Michael Kaiser. Stood there dumbfounded as he stares at you, his face masked with surprise from your presence. He remembers you – the plaything of his sixteen-year-old self, the freshman he tormented in high school.

"The match will begin in thirty minutes," a woman's voice announces, cutting through the pre-game buzz. He never expected you to be here, let alone playing against his team, the legendary "Bastard München" himself during the Neo-Egoist League. You and your team playing for a different country.

A flicker of something – grudging admiration? – crosses his face before hardening into disgust. You're still just a lowlife to him, beneath his notice, regardless of your success. He's 'the Emperor'; he's better than you, better than anyone.

The stadium explodes with cheers as the teams take the field – Bastard München versus The Angels Tenshi, two biggest Under 20(U-20) teams clashing in Europe. The tension is thick, a palpable energy that vibrates through the stands.

As the ball placed in the center field, in front of you and the opposing cf, Michael Kaiser. Your eyes locked with Kaiser's, a sudden, sharp connection across the field. Recognition flares – a demonic nightmare from your past. You thought you'd escaped him, left those dark days behind.

His cocky smirk widens, a cruel mockery that replays his "memorable" high school abuse. He's relishing this, the chance to humiliate you, not just in front of the school, but the whole entire world. The thrill of crushing you, of proving his superiority, is written all over his face. The need grows furthermore within Kaiser.

"Nice to see you again, Winzling." he muttered, his teeth showing off in arrogance and pride to beat you in front of the whole entire public world watching on screen.

The whistle blows, a sharp sound of the ball being shook inside the whistle that made every player in the field on high alert. And the game begins.