"I did well. You’re thinking you’re the boss just because you’re winning. But we’re in charge here, you redneck bastards," said the player who had knocked Lucas down.
The referee whistled frantically, running towards the scene. Players from both teams began to approach, so indignant at the foul being called, and others wanting to defend Lucas.
For the first ti, Kenji’s face was showing anger. He glared at the Gekokujou player and pushed him with his arms.
"Are you crazy? That cart was ridiculous! Do you want to end his career?" Kenji shouted indignantly.
The Gekokujou player feigned indifference and raised his arms. "I didn’t do it on purpose! I swear!"
At this point, the referee was already between the two groups and was trying to sohow control the situation. He raised the red card and pointed directly at the defender who had made the foul.
"But it was just a promising attacking foul, referee! He should get a yellow!" The player wearing the Gekokujou College captain’s armband tried to argue.
Either way, the damage had already been done.
Coach Yamamoto, who had a background in physiotherapy, was able to co onto the pitch to help his player.
"Take a deep breath, Lucas. It’s going to be okay." said Mr. Yamamoto, moving Lucas’s ankle cautiously while he kept his eyes closed and hid his lips so as not to cry out in pain.
Lucas didn’t want to leave the field, definitely not. So far, this had been his best ga in a long, long ti. Two goals... One step short of his first hat-trick in the league. If he wanted to beco a striker, he needed that. And this ti he deserved it.
It wasn’t fair, not after giving so much of himself in the first half, not with victory so close. However, the swelling in his ankle was starting to form, and the pain showed no signs of easing.
"He’ll have to leave the pitch for the ga to return. Can you carry him?" asked the referee.
"Lucas, can you walk on the other foot?"
"Yes..."
"Nishida, you’re the strongest, co here and help!" Mr. Yamamoto shouted, looking around the field.
"I’m already right here, coach," said Nishida, from Lucas’s side.
"Oh, you were just there. Co on, lift him up with ."
Lucas hated the idea of being taken off the pitch, especially under these circumstances. But he knew he had no choice. Every movent he tried to make with his ankle brought a new wave of pain, as if needles were being driven into his skin.
As he left the pitch, he looked up once more, only to see the player who had injured him slowly leaving the pitch, to the booing of the crowd. The player had been punished, but the damage had already been done.
On the bench, the team was reorganizing itself. Yamamoto, always calm, knew that Lucas’ possible absence would change the dynamic of a team that was playing well. Even so, they needed to hold on to the lead for a few minutes and therefore had to adopt a more defensive formation.
On the stretcher next to the bench, Lucas closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on sothing other than the pain. But his mind was in turmoil.
"I’ll be back." The words ca out of Lucas’ lips, almost as if he was trying to convince himself as much as his coach.
Mr. Yamamoto, who was bent over Lucas’ swollen ankle, bandaging it with an expression of concentration, stopped for a mont and raised his head.
"What?" he asked, surprised by the determination in the young man’s tone.
"I’m going back to the field. Give two minutes."
Yamamoto arched an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Lucas, have you seen your ankle? It’s swollen like a soccer ball. You’ll barely be able to walk for a day, let alone play."
"I just need two minutes, coach. I’ll recover in two minutes. I know I can."
The coach was silent for a mont, weighing up the decision. He knew that Lucas was one of the team’s most promising players and had already shown what he was capable of in that ga. Two goals was no an feat. But he also knew the risks of letting an injured player back on the pitch.
"Lucas..." Yamamoto started to say, but was interrupted by the boy’s serious and determined expression. The coach sighed and finished bandaging his ankle with extra care. "Okay, if in two minutes you can stand up and walk to the edge of the field normally, I’ll let you co back."
Nishida, who had helped Lucas off the pitch, was already on his way back to the ga when he heard the request. He turned around, a broad smile spreading across his face.
"Two minutes, huh, Tanaka? I’ll pass the ssage on to the staff. We’ll hold the pressure for you. With ten against ten, it won’t be a problem."
Lucas smiled and nodded. "Thanks... Nishida."
As Yamamoto finished bandaging Lucas’s ankle and the whistle for the restart echoed through the stadium, Lucas raised his back, looked at his swollen ankle and thought:
’System, I have a healing potion and a quick recovery gel. Can these help recover?
[Yes, these healing items can help you.]
’And I can use them without necessarily putting them on visually.’
[Yes, nothing that the system displays to you is displayed to other people, animals or objects. The system is in your soul.]
’Perfect... So, system, I want to use a healing potion first and then the fast recovery gel on my ankle.’
As he gave the ntal command, sothing strange began to happen. Before his eyes, a small bottle with a golden liquid appeared, floating in the air in front of him. No one else seed to notice - it was invisible to the eyes of others - but to Lucas, it was as real as anything else around him. He held the floating potion.
It didn’t look like anything special, but he knew that its contents were the key to his recovery. Without hesitation, he opened the lid and brought the bottle to his mouth.
The taste was unexpected - smooth, almost sweet - and as soon as he swallowed, the effect was almost imdiate. He felt the pain in his ankle subside, as if invisible hands were massaging the injured area, relieving the swelling and stiffness.
Lucas let the empty vial disappear from his hand. The healing potion helped speed up the process, but he needed more to ensure he could return to the field without any problems.
The next item appeared just as silently. This ti, it was a small tube, similar to a sports ointnt, with a shiny label that read "Rapid Recovery Gel".
Lucas smiled to himself. It was almost funny, the way the system worked.
He applied the gel directly to his ankle, rubbing it carefully over the still slightly swollen area. The effect was imdiate and surreal. He felt a sensation of coolness running through his skin, as if the ice was lting and seeping deep into his muscles and ligants, repairing everything that had been damaged.
The pain, which had previously been like a relentless pin pricking his skin, began to fade quickly. The swelling reduced before his eyes, and the stiffness in his ankle practically evaporated. Lucas moved his foot, cautiously at first, testing the limits of recovery. To his surprise, the movent was normal, almost as if he had never been injured.
"Lucas, it’s been two minutes. Can you do it?"
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