Chapter 28 NTR Guy, The End

NTR Guy, The End

Akagi’s PoV

After the last practice and the announcement of the team roster changes, I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t accept that someone like me had been demoted to Team B.

With a match approaching, I confronted the coach.

“Coach, why did you demote me to Team B? This makes no sense.”

The coach stared at me for a moment, then sighed and replied in a calm voice.

“It’s the result of a discussion with the manager. Lately, your performance has been declining, and your poor attitude has been noticeable. We’ve decided that unless you change your ways, you won’t make it in the future.”

What the hell? I don’t get it…

That’s just personal bias, isn’t it?

You demoted me because you’re pissed at me, right?

“…I can’t accept it.”

“Soccer is a team sport. Individual skill is important, but team coordination is crucial. Your current attitude is having a negative impact on the team. So, I want you to spend some time on Team B, go back to basics, and work on self-improvement. This is a message from the manager.”

“…Tch.”

There was no point in continuing the conversation.

Since the manager and coach had made that decision, no matter what I said, it wouldn’t change.

In that case, I’ll just have to prove my skills.

I fixed my gaze on the opponent in front of me.

A match was about to start.

I would deliver results here and get back to Team A as quickly as possible.

I don’t have time to waste here!

If I score a hat trick in this match, the coach and manager will have no choice but to put me back on Team A.

Haah, it’s easy.

Scoring against lower-level opponents is a piece of cake for me.

I psyched myself up and said to my teammates on the pitch.

“Hey, later, pass the ball to me.”

Of course, my teammates would listen to me.

Because I’m the king, and the others are just extras to support me.

However, their reaction was different from what I expected.

“What are you ordering us around for, loser? Don’t act all high and mighty.”

What did you just say?

One teammate spoke out, and a few others nodded in agreement, shooting me cold glares.

The atmosphere suddenly turned sour.

You’ve gotta be kidding me…

Calling someone like me a loser?

In the end, I couldn’t have a proper conversation with my teammates, and the match began.

As a starting forward, I positioned myself to aim for the goal and appealed to my teammates for the ball, signaling that I was open. However, my teammates kept passing to others, ignoring me.

“Hey! Pass me the ball!!”

I shouted involuntarily. Still, no pass came.

Ignoring me?!

The reality of the situation started to sink in.

Why aren’t they passing me the ball?

Is it because of what happened earlier?

What the hell…

I desperately changed positions and called out to my teammates, but they avoided even looking at me.

I started to feel anxious and realized I was isolated.

The match continued, but I was treated as if I didn’t exist, unable to touch the ball even once.

“Damn it…”

I muttered, frustrated at being completely ignored. My teammates’ indifference deepened my isolation.

On the sidelines, I noticed the coach watching me intently.

(Well, Akagi… What will you do now? Building relationships with your teammates is part of your skill set. You’ve alienated them with your arrogance and behavior. You must either change or prove your worth through overwhelming talent. Without one or the other, you won’t return to Team A.)

Oh, so that’s it, huh?

I suddenly realized. This isn’t just punishment; it’s a test. The coach is watching how I handle this. He’s testing whether I can grow and overcome adversity.

Bold of him…

But fine.

I’ll show you my strength.

I saw an opening when the opponent’s footwork faltered and stole the ball calmly. I immediately started dribbling. Spotting open space ahead, I surged forward, seizing the chance.

I accelerated toward the goal, driving my feet forward.

But the opposing defenders reacted swiftly, surrounding me and applying pressure.

I tried to break through with feints, but I ended up losing the ball.

At that moment, I heard a voice from a teammate.

“What are you doing, Akagi? I was open!”

His voice was filled with anger and disappointment.

Shut up…

You don’t pass to me, yet you demand the ball.

This is a matter of pride.

Either I break or my teammates break first.

But I have no intention of compromising with my inferior teammates.

In the worst-case scenario, I’ll show my skills alone—

Yet, as the match progressed, my play became more and more erratic.

Every time I got the ball, I grew impatient, trying to make a big play.

But that impatience led to mistakes, worsening the situation further.

I was angry and disappointed in my own inability to dominate even a lower-ranked team.

Since when…? When did things become like this?

As I lost the ball again in midfield, a voice echoed in my head.

(You’re finished.)

…Shut up. I’m going to be a pro, the world’s best striker.

(That’s impossible.)

If I do that, even Shirasaki Kanade will have no choice but to acknowledge me.

(You’re just a sc🬀🬀🬀ag who steals other people’s girlfriends.)

Shut up!

What’s wrong with taking someone else’s woman?

That kind of resolve is needed to become a world-class striker!

(You’re confusing arrogance with ambition, fool.)

What do you know?!

I forcibly silenced the voice in my head.

Just before the end of the first half, as the opponent prepared a long ball, I sprinted forward, determined to intercept it.

I hadn’t performed well so far, but I had to steal this ball and start a counterattack.

But my timing was completely off.

Unable to avoid contact, my body twisted unnaturally as I forced the tackle.

A sharp pain shot through my leg, and I fell to the ground.

The intense pain pierced my brain, and an involuntary scream escaped my lips.

“Aaahhhhh!”

I clutched my leg, writhing helplessly.

Play was immediately stopped, and my teammates approached, but their initial expressions lacked concern.

“Are you okay? You’re exaggerating, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t respond to their voices because of the pain.

Many players exaggerate injuries.

They probably thought I was doing the same.

But I wasn’t faking it.

One of them looked at my leg and froze.

“This is bad—it’s broken!”

The moment I heard that, I realized something was terribly wrong.

Afraid to look, I noticed my leg bent unnaturally in the wrong direction.

What the hell… what happened to me?

As I lay there, the severity of my injury and the fear of what it meant for my future career overwhelmed me.

My body trembled, cold sweat dripping down my face.

This wasn’t just an injury.

The pain was so intense that even breathing felt difficult.

My vision began to blur.

The noise around me seemed distant and surreal.

No way…

Is this the end for me?

I asked the question, but no answer came.

It seemed the gods of soccer had completely abandoned me.