Stadio Renato Dall'Ara.Minute 15.Score: Bologna 1 - 0 Roma.
The stadium was buzzing. Rio's early goal had shocked everyone. But on the sideline, Jose Mourinho stood motionless. The legendary Portuguese coach was wearing a long grey coat, his hands deep in his pockets. He didn't look angry. He looked like a grandmaster who had just sacrificed a pawn to trap the queen.
He whistled. Sharp. Two fingers in his mouth. He pointed at Kenjiro Tanaka. Then he tapped his own knee. It was a ruthless signal. Target the weakness.
On the pitch, the atmosphere shifted instantly. Roma's formation changed from a loose 3-5-2 to a suffocating 5-4-1. They stopped pressing high. They retreated. They built a "Low Block" wall around the center circle. And they assigned a dedicated jailer for Kenjiro: Leandro Paredes.
Paredes was an Argentine World Cup winner. A master of the "Dark Arts" of football. He walked up to Kenjiro during a throw-in and stepped on his toe. Hard. "Welcome back, cripple," Paredes whispered in Spanish.
Kenjiro flinched. The Symbiotic Contract intercepted the neural signal. Rio, standing 20 meters away, gasped. He felt a sharp, phantom stab in his own foot, as if a boot had just crushed his toes. He gritted his teeth, tasting iron. So this is how it works, Rio thought. I am his voodoo doll.
Minute 35.The Cage.
The game became ugly. It wasn't football anymore; it was bullying. Every time Kenjiro touched the ball, three Roma players collapsed on him. The "Cage" tactic. They didn't tackle him cleanly. They bumped him. They pulled his shirt. They kicked his ankles just enough to hurt but not enough for a red card.
Kenjiro, terrified of re-injury, started playing safe. Back pass. Side pass. Back pass. The "Architect" was paralyzed by trauma.
"Pass it forward!" the Bologna fans screamed.
Kenjiro looked up. He saw the passing lane to Rio. But he also saw the shadow of Gianluca Mancini (Roma Defender) waiting to smash him the moment he released the ball. Kenjiro hesitated. Paredes stole the ball easily.
"Transition!" Mourinho shouted.
Roma broke fast. Romelu Lukaku received the ball, used his massive frame to bounce off Bologna's defender like a tank, and smashed a low shot into the bottom corner. GOAL.Bologna 1 - 1 Roma.
Mourinho turned to the hostile crowd and cupped his ear. I can't hear you anymore.
Halftime.Locker Room.
The room was silent. Kenjiro sat with his head down, gripping his metal knee brace until his knuckles turned white. He was shaking. "I can't do it," Kenjiro whispered. "They are targeting the knee. Every time I turn, I feel their studs."
Rio sat next to him. Rio's nose was bleeding again—a side effect of the neural load. He stuffed a tissue up his nostril. "Are you in pain?" Rio asked.
"No," Kenjiro admitted, looking confused. "The knee feels fine. Because of you. But the fear... the fear is real."
Adrian Vance wheeled himself into the center. "Mourinho has parked the bus," Adrian said, sketching angrily on the board. "He has locked the center. He knows Kenjiro is the hub. If he kills the hub, the wheel stops turning."
"So we lose?" Kenjiro asked.
"No," Rio stood up, spitting blood-tinged saliva into a trash can. "We change the role." Rio looked at Kenjiro. "You are not the Architect anymore. You are the Bait."
"Bait?"
"Hold the ball," Rio commanded. "Don't pass quickly. Hold it. Make them come to you. Make Paredes and Cristante leave their defensive positions to hunt you." "If I hold it, they will hit me," Kenjiro argued.
"Let them hit you," Rio said fiercely, grabbing Kenjiro's shoulder. "I will take the pain. Just hold it long enough to create a gap for me to run into."
Kenjiro looked at Rio's bloodshot eyes. He saw the sacrifice. "Okay," Kenjiro nodded slowly. "I will be the bait."
Second Half. Minute 75.Score: 1 - 1.
The game was a stalemate. A trench war. Roma was happy with a draw. They wasted time at every throw-in. Mourinho was already shaking hands with his assistant, confident the game was dead.
Then, Kenjiro received the ball deep in his own half. Usually, he would pass immediately to avoid contact. But this time, he stopped. He put his foot on the ball. He looked at Paredes. He smiled.
Paredes was insulted. "You think you can mock me, boy?" Paredes charged. Kenjiro didn't pass. He turned his back, shielding the ball. Bryan Cristante saw this and joined the hunt. "Trap him!"
Two Roma midfielders collapsed on Kenjiro. The disciplined defensive shape of Roma warped. A tiny gap opened in the middle of the pitch.
Now, Kenjiro thought.
He didn't pass with his foot. He was too crowded. He used his heel. A Backheel Flick. The ball rolled perfectly through Paredes' open legs (Nutmeg), escaping the cage.
It rolled into the open space. Rio Valdes was already running. He picked up the ball. The midfield was empty. Roma's two guards were stuck with Kenjiro.
"STOP THE TRANSITION!" Mourinho screamed from the sideline, losing his cool. "BRING HIM DOWN!"
Gianluca Mancini, the Roma center-back, stepped up to kill the play. He prepared to tackle Rio—not the ball, but the man. A professional foul.
Rio saw Mancini coming. He checked his System. [Lifespan: 328 Days] He had no active skills left. The Golden Arc was useless here. The Ghost didn't work when you had the ball.
I have to beat him with raw skill. Rio remembered the training. The Judo Turn? No, Mancini was too far away. He needed something faster.
Rio tapped the ball to the right. Mancini shifted his weight. Rio tapped it back to the left instantly. La Croqueta. (Automated by The Matador Passive).
Zip-Zap.
Rio glided past Mancini's tackle. Mancini's studs grazed Rio's ankle, tearing the sock, drawing blood. But Rio didn't fall. The E+ Balance held him up.
He was through. He was one-on-one with Rui Patricio.
Rio's lungs were burning. His vision was blurring. The Symbiotic Contract was draining him. He felt Kenjiro's exhaustion piling on top of his own. He cocked his leg to shoot hard. Rui Patricio dove to cover the far post, expecting the trademark curl.
Rio saw the keeper move. He changed his mind at the last millisecond. He didn't curl. He chipped. A Dink.
He scooped the ball gently underneath. The ball floated lazily over the diving keeper. It seemed to hang in the air for an eternity, mocking the chaos below. It dropped softly into the center of the net.
GOAL.Minute 78.Bologna 2 - 1 Roma.
The stadium shook. Rio didn't celebrate. He collapsed. He lay on his back, staring at the blinding floodlights. Kenjiro limped over and fell beside him.
"Did you see the nutmeg?" Kenjiro gasped, laughing hysterically. "I saw it," Rio wheezed. "Nice bait."
Full Time.Bologna 2 - 1 Roma.
The referee blew the whistle. Bologna had beaten Roma. Jose Mourinho stared at the scoreboard. He shook his head. He walked onto the pitch. He didn't go to Rossi. He went to Kenjiro and Rio.
Mourinho looked at Kenjiro's knee brace. "You have courage, kid," Mourinho grunted. Then he looked at Rio. "And you... you are a problem." It was the highest compliment the Special One could give.
The Aftermath.Physio Room.
Rio lay on the treatment table. Dr. Luca was stitching the cut on his ankle. But the real damage was internal.
[System Alert][Symbiotic Contract Toll][Host Vitality Low][Warning: Excessive use of Link will degrade Host's immune system.]
Adrian Vance entered the room. He looked worried. "We won," Adrian said softly. "We are 7th in the table. European spots." He placed a tablet on Rio's chest. "But look at the news."
Rio squinted at the screen. It wasn't a sports article. It was a business article from The Financial Times.
[RUMOR: American Consortium looking to buy Bologna FC.][Potential New Owner: Tyler Stone, Tech Billionaire.]
"Tyler Stone," Adrian spat the name. "He is an analytics guy. Moneyball on steroids. He buys clubs, fires the staff, and sells the players for profit." Adrian looked at Rio and Kenjiro. "If he buys the club... he will bring his own medical team. He will see Kenjiro's records. He will see your heart scans. He will liquidate us."
Rio sat up, wincing as the room spun. "How do we stop him?"
"We don't stop the sale," Adrian said. "We make ourselves too valuable to sell. We have to qualify for the Champions League."
"Champions League?" Rio laughed weakly. "We are Bologna. Top 4 is impossible."
"It's the only way," Adrian said grimly. "If we reach the Top 4, the fans will riot if he tries to sell the heroes. We need to become untouchable."
Rio looked at his lifespan. 328 Days. Top 4 meant war every week. It meant facing Napoli, Lazio, Atalanta. It meant burning more life.
"Fine," Rio said, lying back down and closing his eyes. "Top 4. Easy."