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墨書 Inktalez
No one dared to defy the captain's orders; this was the authority granted by the terrifying strategist, Clinton. Clinton was the head coach of eight star teams, and even championship coaches had to bow down in his presence.
In recent months, not even the troublemakers dared to act up on his turf. It was his domain, and even if he asked them to bark like dogs, they would have to lower their heads and complete their four years of schooling. Thus, Long Xingchen, as the captain here, had the authority of an acting coach. Even the notorious Adams, who held sway in the locker room, now ran laps on the field like a bobbing bear.
Long Xingchen did not resort to Clinton's unreasonable outbursts. Instead, his favorite mantra was: "As long as I see you giving it your all, that is a great start." Or perhaps, "You did well; your training was diligent, and your contributions have created a positive atmosphere for the team's offense. However, that's just one aspect; it would be even better if you could connect with others in the offensive organization."
On the muddy field, a group of people crawled and rolled around. A ball tore across half the court like a cannonball. With enhanced physical abilities, most members of the Ice Dust Team could perform exceptionally well. They could sprint toward the baseline in no time. This sport relied not only on speed but also heavily on strength. Players from both sides scrambled for the ball, their bodies colliding vigorously as they used their strength to push each other aside and crush their opponents, allowing their teammates behind them to score more effectively.
In the next round, positions would switch between the defense and offense teams. In Crazy Basketball, the rules aligned closely with American football; however, the athletes were a group of muscle-bound monsters. Even the weakest player could be a perfect asset in basketball or soccer. In contrast, those with abilities were hardly worth mentioning in front of these beasts.
Freyr was part of the special operations team, and his position number felt awkward. He glanced around and saw only two others. As the leader of this special team, he had one leader for both offense and defense teams, while his organization remained an idle third party with just two substitutes—his role as a kicker and another as a holder.
Freyr was satisfied with his precise kicking ability; he could deliver high-arc banana kicks. Typically, during tense moments in games, it was his time to shine because direct physical confrontations were outright lethal for someone as slender as him. Originally a backup quarterback, he found Long Xingchen had already taken his place at Command Tower.
The holder he worked with was Nemo, who also appeared quite frail. True to his appearance, Nemo seemed like nothing more than a super substitute serving tea in the Ice Dust Team's locker room. Even after fulfilling his duties for a year as a sophomore, he still couldn't reach starter level—his abilities were low yet remained unnoticed.
"There's sixty-five yards to the goalpost; it's best to concentrate your force on one point. Even with our unique physiques, it's still challenging to kick into that goal from this distance."
Nemo placed the ball steadily on the ground and indicated where to focus his kick. As demonstrated earlier, the ball did not land well in the goal but instead bounced off the edge of it quickly. Although his kicking power was decent, he lacked some predictive ability.
In contrast, Freyr had excellent control over predictive accuracy. He hesitated briefly before relaxing his leg muscles and then suddenly pushed off hard; the ball flew straight into the center of the goal like an aircraft carrier landing perfectly on deck. Just as he had developed it in practice—amidst audience distractions and challenges from opponents—if he could score despite these interferences, it would add three points toward victory for his team.
Others rolling around in the mud noticed Freyr's long-distance shot and looked back slightly at him; it was clear someone behind them was very pleased with what they had just witnessed.
Nemo continued setting up for Freyr's next kick just like before. Once again, he shot towards the goalpost; however, this time he miscalculated his power. From forty-five yards away to execute such a powerful shot—who would have thought it came from Freyr's foot?
"Just handle the ball like I did earlier and practice harder; I'm going over there to check on him," Long Xingchen said as he tossed the ball toward a nearby receiver.
The receiver nodded but immediately reacted by charging forward fiercely after catching it. A few players were intimidated by his momentum but soon defensive players rushed out to tackle him down like tigers pouncing on prey.
Long Xingchen paid little attention to that situation as he turned away and walked toward Freyr. Upon arriving in front of him just in time to witness another successful shot into the goalpost—out of five attempts from that distance, two hit the posts but fell outside—others viewed this long-range effort as impressive enough already. Maintaining such accuracy at five out of two truly surprised him; it revealed hidden talent within their team that he hadn't anticipated.
Long Xingchen then said calmly, "The angle doesn't matter, but you need to strengthen your leg power. It's clearly insufficient in your training. Go do thirty sets of squat jumps and then come back to shoot. This is your mission; make sure to maximize this ability. As a striker, you play a crucial role in this game. Although scoring a goal only earns three points while a touchdown gives seven, under most circumstances where tactics can't be executed, focusing on precise shooting makes you an invaluable secret weapon for the team."
"Nemo, you help him," Long Xingchen glanced at Nemo beside him and instructed.
"Yes!"
"Alright!"
The two responded in unison and briskly moved to the other side to continue their new training.
Later, on the playground.
Two rows of large seats were set up on the field, accommodating all students and teachers for viewing. Above was a large LCD screen, and below was a vast green field, with even the grass meticulously maintained by the groundskeepers.
The overall appearance resembled a grand carnival hall, with ticket booths outside. In no time, tickets for the Season Cup Tournament were sold out. It was evidently difficult to allow nearly a thousand students from the entire school to enter, but those who couldn't buy tickets climbed trees to watch the game through the scores and glimpses of action displayed on the electronic Virtual Screen.
As a result, some scalpers took advantage of this situation near several trees, raising prices significantly. Surprisingly, those without tickets found it harder to gain viewing rights than those who had them. In the end, some paid extra money just to secure a spot in a tree, listening to the speeches drifting through the air while gazing at the edges of the Phantom on the electronic Virtual Screen, their minds racing with memories of spectacular Phantoms.
Eight teams arrived at the venue wearing their respective uniforms. The captain of last year's champion team handed over the championship flag to Freyr. Freyr looked at the captain of last year's champion team on stage and then glanced at the other seven teams; each person's eyes reflected a desire and strong need for that championship flag.
This year-long training was precisely to test their worthiness for the title of champion. The existence of champions is meant for surpassing others. The entire Blue Poison Tyrannosaurus Team exuded an intense pressure; their collective spirit radiated an undeniable determination that no other team could match. Moreover, Ice Dust Team had undergone significant changes this year, fielding last year's perennial substitutes alongside Long Xingchen from the formidable Four Teams.
Long Xingchen assessed the seven teams with sharp eyes as if scanning them with lasers. "This year many teams have altered their lineups significantly. Take last year's runner-up and fourth place—Storm Team and Shark Team—the champions Azure Poison Tyrannosaurus still seem formidable; this will be challenging."
After he finished speaking, the young ones behind him shrank back uncomfortably because their training had exhausted them; each face bore signs of displeasure. When key figures from Command Tower suggested they could go home and rest, it felt like belittling their presence, leaving them genuinely dissatisfied.
"We haven't even played yet! Is this what leadership looks like?" Adams said with his hands on his hips, fuming. "We're in great shape right now; we won't back down in a direct confrontation."
Xiu replied indifferently, "Young man, ignorance of the game is true ignorance. The champion position has already been decided; only two spots remain for runner-up and third place. Other teams are determined to win—it's a dog-eat-dog scenario. With them around, the remaining six teams will never see daylight."
Adams shook his head dismissively: "So what? With our proud chain defense, we can surely hold off most of their players."
"Alright, enough of that. You've completely ruined the mood for preparing for battle. You need to learn from others; silence is golden and a virtue," Xiu said coldly.
Adams was the leader of the defense team, followed by a group of loyal followers. Only a few people listened to his boasting, while the others remained silent, only hearing the laughter coming from their side. This made the other team members glance over at them.
"Shut up," Freyr snapped.
Unaware if his tone was too harsh or if Adams still hadn't grasped the situation, he immediately shouted back, "What a joke! Who do you think you are, pointing fingers at me? You're not the captain; why should I listen to you? You should be the one to shut up. I'll knock your teeth out, haha."
Long Xingchen rolled his eyes at him and ignored him. Freyr fell silent and stepped back, while Adams continued to boast with his group of brothers, causing displeasure to show on the faces of other team members.
At that moment, the groupings for the two major regions were displayed on the electronic Virtual Screen. At the top of the pyramid was the champion, with two top-ranking teams from each region able to advance first. Two teams would be eliminated in the semifinals before the real competition began. However, if a strong team faced elimination directly in the Score match, even last year's champion would be subjected to suspicious gazes from the audience.
"Our element zone has last year's runner-up placed here. If we defeat them, we can advance to the Reincarnation Tournament first. The four teams are Storm Team, Star Team, Thunder Team, and Ice Dust Team. I’m not sure about the strength of the other teams, but Storm Team is last year's champion and much stronger than us. They have extensive experience on the finals stage, and their coach is our coach's rival, so they know each other well. With them around, we will always be second," Long Xingchen assessed seriously while pinching his chest, his expression turning grave.
"What’s so great about that? Like I said, who cares? Let’s just go after Storm Team," Adams said. He and Freyr were in the same year but were still just good at talking big.
However, if someone else had said that instead, it might have had a better effect. After all, he was still a newcomer without practical experience in large competitions. Xiu shot him an eye roll and then scolded him angrily, "Everything you just said was pointless. Do you understand that silence is golden? Can't you learn something from those around you? If it were that easy to conquer them, would we need to go through so much effort and cost discussing tactics? Even with you here, we would still lose. Besides, you have a fatal flaw as well."
"No way! What flaw could I possibly have?" Adams retorted angrily, unconsciously raising his voice.
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