Football Reborn: The Manager from the future

⚽ Football Reborn: The Manager from the Future

Chapter 62 – Kojo vs The GOAT Archive XI

There's pressure.

Then there's standing across from every legend who ever lived…

…and being told to beat them alone.

⚫ The Chamber of Echoes – Arena 7X

The moment Kojo stepped into the arena, the lights dimmed.

But not into darkness — into memory.

Giant holo-screens surrounded the pitch, showing ancient clips: Pelé's third World Cup in 1970… Maradona's Hand of God… Messi's solo run against Getafe… Ronaldo's overhead kick in Turin.

Then the clips morphed.

Became real.

Tangible.

Eleven silhouettes stood across the field.

Number 10… Pelé.

Number 10… Maradona.

Number 7… Cristiano.

Number 10… Messi.

And the rest? Legends spanning six decades, reconstructed from biometric data, style archives, and match simulations.

The GOAT Archive XI had entered the pitch.

📣 Match Rules – Impossibly Simple

Ada Basalt's voice hummed from above, cold and clinical:

"Single player vs AI archive composite."

"First to 1 goal."

"No offside. No substitutions. No resets."

Chuva's knuckles whitened on the railing.

"This is murder," he muttered.

But Kojo?

He cracked his neck. Tied his laces. Then whispered:

"Let's see if the past can learn from the future."

⚔️ Kickoff – Welcome to the Gauntlet

The whistle blew.

Kojo started with the ball.

He moved forward.

And immediately…

Messi pressed. Low center of gravity. Constant feints.

Cristiano came from the right. Speed, power, physicality.

Maradona shadowed the space between — ready to pounce.

Kojo juked left.

Maradona lunged.

Too early.

Kojo rolled the ball between Diego's legs — nutmegged the icon of Naples.

Chuva's jaw dropped.

But there were 10 more.

🌀 Pressure – Tactical Collapse

The Archive wasn't just eleven legends.

It was every system they ever played.

Pressing like Guardiola's Barça.

Breaking like Ferguson's United.

Defending like Sacchi's Milan.

They hunted.

Kojo spun, turned, backheeled into space — but the Archive adapted instantly.

Pelé intercepted.

Sent a pass to Zidane, who chipped it over to Ronaldo Nazário.

Shot on goal — just wide.

Kojo exhaled.

Close.

He had seen enough.

Time to stop playing football…

…and start hacking it.

🧠 Kojo's Plan – Glitch the System

He dropped deep. Let them press.

He played wrong passes — on purpose.

He invited tackles. Danced just out of reach.

Why?

Because the Archive was reactive. It mirrored patterns.

So he broke the pattern.

Feinted to nowhere. Paused mid-run. Juggled when he should've passed.

The Archive stumbled.

Cristiano paused, confused. Maradona hesitated. Messi overstepped.

Then Kojo launched.

⚡ The Run – 70 Meters of Madness

Ball glued to his foot.

First went Zidane — turned inside out by a double scissor.

Then Beckenbauer — outpaced by raw acceleration.

Then Cafu — sent spinning by a roulette so perfect it paused the crowd.

Kojo entered the box.

One-on-one.

With Messi.

The AI version of the man he'd idolized since childhood.

Messi stared. Calm. Waiting.

Kojo said nothing.

Then flicked the ball up…

And rainbow-flicked it over Messi's head.

Gasps.

Messi turned too late.

Kojo volleyed it in.

Top corner.

Goal.

1-0. Match over.

🤖 The Archive's Reaction

The GOATs didn't protest.

They simply… paused.

And began walking backward to their starting positions.

Chuva stared.

"Are they… resetting?"

Seraph responded:

"Negative. They are acknowledging superiority. AI protocol 93-X: Honor Exit."

The GOAT Archive XI faded into light.

Kojo stood alone on the field.

Sweating. Panting.

Smiling.

"Tell them," he said, pointing to the cameras.

"Tell the world: we're not copies. We're not simulations. We're real. And we're coming."

🔐 Ada's Second Key

Kojo emerged from the tunnel.

Ada handed him a key — identical to León's, except this one hummed with fire.

"The second gate," she said.

"One more, and the football council's control grid collapses."

Kojo looked over to Chuva.

Then up to the cameras.

And said:

"Who's next?"

🥁 The Next Match – A Surprise

But Ada only smirked.

"No more players," she said.

"For the final test…"

A door opened.

And through it walked a man.

No jersey.

Just a suit.

And a smirk.

Valerio Reign.

The chairman of the World Football Council.