The roar of the stadium rolled across the night like a living thing.
Floodlights shimmered above the pitch, cutting through the fog that had drifted in from the Lombard plains. Flags waved. Voices echoed. It was the final match of the Serie D season — the title decider.
Virtus Lombardia vs. Mantova Calcio.
The same team that had once crushed them early in the season… and the same team they'd beaten in Chapter 36, sparking a climb that no one believed possible.
Now both stood equal on points.
Whoever won tonight — would be crowned champion.
---
The Calm Before the Whistle
Inside the tunnel, the air was tense. Boots scraped against the concrete floor.
Jaeven Moretti Han stood still, head lowered, his heart steady but his mind sharp.
He could feel the pulse of the crowd through the walls — their chants, their belief, their fear.
Beside him, Cattaneo cracked a grin. "Déjà vu, eh?"
Jaeven's lips curved faintly. "This time, we finish it."
The whistle from the referee echoed down the tunnel.
Players lined up, the captains shook hands, and the teams stepped out onto the field.
The chant hit them like a wave:
> "VIRTUS! VIRTUS! VIRTUS!"
Coach Rossi stood on the sideline, arms folded. His eyes found Jaeven immediately.
> "Play your football."
That was all he said.
---
Kickoff – Mantova's Revenge
From the start, Mantova came with fury.
Their passes were crisp, their press organized, their intensity suffocating. It wasn't the same Mantova from before. This was a team that had learned.
Virtus tried to build from the back, but every touch was hunted.
By the twelfth minute — disaster struck.
A through ball split the defense. Mantova's striker chipped De Luca.
0–1.
The Virtus fans fell silent.
Rossi clapped from the sideline, voice sharp.
"Head up! No fear!"
But Mantova smelled blood.
By the twenty-third minute, another goal — a rebound smashed in from close range.
0–2.
And before halftime, a corner flicked on at the near post made it three.
0–3.
The stadium felt heavy, suffocating.
Virtus players looked stunned. Mantova's bench was already celebrating. Their captain Ferri raised his fists to the crowd, shouting over the noise.
Jaeven stood still near the halfway line, staring at the scoreboard.
> 0–3
82:00
He clenched his fists slowly.
The dream — the entire season — was slipping.
---
The Breaking Point
Inside his mind, the System flickered to life, quiet and blue in the edge of his vision.
> [Warning: Team morale critical.]
[Objective: Win the Championship Match.]
[Possible reward: Legendary Pack ×1 | Superstar Pack ×2]
[Note: Optional Enhancement Card detected in inventory – Neymar (Phase Card)]
Jaeven's eyes widened slightly.
He had held onto that card for weeks.
Never used it — never even tested what it could do.
Now, he was out of time.
> "Activate Neymar Phase Card," he whispered under his breath.
The crowd roared — not for him, but for another Mantova attack — and yet his voice reached where it needed to.
The system's tone deepened.
> [Neymar Phase Card Activated.]
[Integration detected: Player previously used identical phase type.]
[Hidden Function Unlocked — Integration Mode.]
[Player attributes will temporarily synchronize with Phase Card model.]
[Warning: Integration duration — 10 minutes real-time.]
A soft pulse of energy rippled through him.
His heartbeat steadied.
His breathing slowed.
And for a moment — it felt as if the world had expanded.
Every blade of grass shimmered clearer.
Every sound sharpened.
Every opponent's step became visible before it happened.
---
Integration: Neymar Mode
The system interface flickered again.
Attribute Score Grade Notes
Pace 83 S– Lightning bursts and deceptive acceleration
Dribbling 90 S+ Fluid control, near-perfect manipulation
Agility 88 S Body feints, rhythm breaks, instant turns
Shooting 78 A Precision in movement and timing
Passing 74 A– Weighted assists and disguised through balls
Stamina 70 B+ Sustains intensity for 10 minutes
Mentality 75 A Creative fearlessness
Technique 89 S+ Artistic flair, unpredictability
Charm 70 B+ Magnetism on and off the pitch
> [Integration Library Unlocked.]
[Recorded Integration: Neymar (Phase – Technical Genius).]
The light faded.
When Jaeven lifted his head, the field felt alive.
---
80:00 — The Flicker of Hope
Virtus restarted from midfield.
The crowd had begun to lose faith, but when the ball reached Jaeven's feet — everything changed.
A single touch. Then another.
Two defenders lunged. He slipped between them effortlessly, his body moving like water.
"Is that—?"
"No way— he's—he's dancing!"
A body feint, a step-over, a drag-back.
He cut through, shaped his body, and curled one from outside the box.
The ball flew — pure, dipping, venomous — and kissed the net's top corner.
1–3.
Silence. Then — eruption.
> "HAN! HAN! HAN!"
The sound shook the stadium to its core.
Rossi yelled from the sideline. "Push! Push!"
Mantova's players suddenly looked unsettled, retreating faster than before.
But Jaeven wasn't stopping.
---
85:00 — The Second Spark
A long ball came over the top from Cattaneo.
Jaeven brought it down with a velvet first touch, flicked it over a defender's leg, and darted into the box.
He didn't even look up — just toe-poked a finish past the rushing keeper.
2–3.
The bench exploded. Fans screamed his name. Mantova's coach barked orders furiously.
Jaeven jogged back to the center circle, calm, eyes burning.
> "Ten minutes," he whispered. "Just ten."
---
88:00 — The Free Kick
A foul — thirty-nine, maybe forty yards out.
Jaeven stood over the ball, eyes tracing the far corner.
Cattaneo approached. "You sure about this?"
Jaeven didn't answer.
He adjusted his stance, visualized the curve, and breathed out.
The referee's whistle blew.
His foot struck — clean, pure, almost divine.
The ball lifted, twisted midair, and dipped just under the bar — impossible to stop.
3–3.
The stadium went insane.
Even Mantova's fans were speechless.
Commentators screamed over each other:
> "Unreal!"
"From forty yards—how is that possible?!"
And yet, Jaeven didn't celebrate wildly.
He just pointed upward, calm, knowing there was still time.
---
90:00 — The Miracle
Extra time wasn't an option.
They needed the win to lift the trophy.
One last attack.
Virtus pushed high. Mantova tried to clear, but Morelli intercepted and slid it toward the left flank.
Jaeven.
He trapped it, spun, step-over, drag. Ferri lunged in late — missed completely.
He sprinted into the box, flicked the ball up with his left, twisted midair—
Bicycle kick.
Time froze.
The ball flew backward over his head, cutting through the cold night air — the keeper's fingertips brushed it — and then the net rippled.
GOAL. 4–3.
The stadium exploded like thunder.
Fans jumped barriers. Rossi dropped to his knees. The bench sprinted onto the pitch.
> "JAEVEN! JAEVEN! JAEVEN!"
He rose slowly, eyes wide, heartbeat racing.
He had done it.
---
Full-Time — Champions
When the whistle blew, Virtus players collapsed in joy.
Cattaneo hugged Jaeven so tightly he could barely breathe.
"We're champions!" he shouted. "We did it!"
Rossi came running, his face streaked with emotion.
He didn't speak — just placed a hand on Jaeven's head.
"Thank you, kid," he whispered.
---
Award Ceremony
The confetti rained down.
Virtus Lombardia lifted the Serie D championship trophy under the floodlights.
Journalists flooded the pitch. Cameras flashed.
Jaeven stood at the center, medal around his neck, head tilted back toward the night sky.
The System flickered again.
> [Objective Complete – League Champion.]
[Rewards Granted:]
• Legendary Pack ×1
• Superstar Pack ×2 (Clutch Victory Bonus)
• Superstar Pack ×1 (Free Kick Bonus)
[Integration Mode deactivated.]
[Integration Library Updated: Neymar (Phase – Complete).]
Jaeven's body relaxed, the light fading from his eyes.
The exhaustion hit all at once — but so did the smile.
---
Later That Night
After the ceremony, he walked alone through the quiet streets of Lombardia, gold medal glinting faintly under the street lamps.
He stopped by a small restaurant — the same kind he used to visit when no one knew his name.
He ordered food, waited, and for a brief moment, peace settled around him.
Then — someone bumped into him near the counter.
"Oh, I'm so sorry—!"
Her voice was soft.
When Jaeven turned, he froze.
She was stunning — dark hair, eyes that held a quiet fire, elegant posture even in casual clothes.
"It's fine," he said.
She tilted her head, studying him for a second, confusion flickering in her eyes.
"I've seen you before…" she murmured.
But before she could finish, a group of girls called her from the corner.
> "Lucia! Come on, we're leaving!"
She smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I— I have to go."
She turned away, running to her friends — but just before she left, she glanced back.
Their eyes met again — a brief, electric connection.
And then she was gone.
Jaeven stood there, motionless for a moment, then exhaled.
> "Who was that…?"
The night felt different now.
He stepped back into the streetlight, medal gleaming faintly on his chest, the words of the crowd still echoing in his ears.
> "The boy who made miracles."
Virtus Lombardia — Serie D Champions.
And Jaeven Moretti Han — a name Italy would never forget.