Celestial League: From Streamer to Football Manager

[LIVE: LeagueNet Broadcast | Commentary: Abril Fernandez]

"Welcome back to Apex Square! The rain's coming down sideways now, and the tension could slice your scalp open. It's Kingsport United at home, a bristling derby against a desperate Primeport FC. You can hear it, can't you? Rivalry thicker than the drizzle dripping off this commentary booth!"

---

Pitch-side, Adams Harding paces the touchline like a man trying to outrun his own thoughts. The System flickers in the corner of his vision, bright as the stadium lights overhead.

> [Matchday 43:] 

Kingsport United vs Primeport FC

Win: +300 XP

Draw: +150 XP

Loss: -100 XP

He wipes rain off his nose with the back of his sleeve. It might as well be chains clinking around his throat. One slip, and they drown.

---

Abril's voice echoes through earpieces across Primeport:

"Harding's rolled the dice here, folks. Kingsport sticks to a classic 4-4-2 — that heavy-metal shape they've battered teams with for years. But look! Primeport's out in a bold 3-5-2. The Anchors haven't used this shape all season. Daisuke wide on the right — he's the dagger if he gets space."

Camera cuts to Daisuke, steam curling off his breath, boots tapping the chalk.

---

Adams barks at Ernesto on the bench. "Keep Daisuke on a leash. If he tries one fancy flick near our box—"

Ernesto smirks, tapping his tablet. "Boss, it's a derby. Stupid's mandatory."

Across the dugout, Kingsport's manager, Regnier, lounges back, arms folded, a cat waiting for the mouse to twitch.

---

[6th minute]

Abril's voice lifts, conspiratorial.

"Kingsport building from the back. Barbas — the keeper — rifles a pass straight into Jae-hwa. Look at that, ghosting between the lines like a rumour nobody wants to believe."

Jae-hwa collected, ghosting past the half-hearted press.

Lopatin roared, marshalling the back three. "CLOSE HIM DOWN! STAY ON HIM!"

Jae-hwa didn't care, he slid it through the inside channel, Jafari peeling off the defender and hit it first time — a vicious right-foot whip.

It cracked the hoardings behind the post. 

A warning shot.

Abril stated the obvious.

"Oh, that's a sighter! Early danger for Primeport. That man Jafari — give him half a yard, you need to call a glazier to fix your net."

The Kingsport end howls with laughter. A bald fella in the front row cups his mouth: "Oi Jafari, again lad! They're jelly at the back!"

Adams grinds his teeth. He feels the System hum like static behind his eyes.

> [Reward: Tactical Awareness +1]

---

[9th minute]

Daisuke takes a short pass near his own half. Drops a shoulder. Flicks it. Boots slip on the greasy turf, possession gone.

Ernesto flinches: "Don't do it—"

Jae-hwa again, slipping inside between two flat-footed midfielders and slicing the Anchors open with a single pass into the channel.

Jafari, this time, didn't miss low and past Richards, who couldn't get his glove down in time.

Low finish, corner net.

Yellow flares bloomed, the digital advertising boards pulsing with gold pixel fire, Kingsport's heartbeat in neon.

Kingsport United 1:0 Primeport FC 

Abril's voice rides the roar:

"Kingsport United strike first! One mistake — one clinical finish! That's Jafari's 21st this season. Primeport's gift-wrapped it, and the Kings tear the ribbon off."

Behind the net, Kingsport fans bounce in a thunderous wave: "Oi Anchors! Back to the docks with ya! Drown ya lot, drown ya lot!"

A man in a gold scarf bangs the hoardings so hard his wedding ring sparks. Spit flies. "You're fish food, Primeport!"

Regnier turns to Harding, a cat's grin splitting his rain-slicked face. "One mistake and you drown, Harding."

Adams doesn't answer. He's too busy fighting the urge to put his fist through the dugout glass.

> [Penalty: Squad Discipline -2]

---

[12th minute]

Lopatin storms over to Daisuke, rain dripping off his nose. "Keep it simple, you clown! You wanna dance? Do it up there — not by our box!"

Daisuke's shoulders slump. "Won't happen again."

Adams barks over the noise: "Lopatin! Shield him if he drifts! Daisuke — next time you kill the pass, you hear me?"

Ernesto's tablet pings with stats. He mutters: "Win the midfield, or we're chum."

Abril, calm as ice in the booth:

"Well, how do the Anchors respond? Still plenty of time in this derby. But you can feel the dread in their away end. Early goals change everything."

---

[35th minute]

It starts small. A loose ball was won. A crunching tackle that leaves Jae-hwa sprawling. Lopatin barks, arms wide. The midfield triangle bites down, choking Kingsport's space.

And Daisuke — stung from his blunder — turns from villain to blade.

He takes a ball at the halfway line, flips it around his marker like he's flicking a coin. Feeds a quick one-two. Bursts down the wing. Cut out at the last second.

Abril's voice sparks with energy:

"Look at Daisuke now! It's like someone lit a fire under him — from calamity to chaos engine. Kingsport can't live with him when he's on his toes like that."

Lopatin stalks the backline: "Stay tight! Squeeze them! Don't let them breathe!"

Behind him, Richards bounces on his toes, eyes locked, gloves thudding his thighs. One down. Not your fault. Next save.

The System flickered in Adams' vision.

> [Reward: Motivation +3]

---

[38th minute]

A corner for Kingsport. Jafari ghosts near the post — bullet header. Richards reacts like a viper. Full stretch, right palm flicks it over the bar.

> [Reward: Defensive Cohesion +3]

The Anchors' corner explodes — chants rattle the aluminium beams.

A kid behind the goal pounds the barrier: "Richards! He's one of us!"

Abril rides the wave:

"Oh, what a stop! Richards with the reflexes of a cat in acid rain! Primeport is still clinging on."

On the bench, young Gielgud flinched, his stomach knotting as the ball cannoned clear.

The crowd noise, the curses, the whistles, all felt like a storm battering a tin roof. 

He stole a glance at Adams, who caught his eye, and gave him a nod that said: Patience, kid. Your moment's coming.

Adams received a notification from the System.

> [Reward: Youth Development +1]

Gielgud leaned forward, boots tapping. He watched Daisuke, stung from his error, turn merciless, dropping deep, dragging the defender wide, then burning him down the wing.

He nutmegged his marker, crowd oohing, then skipped past a sliding tackle, only to be hacked down.

Free kick. 

The Anchors piled in. 

The delivery nearly found a white shirt, but Barbas flapped it away.

The Anchors pick it up, a defiant wave drowning out the yellow end for a moment. "Primeport till we die! Primeport till we die!"

Adams prowled the dugout like a caged wolf. 

Ernesto keeps tapping the tablet, stats flickering: "XG's flipped, we're edging them!" 

Adams barks: "Then we bloody score, Ernie!"

He looked half-possessed, stalking the technical area, jabbing a finger at the midfield triangle.

Across the dugouts, Regnier lounged back, arms crossed. He yelled at his players to stay compact, veins bulging in his temple.

Then he barks at his assistant, "Tell them to drop deeper! No, deeper! We're getting ripped!" He kicks a stray water bottle that splashes the fourth official's shoe.

---

[42nd minute]

Richards hurls it long down the flank. Daisuke surges onto it like a bullet train — a smear of white against Kingsport's yellow line.

He dribbles past two players in a tight space. Crowd howls — Kingsport's full-back left spinning on his laces.

Daisuke clips inside, left foot, weaker foot — swings it.

It curls — perfect — then clangs the crossbar so hard the neon goal-line flickers red.

Abril's voice cuts through the gasps:

"OH my word! Inches from redemption! The bar rattles, Kingsport breathes again."

Behind the goal, an Anchors fan rips off his hat, hurls it down, and howls at the rain: "So close, lad! Next one's in the net!"

Adams collapses to his knees, fingers knotted in his hair. Ernesto pats his shoulder, only to get shrugged off.

Across the pitch, Regnier yells to his bench: "Next one's in? Next one's over the stands!"

Adams glared at Regnier, but the System glowed behind his rage.

> [Reward: Attacking Prowess +2]

He snarls back: "We'll see who's laughing, you smug bastard."

---

[45th minute]

The Kingsport keeper boots it long. Jae-hwa tries to break again — a tangle of bodies, the ball squirts loose.

Richards flings himself at Jafari's feet — palms the ball away, taking studs to the shoulder.

Adams roars: "THAT'S MY KEEPER!"

Richards snarls, mud-slicked, fists pumping: "NEXT TIME, BLOCK IT, LADS!"

Adams smashed his fist into his palm, the System notified him.

> [Reward: Squad Loyalty +4]

The Anchors' away end roars his name until the stewards have to bang on the railing.

Abril, voice low, suspense drawn tight as piano wire:

"You can feel it now — Primeport might be behind, but they're alive. They're alive and they're angry. Daisuke's got fire in his boots, Richards is a brick wall, the Kings look rattled."

---

The referee raises his whistle. A single shriek slices the noise in two.

Kingsport jogs off, one up — but there's a nervousness in how they avoid eye contact with the away fans.

Adams claps Daisuke's shoulder, voice steel under the rain. "Next one goes in, yeah? You owe me."

Daisuke nods once, all storm and promise.

Behind the dugouts, the Anchors fans thunder out one last defiant chant: "Anchors Hold! We never drown! Anchors Hold! We never drown!"

Abril's final word before the feed cuts to adverts:

"One half gone — Primeport behind, but far from buried. The derby's drowning in possibility — and somewhere in that storm, a fightback might just be brewing."

And when the cameras pan to Harding — rain dripping down his nose, fists clenched — you'd bet your last coin he would go to War with twelve men if the System lets him.

End of First Half. Anchors Up or Anchors Sunk — we find out next.