King of the Pitch: Reborn to Conquer

Minute 36.

Just after Lucas Ortega's goal shook the net, the call came from the sidelines.

Julian had already finished warming up. His calves were still buzzing with tension, sweat clinging to his brow, heart steady but sharp.

The substitution board flashed.

OUT: Ricky Zhang.

IN: Julian Ashford.

Cheers rippled faintly through the crowd—more curiosity than celebration.

Coach Owens gave a simple nod. "You're in."

Julian jogged to the line. Each stride across the turf sounded louder in his ears than it should've. Not because he was nervous.

But because it was time.

It wasn't an official match. No screaming fans. No cameras. No trophies waiting at the end.

But it was still a match.

And a lion never underestimated his prey.

He stepped onto the pitch like it was a battlefield. His eyes locked onto the ball. Onto Lucas. Onto the defenders who had been laughing just a minute ago.

The air had weight now. The kind of tension that always came before blood or brilliance.

Julian inhaled deep, grounding his senses. The field wasn't just painted lines and fresh grass—it was alive. It pulsed with intent.

And now, so did he.

Let them see.

Let them stare.

Let them try.

Because from this moment on...

He would show them why the lion doesn't roar—until it's already too late.

Julian stepped over the white line and into the fire.

As he crossed paths with Ricky, the older boy offered a quick pat on the shoulder and a low warning.

"Careful of Dominic," Ricky muttered, eyes flicking toward the towering center back.

Julian didn't blink.

"Let me," he said quietly.

And then—

[Activating Scan Lv.1…]

His gaze swept across the field. The system fed him raw numbers, clean and brutal:

Most players hovered between 120–130 total attributes—average for high schoolers. But then—

User: Dominic Reyes

Position: CB

Age: 17

Total Attributes: 191

User: Lucas Ortega

Position: ST

Age: 17

Total Attributes: 186

Julian's pupils narrowed. Two threats. One behind him. One in front.

He nodded, calm.

And took his place at the front of the formation—the tip of the spear.

It was his first official step into a real game. No drills. No controlled setups. Just chaos, pressure, and stakes. This was football.

Coach Owens folded his arms from the sideline, eyes locked on the field.

His voice was quiet, but firm. "Let's see what you've got, kid."

Beside him, Crest stood with her usual guarded posture, arms crossed beneath the edge of her blazer. Her voice came low, sharp.

"Will he be alright?" she asked.

Coach Owens didn't look away from the pitch.

"He might be an amateur—but he's got instincts like a warrior. And warriors don't panic in fire."

The referee raised his whistle.

Prrrttt!

The match resumed.

And the hunt began.

The whistle's echo had barely faded when Julian sprang forward.

The kickoff rolled back, but Julian wasn't watching the ball—he was drawing battle lines. In his mind, this wasn't turf. It was a battlefield.

He wasn't a football player. He was a martial artist in enemy territory.

[Activating Rule The Pitch – Lv.1: +3 To All Attributes]

+3 wouldn't strain him much. Not yet. Just enough to sharpen his edge.

Base Attributes: 84

+2 (Martial Memory – Passive) → 86

+3 (Rule The Pitch – Active) → 121

A beginner on paper—but right now? 121 was enough.

Enough to move like a shadow.

Julian shifted through El Monte's defensive shape like he'd studied it for years—slipping into the blind spot between their left center back and fullback.

He didn't raise a hand.

He didn't call for it.

He moved like the ball already belonged to him.

Leonardo Luz saw it. Instantly.

The Lincoln captain didn't even glance. Just felt the opening.

A subtle touch. A pivot.

A through pass—carved like a blade.

The ball tore through the grass, curling perfectly into Julian's path like it had always belonged there.

One touch.

Two.

It clicked.

El Monte's backline jolted.

"TRACK BACK!"

"LEFT SHOULDER!"

"WHO IS THAT?!"

Julian didn't answer.

He was already past them.

He didn't care about their shouts. Their panic. Their disbelief.

But he knew one thing—they'd underestimated him.

And what did the underestimated do best?

Miracles.

He saw Dominic Reyes from afar—the towering center back with a frame like a moving fortress.

Dominic shifted out from the center line, his movement mechanical but brutal—a tank coming alive. Each stride long, methodical, reinforced by thick legs and a wide base.

The beast had entered the ring.

Julian didn't flinch.

Didn't slow.

Their eyes locked.

Come to me.

Try to stop me.

Julian didn't plan to outrun him. That would be suicide.

Not in a straight line.

Not against a wall.

Instead, he cut early.

A feint to the right—then a slice back inside. Just outside the penalty box.

Dominic saw it—barely—and lunged forward.

Too eager. Too confident. Too late.

Julian's eyes narrowed.

[Activating Rule The Pitch – Lv.1: +16 To All Attributes]

Base: 84

+2 (Martial Memory – Passive)

+16 (Active Boost) → Total: 210

It was reckless. It hurt.

But it was beautiful.

At the final heartbeat, Julian dipped his shoulder—then spun the ball behind his own standing leg.

A reverse drag-back.

A master's bait.

Dominic lunged—and caught nothing but air.

His cleats scraped turf. His balance collapsed.

Julian ghosted by him.

The bench roared. The crowd gasped.

Just as he reached the edge of the box, Julian reduced the strain—back to +3. His heart still pounded. Muscles coiled.

But he wasn't done.

Two defenders collapsed on him, one from the left, one from the right.

Julian didn't hesitate.

[Activating Rule The Pitch – Lv.1: +10 To All Attributes]

Speed surged. Power surged.

He split the defenders with a razor turn.

And shot.

Bang.

The ball flew—a cannon shot masked in elegance.

It arched with perfect spin, a rising whip toward the far post.

The goalkeeper leapt—full stretch.

Desperate.

Too slow.

Too late.

GOAL.

The net snapped.

The silence that followed was heavier than any cheer.

From substitute.

To statement.

Julian Ashford had arrived.

And El Monte had just felt his first roar.