Football singularity-Chapter 479 Reactions

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[Moments earlier]

The tension in the VIP seating area had only continued to heighten following Sakas' goal. Since there were also English businessmen in the area, it made for a divided audience. Some even engage in light betting on who would win, upping the stakes even more. For the Rex family and May, things were more personal, though, as Ben could be seen holding his wife's hand in comfort.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come. My presence must be bringing him bad luck," He found himself saying as he watched the players battle it out as the four minutes of added time commenced. Rakim was also in the thick of things despite usually playing things safe and only taking risks on offence.

"Oh, Hush, we both know he plays harder every time he knows you're coming to watch him." Lisa quickly chastised him with a light slap on his arm, causing the nearby Wolfgang's brows to knit upon overhearing.

"(Sigh) You're right, but he looks more tired than usual. Playing every game for almost 90 minutes is clearly taking a toll on him," Ben commented, and he was right.

Rakim could be seen bent over slightly as he held himself up on his knees just past the halfway line. Jude had just sent a sharp through ball up the flank for Saka to chase, but Noah was right on his shoulder. Despite the battle, Ben's eyes never left his son, who was stationary until he suddenly moved.

Dropping back down the line, he created an option for Noah, who had just won the ball from Saka. "He's got the ball," little Anne-Marie exclaimed from the top of her lungs as she jumped to her feet, dragging Emma and May to stand up as she didn't let go of their arms.

The older girls wanted to complain, but looking at the excited 10-year-old, whose gaze was glued to the field, they simply tightened their grips on her hands and followed her lead. From their elevated view, Rakim looked close yet so far, but even then, his movements still looked sharp to them. He dropped his shoulder, shifting the ball inward toward Angelo for a lightning-quick one-two.

"Rakim on the move," Garner's voice resounded through the speakers just as he received the return pass, spinning into space past Rice. "England needs to make a stop as he is the type to get more dangerous once he gets going."

Eddie Hall's voice rang out from the nearby speakers: "Rakim Rex, still going here! This is outrageous!" his words caused those around them to subconsciously rise to their feet as if proximity could influence the outcome. And it did, as almost the next moment, Rakim glided past Jude Bellingham with a silky La Croqueta, leaving the England star reaching for air.

Ben's heart hammered against his ribs as he watched his son surge forward, the golden boots flashing beneath the floodlights. The whole Rex family was now standing, their hands clutched tightly in front of them or gripping the backs of the velvet seats. Anne-Marie was practically bouncing, her voice a shrill squeak drowned out by the rising murmur from the crowd.

"He's past Bellingham!" Garner barked through the speakers, urgency threading his voice. "Still Rakim Rex! He's like a ghost between tackles!"

Below, Rakim barely slowed, his body swaying and weaving like a flame against the wind. A white shirt lunged toward him—Ben Chilwell—but Rakim flicked the ball up with the tip of his left foot, then again with the outside of his boot, tossing it delicately over Chilwell's lunge as he darted around the defender with a burst of raw desperation.

"That's disrespectful, He's out there toying with them in the dying minutes!" Eddie Hall's voice cracked with disbelief. "Two touches, and he's left another in the dust!"

"He's going to go all the way, Emma," May exclaimed in excitement. May's words barely left her mouth before Rakim, seemingly conjuring energy from nowhere, controlled the ball beautifully on his chest despite a hard shove from Conor Bradley. The crowd's roar dipped, almost gasping collectively as Rakim's right foot stretched out, reclaiming the ball before it could skitter away.

From the speakers above, Garner's voice was strained with excitement. "He's STILL on his feet! Rakim Rex riding challenges like a man possessed!"

Joe barely breathed; his fists pressed so tightly together that his knuckles paled. His head leaned forward, brows drawn tight, his usual detachment forgotten as the little frail boy he once met on a boat now danced across the pitch like a vision. The growth he had made in little over a decade is quite remarkable, 'I'm going to be a footballer.' Those innocent words from back then have now become reality, and so much more.

Rakim dipped his right knee low, rolling the ball behind his standing foot with a flick that barely made sense to the eye, spinning away from Conor Bradley's desperate lunge. The entire VIP box seemed frozen as Rakim staggered but somehow kept the ball tethered to his feet like an exhausted but defiant magician refusing to lose the final thread of his act.

"Still Rakim Rex!" Eddie Hall shouted through the overhead speakers, his voice cracking with disbelief. "They can kick him, shove him, trip him—but they can't stop him!"

Lisa's hand covered her mouth as if trying to hold in the emotions threatening to burst forth. May gripped Emma and Anne-Marie's hands tighter, her heart in her throat. Ben didn't blink, didn't dare breathe, as he watched his son shrug off another challenge, the sheer force of will keeping him upright.

From their high vantage point, they could see Teden Mengi trying to body him off the ball, clipping his hip. Another arm came across Rakim's face, but he barely faltered, ducking low and slipping through the tightest of gaps. Gasps echoed throughout the VIP section.

"He's still going!" Paul Garner practically screamed over the speakers. "They've thrown everything but the kitchen sink at him!"

Below them, Rakim stumbled as a boot caught his lace—he crumpled toward the ground—but then, unbelievably, rolled back to his feet in a single, fluid motion. He somehow still kept the ball under his control, surging forward once more. "Watch out!" May exclaimed in worry as she spotted Reece James sliding in from the side, her hands subconsciously covering her mouth.

But Rakim, as if seeing it unfold a second early, chopped the ball backwards with the heel of his left boot. It wasn't elegant—more a stuttering, clumsy motion—but it was enough to leave James sprawling in the dirt behind him. "HE SENT HIM FOR A HOT DOG!" Eddie Hall roared, and even the businessmen in English suits behind them couldn't help but release stunned laughter mixed with groans. freewebnσvel.cѳm

The ball popped up awkwardly as Rakim's foot caught more turf than leather, causing it to rise mid-air. He didn't panic and simply adjusted with a delayed chest trap, but Ben spotted Chilwell charging at his son like a desperate man, and he instinctively tensed—too late. Chilwell's body slammed into Rakim's back, knocking the wind out of him as his body bent backwards for a moment before crashing to the ground.

The collision sent Rakim sprawling, and the referee's whistle pierced the thick, roaring air. "FREE KICK! FREE KICK!" Garner yelled in triumph. "Just outside the D! What a run!" The VIP section erupted in a mix of shrieks, claps, and stunned silence. Lisa's hand covered her mouth, eyes shining. Wolfgang was just shaking his head in awe. Anne-Marie bounced on her toes, tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes.

"Chilwell is out this final is over for him on a rather disappointing note, and England are down to 10 for extra time." Eddie Hall stated much to the vindication of the German fans who roared in approval at seeing the person who ended such a beautiful run be punished.

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[A Few Moments Later]

Rakim, bruised and battered, his shirt clinging to him like a second skin, stood alone a few yards back from the ball. His chest rose and fell with deep, ragged breaths, but his head was up, and his pale green eyes locked onto the goal like a predator.

The stadium around him seethed and screamed, but Rakim heard none of it. To him, the pitch, the ball, and the goal were the only things that existed. He waved off any other attempts to discuss the free kick and took 5 steps backwards. 'Activate Bronze Heavy artillery'

[Ding: Bronze (active) skill Heavy artillery Activated: Shot Power Increased by 15% for attempts taking from outside the box. (4/4)]

He felt a surge of power coursing through his body, momentarily alleviating the fatigue he was feeling. Taking a slow, measured breath, he looked at the 4-man wall in front of him and didn't even think about trying to curve the ball around the wall. (Pfweeeeet) "Here we go, ladies and gents, the last action of this final in regulation time, Rakim with a chance to end things before extra time."

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To Be Continued...