CHAPTER 83: CHAPTER 83

Kazana adjusted the ball in the center circle. Sanu’s captain took a deep breath, eyes narrowed toward Zenkai’s goal. The roar of Zenkai’s supporters still echoed like thunder around the stadium, while Diego, still red with fury, slowly returned to his half, muttering curses only he could hear.

The whistle blew.

Kazana gave the first touch to Dante, and the match resumed.

Sanu’s midfielder, firm and composed, carried the ball a few meters, turning his body and opening it to Ian. They needed to regain emotional control, to breathe, to make the ball run. The worst thing they could do was throw themselves into desperation right after conceding.

But the pressure of the opposing crowd only pushed them deeper into that despair.

Diego was still celebrating on the other side, gesturing to the stands, pounding his chest as if silently shouting that the pitch was his territory. Oliveira, impassive, followed him with his eyes, rising like an unshakable shadow, as if saying without words: “You won’t repeat that against me.”

The stands were split between ecstasy and tense silence.

Samuel was on his feet, arms crossed, veins bulging on his neck.

"They need to control possession now. They need to build a play"

Samuka agreed, smacking his forehead.

"Exactly. This Diego looks like a wild animal. He even reminds me of a hyper dog, with pure rage"

Matheus Rios, seated in front of them, bounced his leg anxiously. The former Sanu captain seemed to see an extremely tense battle unfolding, especially for Sanu.

"I’ve been through situations like this, and I can imagine the feeling they’re going through right now"

Rafael Duarte, laughing nervously, added:

"And to think I used to complain when I had to chase Kazana in training... He’ll manage to keep the team under control at times like this. He had a great example right here," he said, nudging Matheus.

On the field, Dante spun again, lightly dribbling past Biel, who pressed high. Dante lifted his head, saw Rodrigo wide on the right, and passed.

Rodrigo received it, held the ball with the sole of his boot, and immediately felt Mateus closing in, Zenkai’s center back cutting the space. Rodrigo dropped it back to João Vitor, who returned it to Dante. Sanu’s midfield moved the ball side to side, trying to breathe, searching for gaps in the opposing wall.

Kazana, already further forward, pointed with his hand:

"Calm! Swing it around! Don’t panic!"

But Zenkai pressed with intensity. Biel charged like a guard dog, Luquinhas cut spaces with short, calculated steps, and Diego, still with blood in his eyes, chased the buildup as if he wanted to devour every Sanu defender.

That’s when Dante found Ian, who, bolder, decided to risk it. He accelerated, escaping Luquinhas’s marking, and found a corridor through the middle. The stadium held its breath. Ian lifted his head and launched a long, curving pass, aiming for Felipe on the right wing.

Felipe controlled with flair, gluing the ball to his foot. He looked up and crossed first-time, targeting Kazana in the box.

The ball came venomous, fast, slicing between Biel and Mateus. Kazana rose with everything, his entire body tense, muscles screaming. Sanu’s captain, despite being short, soared above the defenders and headed firmly.

The ball crashed against Biel’s chest, who had thrown himself at the last second to block. The rebound spilled at the edge of the box. Rodrigo struck first-time, but the ball deflected off Luquinhas’s leg and spun upward, climbing into the air.

The stadium went insane. It was perfect chaos, as if time had returned to Camp Nou in 1999, in those moments when Manchester United and Bayern fought for every inch with tooth and nail.

Murilo, in Sanu’s goal, was already on his toes, alert. But now it was Zenkai’s keeper who suffered: every blocked shot, every ball bouncing in the box, every rebound seemed ready to decide fate.

Felipe, who had crossed, rushed for the second ball. He controlled it on his chest, set it, and shot hard. Mateus, with a warrior’s courage, hurled himself at it, blocking with his thigh. The ball fell to Ian, who struck first-time from distance. Zenkai’s keeper dove and parried forward.

The rebound dropped once more inside the box. Kazana hurled himself at it, but Biel managed a desperate clearance, only partially.

Rodrigo, ever alert, recovered at the D. He controlled, feinted, and shot again, but once more the ball deflected—this time off Diego, sprinting back with everything to help the defense.

The stadium erupted in screams, every fan with their heart in their mouth.

Samuel roared from the stands:

"They have to take advantage! They have to take advantage!"

Samuka, punching the air, added:

"Yes! Don’t stop pressing! Keep going, keep going!"

Matheus Rios, goosebumps rising, murmured with a gleam in his eyes:

"This is real football... This pressure, this chaos... It makes me want to jump into the match."

Rafael Duarte, nervous, laughed nonstop:

"I’m going crazy here. It feels like a replay of that Flamengo vs River Plate Libertadores final."

On the field, Kelvin leapt to contest a ball dropping into the box again. He clashed with Mateus, won the body duel, and managed to head it down to Kazana. Sanu’s captain spun, struck hard, but Zenkai’s keeper, with pure reflex, tipped it with his fingertips.

The ball crashed off the post!

The metallic echo rang through the stadium like thunder, every heart stopping for a moment.

The ball bounced alive, spinning in the box like a bomb about to explode. Dante sprinted, leg winding for the strike, but Biel, sliding, intercepted at the last second, sending it out for a corner.

The stadium roared in unison—half in relief, half in despair.

Rodrigo rushed to grab the ball, breathless, sweat dripping down his face. His eyes shone with pure adrenaline. He knew Sanu was close, and he could not stop.

As he walked to the corner flag, he heard Kazana shouting in the box:

"Come on, fuck! This is our moment!"

Oliveira raised his fist, calling everyone to war.

On the other side, Diego, still breathless from his earlier celebration, growled through his teeth, glaring at Oliveira and Kazana with burning hatred.

Luquinhas, however, remained calm, adjusting Zenkai’s shape, shouting to Mateus and Biel:

"Close the space! Every second counts now!"

The crowd never stopped. The stadium was boiling, divided between two forces clashing like titans, each trying to impose its will on the other.

Rodrigo took a deep breath, placed the ball for the corner, and stepped back a few paces while the referee tried to organize the chaos in the box.

Sanu was ready for another attack.