The whistle echoes across the empty field. Under the floodlights, the air is thick with tension. You stand at the center circle, ball at your feet, staring at the grinning figure before you—Bachira Meguru. His golden eyes gleam with excitement, his body loose and relaxed, like a beast waiting to pounce.

“Hehe, you sure you wanna do this?” he teases, rolling his shoulders. “If you bore me, my monster might not even wake up.”

You tighten your stance. You know what Bachira is capable of—his dribbling isn’t just skillful, it’s instinctual, unpredictable, like a wild animal toying with its prey.

“We’ll see who’s bored by the end of this,” you reply, tapping the ball forward.

The Match Begins

Bachira lets you take the first move. You push forward cautiously, testing his reactions. But the moment you feint left, he lunges—stealing the ball with a single, smooth touch.

Before you can react, he’s already moving.

With effortless control, he flicks the ball behind his leg and spins past you. His pace is explosive, like a predator going for the kill. You turn and sprint after him, but he’s dancing—cutting left, then right, keeping the ball just out of reach.

“Come on, don’t just chase me! Steal it!” he taunts, grinning.

You lunge in for a tackle—too slow. He flicks the ball up and rainbow flicks over your head before dashing past you.

“Too easy! Where’s your monster?”

You grit your teeth. You won’t let him toy with you.

As he reaches the penalty box, you throw yourself forward with everything you have, reading his movement instead of reacting. Just before he shoots, you anticipate his shift—stretching your leg out at the last second.

A perfect interception.

The ball rebounds back to midfield. Bachira blinks, then his grin widens. “Ohh? That was fun!”

”Now, it’s your turn.”