Michael Sterling stood on the touchline. His coat was soaked through. His shoes were ruined. But he did not care.

He was watching Kenji Sato.

The Japanese Engine was running back to his position after clearing the ball off the line. Kenji was covered in so much mud that you could not see the number on his back. He looked like a statue made of clay.

"He is not human," Arthur Milton whispered, shaking his head. "He ran the length of the pitch in ten seconds. In the mud."

"He runs on honor," Michael said. "And carbohydrates."

MINUTE 55

The game was gridlocked. 0 to 0.

Barnsley tried to pass. Kai Sora received the ball. He tried to turn, but his boots stuck in the mud.

"This grass is glue!" Kai complained, shielding the ball from two Forest players. "Boss! Can we play on the road? The road is cleaner!"

"Just pass it Kai!" Michael yelled.

Kai flicked a pass to Isaiah King.

Isaiah tried to run. But the Forest left-back, a giant named Toffolo, simply barged him over.

Isaiah splashed into a puddle. He sat there, looking at his ruined pink boots.

"My drip!" Isaiah wailed. "It is ruined!"

"Get up!" Shaun Higgins roared from the back. "You are waterproof!"

MINUTE 60

The Nottingham Forest manager stood up.

He was smiling. A cruel, confident smile.

He signaled to the fourth official.

"Substitution," the stadium announcer boomed. "Coming off... Chris Wood."

The giant striker walked off slowly. The Barnsley defenders relaxed. The big tree was gone.

"Good," Higgins grunted. "My neck hurts from looking up."

"Coming on..." the announcer continued. "Number 42. Kofi Mensah."

Michael frowned. He looked at Arthur.

"Who is Kofi Mensah?" Michael asked. "He is not on the scouting report."

Arthur flipped through his papers frantically. "I don't know Boss. He must be from their academy. He looks young."

He was young. He stood on the sideline jumping up and down. He was short. He was thin. He looked like he weighed about as much as a bag of crisps.

But then, Michael felt a vibration in his pocket.

It was violent. It was a warning.

Michael pulled out his phone. The System screen was flashing red.

[DANGER ALERT]

[OPPONENT ANALYSIS: KOFI MENSAH]

[ATTRIBUTE DETECTED: SPEED]

[ACCELERATION: 20/20]

[TOP SPEED: 38 KM/H]

[COMPARISON: KYLIAN MBAPPE]

Michael dropped the phone.

"Arthur," Michael whispered. "We are in trouble."

MINUTE 62

The game restarted.

Sam Jones kicked the ball long. It was headed back by Forest.

The ball fell to the new kid. Kofi Mensah.

He was standing on the halfway line. Benjamin Pavard was five yards away.

Pavard was a World Cup winner. He was smart. He knew angles. He knew positioning.

Mensah took a touch.

Then he vanished.

It was not a run. It was a teleportation.

One second he was in front of Pavard. The next second he was ten yards behind him.

"WHAT?!" Pavard shouted, spinning around.

Mensah sprinted. He didn't run on the mud. He skimmed over it like a stone on water.

"CATCH HIM!" Michael screamed.

Higgins tried. The Butcher ran across to cover. Higgins was fast for a big man.

But Mensah just pushed the ball past him and accelerated again. It was humiliating. It was like watching a Ferrari race a tractor.

Mensah was through on goal.

Sam Jones came out.

Mensah didn't shoot. He went round the keeper. He didn't even slow down.

He rolled the ball towards the empty net.

The stadium held its breath.

But the mud saved Barnsley.

The ball hit a sticky patch of wet earth just before the line. It slowed down. It stopped.

Pavard arrived. He slid in and hacked the ball away.

The crowd groaned.

"Did you see that?" Arthur gasped, clutching his chest. "He is a glitch. He is a cheat code."

"He is faster than Mbappe," Michael said, wiping rain from his eyes. "We have to drop deeper. If we leave space behind us, we are dead."

MINUTE 70

The dynamic of the match had changed completely.

Before, it was a battle of strength. Now, it was a battle of terror.

Every time Forest got the ball, they looked for Mensah.

Every time Mensah moved, the Barnsley defense panicked.

"BACK! GET BACK!" Higgins screamed at his midfield. "DO NOT LET HIM RUN!"

Barnsley were pinned back. They couldn't play The Carousel. They couldn't play The Overload. They were too scared to leave their own half.

Kai Sora was standing on the edge of his own box.

"This is not fun," Kai muttered to Arda Guler. "I am getting dizzy watching him run. He makes me tired just by existing."

"He is fast," Arda agreed, breathing heavy. "Like a Turkish taxi driver who is late for dinner."

MINUTE 75

Barnsley tried to counter.

Isaiah King got the ball. He wanted to show that he was the main character.

He ran at the Forest defense. He did a step-over. He beat one man.

"Pass!" Danny Fletcher shouted.

Isaiah ignored him. He wanted glory. He wanted to outshine the new kid.

He shot from thirty yards.

It was a wild shot. It flew high and wide. It hit a fan in row Z.

"Isaiah!" Michael shouted. "Play the game! Not the ego!"

Isaiah threw his hands up in frustration.

MINUTE 78

The inevitable happened.

Barnsley lost the ball in midfield. Kenji Sato tried to tackle, but he slipped.

The ball rolled to the Forest captain, Gibbs-White.

He looked up. He didn't even look for a pass. He just hit the ball into the empty space behind the Barnsley defense.

It looked like a bad pass. It was too heavy. It was going out for a goal kick.

But Kofi Mensah started running.

"He can't reach that," Arthur said. "It's impossible."

Mensah engaged the thrusters.

His legs were a blur. He ate up the ground. Ten yards. Twenty yards.

Pavard was running too, but he looked like he was moving in slow motion.

Mensah reached the ball just before the byline.

He didn't cross.

He cut inside.

He was right on the edge of the six-yard box. Higgins came flying in with a desperate slide tackle.

Mensah stopped. Higgins slid past him, crashing into the advertising boards.

Mensah looked at Sam Jones.

Sam made himself big.

Mensah didn't blast it. He just poked it. A tiny, fast toe-poke.

The ball went through Sam's legs.

It trickled into the net.

GOAL.

1 to 0.

The City Ground erupted. The noise was deafening.

Kofi Mensah ran to the corner. He did a backflip. Then another. Then a third.

Michael Sterling stood frozen in the rain.

"We got speed-blitzed," Michael whispered.

Pavard was sitting on the ground, shaking his head. He looked old. He looked like a man who had just realized that time waits for no one.

"Get up!" Michael shouted, trying to wake his team up. "It is one goal! We can score one goal!"

MINUTE 82

Barnsley kicked off. They were desperate.

But they were also terrified.

They pushed forward, but every time they lost the ball, they looked over their shoulders, looking for the monster in the number 42 shirt.

Fear is a heavy weight to carry on a football pitch.

Kai Sora tried to organize the team.

"Give me the ball!" Kai shouted. "Stop running around like chickens!"

He got the ball. He tried to calm the game down.

But Forest were buzzing. They had the lead. They had the crowd. And they had the weapon.

MINUTE 85

It almost happened again.

Forest cleared a corner. The ball went high.

Mensah chased it.

This time, Diego Nunez wasn't there to bully him. This time, Finn Riley wasn't there to race him.

It was just Higgins.

Higgins knew he couldn't win the race. So he did the only thing he could.

He stepped across Mensah's path. He used his body.

CRASH.

It was a cynical foul. A tactical foul.

Mensah went down rolling.

The referee blew the whistle.

YELLOW CARD.

Higgins took the card. He didn't argue. He wiped the rain from his face.

"He is too fast Boss," Higgins shouted to the bench. "I cannot catch smoke!"

MINUTE 86

The clock was ticking.

Barnsley 0. Nottingham Forest 1.

The rain was falling harder now. It felt like the sky was crying for them.

Michael looked at his bench. He had no fast defenders left. He had used his subs.

He looked at the System stats on his tablet.

[MATCH STATUS: CRITICAL]

[WIN PROBABILITY: 5%]

[OPPONENT MOMENTUM: OVERWHELMING]

The computer thought it was over. The fans thought it was over.

But Michael looked at his players.

He saw Isaiah King pulling up his socks. He saw Danny Fletcher clapping his hands. He saw Kenji Sato stretching his tired legs.

And he saw Kai Sora.

Kai was standing over the free kick that Higgins had conceded. He was deep in his own half.

Kai looked at the clock. 86 minutes.

He looked at Michael.

Kai adjusted his invisible sunglasses.

He didn't look scared. He looked annoyed.

"This game is messy," Kai seemed to say with his body language. "I am going to clean it up."

Michael felt a tiny spark of hope.

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