Chapter 388 - 2 - 0

While everyone else was celebrating and buzzing with excitement, Astrid herself was finally regaining her composure.

She stood up straight, brushed off her uniform, and smoothed down her tails.

Then she turned toward Mika.

And glared.

The kind of glare that promised retribution, vengeance, and possibly a very uncomfortable conversation in the near future.

Mika met her gaze without flinching.

He knew exactly why she was looking at him like that.

He had used her weakness against her.

The truth of the matter was simple: Astrid’s fourth tail had a very specific spot at its very tip that was extremely sensitive.

Sensitive to the extent that even the lightest flicker of touch, the gentlest poke, the most casual brush against that exact spot would send her body into an immediate and involuntary reaction.

She would shiver uncontrollably. Her heart would race. Her face would flush a deep, unmistakable red.

It was, for all intents and purposes, the pleasure point of her entire body.

And Mika knew this because he had discovered it years ago, completely by accident, when they were younger.

He’d been messing around, grabbed her tail without thinking, and suddenly Astrid had turned into a shaking, blushing mess right in front of him.

It had been hilarious.

It had also been incredibly useful over the years.

Whenever Astrid got too aggressive, too overbearing, too much like an overprotective older sister who wouldn’t listen to reason, Mika would simply reach up and press that exact spot on her tail.

And instantly, she would collapse into a trembling, flushed, utterly incapacitated state, unable to do anything but shiver and make embarrassing sounds until he let go.

That was why she always held that tail so high.

She placed it at the highest peak, almost as if she was guarding that spot from the entire world.

But here was the strange thing—the thing that neither of them could explain

If anyone else touched that part of her tail, nothing happened.

Absolutely nothing.

It was just regular fur. Regular tail. Regular sensitivity.

The weakness only worked for Mika.

Only his touch. Only his fingers. Only his presence.

He didn’t understand how it worked.

But he knew it was real, and more importantly, he knew he could exploit it.

And exploit it he had.

Astrid’s eyes narrowed further, if that was even possible.

"You...." She said flatly. "...are the most shameless, most underhanded, most diabolical little brother in the entire history of sibling relationships."

"No little brother would ever exploit their older sister’s in front of an entire crowd just to win a stupid bet like you did. In fact—"

Mika scoffed, cutting her off.

"Well, I could say the same. No older sister would make it impossible for her little brother to win by covering up her entire body and blocking the whole goal with her tails."

He crossed his arms, matching her glare with one of his own.

"You can call me shameless all you want, Astrid. But you’re just as shameless as me."

She rolled her eyes so hard it looked physically painful before saying,

"Fine. Fine. You’ve got one point. Congratulations. But let me tell you something right now—that trick won’t work anymore."

She straightened her posture, and her tails began to move.

Mika watched as she carefully, rearranged her seven tails into a new formation.

The sensitive fourth tail—the one he had targeted—rose higher than all the others, positioning itself at the very top of the goal.

And then, one by one, the other six tails arranged themselves around it, covering it completely.

When she was finished, there was no way to reach that specific spot.

Not without going through at least three layers of other tails first.

Astrid looked at him with a taunting gaze, a smug smile playing at the corners of her lips.

The crowd, which had been celebrating moments ago, fell into uneasy murmuring.

"Oh no..."

"She covered up her weakness!"

"He can’t hit that spot anymore!"

"There’s only one shot left! One more shot and if he misses, it’s over!"

"There’s no way we can win now!"

"It’s all gone! We actually lost!"

The atmosphere shifted dramatically.

Hope drained from the faces of the demi-humans.

Confidence bloomed on the faces of the humans.

Nuri too, watching from the side, felt desperation creep into her heart.

She looked at Mika. She looked at Astrid’s impenetrable wall.

And then she made a decision.

She flew over to him quickly and pressed herself close to his ear.

"Mika." She whispered urgently. "Mika, I’ll do it."

He turned to look at her, surprised.

"I’ll go over there and blow some fire onto her tails."

Nuri continued, her voice trembling but determined.

"I know, I know—I’ll definitely be hunted down for this. I’ll probably have to go into hiding. Change my identity. Flee to another continent. Maybe another dimension. But—"

She took a deep breath.

"But I’ll do it. I’ll go and blow some fire onto her tails. Her tails might be strong, but my fire is just as strong as hers."

"I won’t destroy the entire thing—I’m not crazy—but I’ll burn a small patch. Just enough to give you an opening."

"And I know Astrid’s fur grows really fast too, so it shouldn’t be too big of a deal, right? She’ll grow it back eventually. It’s not like she’ll be permanently damaged or anything. So—"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her small body trembling even as she tried to project confidence.

"I’ll do it, Mika. I’ll do it for you."

Mika stared at her for a long moment.

Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.

He reached out and patted her head gently, ruffling her hair.

"It’s alright, Nuri. There’s no need to worry about that. Just leave it to me. I’ll take care of it."

Nuri blinked, confusion replacing fear.

"But how, Mika? How?! Astrid already covered up her weakness! There’s nothing you can do about it now! She’s going to stand there even if the world ends!"

Mika’s smile widened into something that could only be described as cocky self-assurance as he said,

"Just because she covered up one of her weaknesses doesn’t mean she’s done the same for all of them."

"After all, I know every single one of her weaknesses. Every. Single. One. And I know exactly how to exploit them."

With that, he started to take a few steps back from the ball.

The crowd noticed immediately and they went quiet again.

From one side of the crowd, doubters began to speak.

"There’s no way he can do it. That’s just impossible. She’s completely covered. There’s no opening. I don’t believe it at all."

"He got lucky once. That’s all it was. Luck. You can’t beat Lady Astrid with luck twice in a row."

"It’s over. It was a good run, but it’s over."

But from the other side, supporters pushed back.

"No, he can do it! He’s already created so many miracles today! He can do it once again!"

"I believe in him! After everything I’ve seen, I absolutely believe in him!"

"Wait—hold on a second." One student turned to another, frowning. "Weren’t you the one who hated Mika? Like, really hated him?"

"I swear you were so jealous of him being well-connected with all the top girls. You ranted about him constantly. You talked about him in your sleep, even."

The accused student shifted uncomfortably.

"That was...that was in the past."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really! That was before I saw him play! That was before I saw everything he could do!"

"I mean, sure, he has an amazing life and he’s connected to all the powerful girls and everything seems to go his way, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person at all!"

"He seems...actually kind of cool!"

The first student stared at him for a moment, then shrugged.

"Fair enough. I can’t argue with that."

And so the two sides remained—doubters and believers—all waiting in tense anticipation for what Mika would do next.

Mika took his position.

He looked at Astrid’s massive tail-barricade.

He looked back at the ball.

Then, right before everyone’s eyes, he began to run.

The crowd held their breath.

Here it came. The moment of truth. He was going to kick it with all his force, all his determination, just like before.

They were about to hear that thunderclap noise again.

They were about to witness another impossible feat of athleticism.

Mika’s leg swung forward.

And then—

Something shocking happened.

Something so unexpected, so utterly absurd that it crossed the line into outright comedy.

Instead of kicking the ball, Mika’s leg went right over it.

His foot connected with nothing but air.

His body, off-balance from the momentum, lurched forward. His arms windmilled uselessly. His eyes went wide with exaggerated surprise.

And then—

SMACK.

He face-planted directly into the ground.

The crowd gasped.

But if that wasn’t already enough, Mika did something even worse.

He grabbed his leg.

And in the most exaggerated, over-the-top, completely unbelievable tone, he began to scream.

"OH SHIT! MY LEG! MY LEG IS GONE! OH GOD, I SPRRAINED MY LEG! IT HURTS! IT HURTS SO MUCH! GOD DAMN IT, WHY DID I HAVE TO SPRAIN MY LEG LIKE THIS?!"

He clutched his leg dramatically, rolling back and forth on the ground like a fish out of water.

He groaned. He moaned. He writhed in pretend agony.

"SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE! SOMEONE CALL IT PLEASE! MY LEG IS GONE! I THINK I’M GOING TO HAVE TO GET AMPUTATED RIGHT NOW!"

He continued groaning and moaning, his performance reaching truly epic proportions.

And every single person in the crowd stared at him with completely deadpan expressions.

Not a single look of sympathy.

Not one.

It was so painfully, obviously, hilariously fake that even a blind person could have seen through it.

A student groaned loudly, slapping their forehead.

"What the hell is he doing right now?!"

"This is absolutely ridiculous! Does he think we’re stupid?!"

"He’s faking! He’s obviously faking! That’s the oldest trick in the book!"

"He’s making a joke of football! This is disgraceful!"

But then another student whispered thoughtfully.

"You know, though...this is actually pretty standard among footballers. I’ve seen professional players do this all the time. Diving, faking injuries, trying to get an advantage."

"In fact, by doing this, he’s making the game even more authentic. He’s a true player at heart."

The student next to him immediately smacked him on the back of the head.

"Shut up! Don’t you dare disgrace the name of football like that! This is not what the beautiful game is about!"

"Ow! I’m just saying—"

"SAY NOTHING!"

Around them, similar arguments broke out.

Some students were appalled at Mika’s blatant fakery. Others found it hilarious.

Most just watched with expressions of utter disbelief.

Even Nuri, who was generally supportive of Mika no matter what, could only stare with wide eyes and slowly shake her head.

"This is...such a horrible plan." She muttered under her breath. "There’s no way this is going to work. No way at all. This is—this is just embarrassing."

Regan sighed heavily, already reaching for his whistle.

He was about to blow it, to call this farce to an end, to announce that Mika’s ridiculous performance had failed and the match would continue—

But then something happened.

Something unbelievable.

That was—Astrid reacted to the performance.

Her entire demeanor shifted in an instant.

One moment, she had been standing there calmly, smugly, utterly confident in her victory.

The next moment, her eyes went wide. Her face paled. Her hands flew to her mouth.

And then—

"MIKA!"

She took a step forward.

Then another.

Then she was running—actually running—toward where Mika lay writhing on the ground.

"MIKA! MIKA, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"

The crowd’s jaws dropped collectively.

"WHAT?!"

"IS SHE—IS SHE ACTUALLY—"

"SHE’S BELIEVING IT?!"

"HOW?! HOW IS SHE BELIEVING THIS?!"

"IT’S SO OBVIOUSLY FAKE!"

But Astrid didn’t hear them. Astrid didn’t care.

All she could see was her little brother—her precious, stubborn, infuriating little brother lying on the ground, clutching his leg, screaming in pain.

She skidded to a stop beside him and dropped to her knees, her face filled with genuine concern and worry.

"Mika! Mika, are you alright?! Is your leg fine?! Oh god, oh god, this is—this is terrible!"

She reached out, her hands hovering over his leg, afraid to touch it, afraid to make it worse.

"It’s alright, it’s alright! Big Sister is here! Big Sister will take care of you! There’s nothing to worry about!"

She turned to look at her tails, and one of them immediately moved forward, fluffing up and gently wrapping around Mika’s leg.

"There! My tail! It’ll feel much better, I promise! It’s very soft and very soothing! Just relax, little brother! Don’t move! Don’t do anything!"

"Just let Big Sister handle everything!"

Then she whipped her head around toward the crowd, and her expression transformed from worried to absolutely furious.

"WHAT ARE YOU ALL JUST STANDING THERE FOR?! CALL AN AMBULANCE! CALL AN AMBULANCE FOR MY LITTLE BROTHER RIGHT NOW!"

She glared at them with the fury of a thousand suns.

"How can you be so merciless?! My little brother is suffering here! He’s in pain! He needs help! And you’re all just gaping and staring like a bunch of—of—"

She sputtered, unable to find words strong enough for her rage.

"Call the ambulance! Now! That’s an order!"

The crowd stared in utter, complete, total disbelief.

Whispers broke out immediately.

"Is she...is she serious right now?"

"She’s actually falling for it!"

"This is insane! This is absolutely insane!"

"How can she not see it?! It’s so obvious!"

"Wait...That’s actually kind of sweet? In a completely ridiculous way?"

"Sweet?! This is pathetic! She’s a SSS-Class Blessed! She’s supposed to be untouchable! And she’s falling for the most obvious fake injury in history?!"

But Astrid didn’t hear any of it.

She was too focused on Mika.

She gently stroked his hair, her expression tender and worried.

"It’s okay, little brother. It’s okay. Big Sister is here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I won’t let it."

She leaned down, reaching for his leg to examine it more closely, her face soft with tender concern.

And that was when Mika struck.

Right as her hands touched his leg, right as she was completely focused on his ’injury,’ right as her guard was absolutely and totally down—

He smirked.

Then he turned his head and shouted:

"TAKE THE SHOT NOW, NURI! TAKE THE SHOT!"

"TAKE THE SHOT NOW WHILE SHE’S DISTRACTED!"

Nuri froze.

Her eyes went wide. Her wings stopped fluttering. Her brain short-circuited.

Everyone looked at her.

Astrid, still crouched beside Mika, looked up in confusion.

"What—"

"JUST TAKE THE SHOT!" Mika screamed again. "TAKE THE SHOT BEFORE SHE RECOVERS! NOW, NURI! NOW!"

And Nuri, running purely on nerves and instinct and absolute panic, did the only thing she could do.

She flew to the ball.

She lined up.

And she kicked.

Thump!

Unfortunately, ut was not a good kick at all.

It was shaky. Wobbly. Completely lacking in power or precision. The ball rolled forward at a pace so slow that a snail could have outrun it.

Nuri’s face went pale.

This was going to be the most embarrassing moment of her life.

She was going to miss an empty goal.

An empty goal with the goalkeeper completely distracted. And she was going to miss.

Her reputation would be destroyed.

She would never live this down.

But just as she was despairing—

The ball rolled.

And rolled.

And rolled.

And finally—

It crossed the line.

For a long moment, no one moved. No one spoke. No one even breathed.

They just stared at the ball sitting innocently in the goal.

Then—

Fweeeet!

Regan’s whistle cut through the air.

He stood there for a moment, his expression dazed, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had just witnessed.

Then, slowly, he raised his arm and pointed to the center of the field.

"Two-zero..."

He announced, his voice carrying across the stunned crowd.

"...It’s Mika and Nuri’s win."