The air felt like molten lead.
The score was locked at [1-1] in the second half of the friendly match against a tenacious League 1 team. Every second ticking past on the stadium clock was a catastrophic loss for Rio. A draw meant losing 30 days of his remaining existence—a debt he simply could not pay.
He stood in the center circle, a ghost operating in an inferno. He wore the National Team's number 7 jersey, the number of the maverick, the attacking heart. But his performance felt like a desperate, calculated lie.
[CURRENT LIFESPAN: 37 Days, 06 Hours][Stamina: 30/100][Heart Stress: 145% (DANGER)]
He was operating on reserve fuel. The massive 30-day debit from the [Masquerade Mask] hung over him like a guillotine blade. His strategy of minimizing movement had kept him alive for 68 minutes, but he knew the collapse was imminent. His legs were heavy, filled with concrete. His heart was protesting with every beat, a fragile bird slamming against the bars of his ribs.
"You need to score, Rio," Specter urged, his voice tight with rare anxiety. "Your strategy of conserving energy has hit its wall. You need the win bonus now. If we draw, we die."
Rio's vision was blurring at the edges, a graying filter over reality. He reached into the lining of his shorts, his fingers brushing the small, fragile vial—the [Stamina Potion].
Not yet. Wait for the moment of maximum chaos.
THE POISON PASS
Minute 68.
The opposing team was pressing aggressively, trapping Indonesia in their own half. The tempo was frantic.
Rio saw the moment. He saw a two-second window of space open up in the center of the opponent's defense. It was a corridor—narrow, fleeting, and requiring lethal speed to exploit.
Rio made an aggressive surge forward, the action sending a fresh jolt of agony through his chest.
"Bambang! Through!" Rio yelled in Indonesian, pointing to the space.
Bambang, the Captain, had possession near the center circle. He paused. He glanced at Rio, saw the desperate, exhausted plea in his eyes, and understood the tactical advantage Rio was offering.
And then, fueled by contempt and ego, he executed his revenge.
Bambang deliberately launched a poison pass.
The ball flew high and hard—not to the open corridor, but diagonally past Rio, twenty meters deep into the opponent's defensive zone. The trajectory was a brutal challenge: too fast, too high, and spinning violently away from Rio. It was designed to force Rio into a suicidal full sprint or watch the attack die.
The intent was clear: Run until your heart breaks, or admit defeat and let me take the blame.
"He wants you dead, Valdes!" Specter shrieked. "He's forcing the sprint! He saw you falter in the run!"
The crowd was roaring, urging the number 7 to chase the impossible ball. Coach Bima was screaming from the sideline.
Rio's world went silent.
[ACTIVATE: EAGLE EYE (Passive)]
The geometry was absolute. If he chased that pass, his Heart Stress would breach 180%. The System Bypass would fail. Rio would collapse, and the game would end in a costly draw.
Rio slammed on the brakes. He stopped running. He let the pass fly past him, watching it bounce harmlessly into the goalkeeper's hands.
He stood still, panting, looking like a lazy, arrogant coward to everyone watching.
"Valdes! What in God's name was that?!" Coach Bima roared from the sideline. "Why did you stop?!"
Rio ignored the coach, but not the Captain.
Bambang, having slowed down to watch his enemy crumble, charged toward Rio, his chest heaving with fury and righteous indignation.
"You think you're better than me, you little—"
THE VULTURE'S LIFEBLOOD
Rio saw Bambang coming. He knew the goal had to be immediate. He couldn't afford a physical clash or a yellow card.
Rio yanked the small glass vial from the lining of his shorts.
"Specter, prepare the system for consumption. I'm taking the hit. Now."
"The side effects will be catastrophic, Rio! You'll crash worse than before!" Specter warned.
Rio forced the bottle cap off with trembling fingers. He raised the potion to his lips. It was a clear liquid, odorless, but it felt cold and terrifyingly potent.
He downed the contents in one painful, desperate gulp.
It didn't taste like medicine. It tasted like lightning and frozen metal.
The effect was instantaneous and violently aggressive. The [Stamina Potion] was a pure, unrefined adrenaline shot funneled directly into his life force.
Rio gasped, his eyes wide. His muscles seized up for a second as the foreign energy flooded his veins. Veins bulged against his neck like blue cords, pulsing with unnatural vigor.
[ITEM CONSUMED: STAMINA POTION (Small)]Effect Triggered: Instantaneously restores 50% Stamina and grants A-RANK STRENGTH/SPEED for 60 seconds. Warning: Temporary over-exertion will cause severe systemic shock after duration ends.
Rio felt the crushing pressure in his chest suddenly vanish. His lungs, which had been burning with acid, flooded with cool, fresh air. His legs, which had felt like concrete, were suddenly light, almost weightless.
He felt powerful. A sudden, dangerous, borrowed vitality.
Bambang arrived, stopping inches from Rio's face, his chest heaving with fury.
"You have no respect! You—"
Rio didn't wait for the coach to intervene. He met Bambang's eyes, his own blazing with the cold clarity of the Potion's focus.
"The goal is empty," Rio said, his voice level and dangerously calm, powered by the Potion's false strength. "Get back to your position, Captain. I'll get us the win."
Rio turned his back on Bambang and sprinted toward the halfway line. The sprint was flawless. His F-Rank body, temporarily boosted, moved with the efficiency and power of a dedicated machine.
Guntur, watching from the VIP box, narrowed his eyes. He had seen the hand-to-mouth movement. Pills? Inhaler? Or something else?
THE SIXTY-SECOND GOD
Rio knew he had less than a minute. He couldn't afford a wasted second.
Minute 70:30.
Rio intercepted a predictable pass in midfield—a simple theft enabled by his sudden, A-Rank speed. He looked up.
He saw the opponents scrambling to recover. He saw Bambang, still angry but confused by Rio's sudden burst, finally running into the box.
Rio saw the moment of truth. He had to choose the path of maximum profit and dominance.
He took three explosive steps—a micro-burst powered by the Potion—to beat the closest midfielder.
He was twenty-two meters from goal.
He pulled back his right leg and unleashed a shot.
It wasn't a clean strike learned through technique. It was a vicious, Rank A-level powered shot provided by the Potion's borrowed strength. The perfect calculation of [Eagle Eye] gave the shot a deadly placement.
The ball tore through the air, bypassing the defense and curling viciously toward the top corner.
The goalkeeper was rooted to the spot.
WHACK!
The ball smashed into the back of the net.
GOAL.Indonesia [2] - [1] Opponent
Rio didn't celebrate. The instant the ball hit the net, the [Stamina Potion] duration ended.
The energy vanished like a snuffed candle in a dark room. The resulting systemic shock was horrific.
His entire body collapsed inwardly. It felt like every cell in his F-Rank heart stopped beating at once.
He fell to his knees, clutching the number 7 on his chest, his knuckles white.
[SYSTEM WARNING]!!! SEVERE CARDIAC SHOCK !!![HEART STRESS: 190%]SYSTEM BYPASS ENGINE FAILING.
He was dying. He had bought the goal with the coin of his own death.
Bambang ran over. He stood over Rio, his face reflecting not rage, but a chilling, clinical assessment.
"You didn't pass," Bambang whispered, his voice hoarse. "You chose the goal. You chose to risk everything."
Bambang looked at Rio's collapsing body, then back at the scoreboard, his eyes gleaming with pragmatic realization.
"Good," Bambang said coldly. "You bought us the win. Now, live until the next match. I still need your passes."
The referee blew the final whistle. Indonesia [2-1] Victory.
Rio lay on the grass, tasting blood and triumph.
[MATCH WON]REWARD: +7 Days Lifespan
[GAME WINNING GOAL]REWARD: +2 Days Lifespan
[TOTAL GAIN: +9 DAYS]
He had successfully raised his margin, but as the medical team rushed onto the field, Rio closed his eyes.
Nine days, he thought as the darkness took him. The debt is shrinking. But the interest is killing me.