landed at Mark’s feet.

Mark ran.

He was one on one with Hart.

"INVESTMENT!" Mark screamed.

He chipped the keeper.

Goal.

One zero. Arsenal.

Mark ran to the corner. He pretended to count money.

"I AM RICH IN GOALS!" Mark shouted.

Halftime. One zero.

Steve was happy.

"Keep the ball," Steve said. "Make them chase. Interest accrues over time."

Second half.

Celtic tired. The running caught up with them.

Sixtieth minute.

Alex got the ball.

He saw Rico.

Rico was dancing near the corner flag.

Alex passed.

Rico did a "Reverse Elastico". He nutmegged the defender.

He crossed.

Alex had continued his run.

He was on the edge of the box.

He hit it on the volley.

Goal.

Two zero.

The stadium erupted.

Alex stood there. He looked at the crowd.

He saw the banners. LEGEND. KING. PROFESSOR.

He realized something.

He wasn’t just Alex Finch anymore. He was a symbol.

He was the proof that second chances exist.

He was the proof that if you work hard, and you have good friends (even ones who wear kilts and eat pizza), you can change the world.

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 3. Celtic 0.

Another win. Another step.

Alex walked off the pitch.

He looked at his reflection in the trophy cabinet glass as he walked past.

He saw Danein Blake’s eyes. Tired but proud. He saw Leon Fischer’s smile. Young and hopeful. He saw Alex Finch’s determination. Strong and ready.

He was all of them.

Mark jumped on his back.

"Hey Professor," Mark said.

"Yeah?"

"I calculated the interest."

"You did?"

"Yes," Mark grinned. "If we win every game, we get infinite pizza."

"That is not how economics works, Mark."

"It is how my economics works!" Mark shouted.

Alex laughed.

He looked at the future.

It was unwritten.

But he had the pen.

And he had the team.

"Class dismissed," Alex whispered.

But the university of life was open 24/7.

And Alex Finch was just getting started on his PhD.