Immortality Starts From Making Money. Chapter 373: Three goals Down

The match was in full swing. Fifteen minutes into the ga, the Black Spider Team was already leading by two goals to nil.

Their fans were on their feet, screaming as they watched the beautiful ga unfold before their eyes.

Compared to their first match, the Black Spider Team played with far better coordination and confidence.

Their movents were fluid, their passes deliberate, and their formations disciplined.

They knew exactly what they were doing, unlike the Chen Clan Team, whose play lacked cohesion and clarity.

Watching the ga from the stands or through a replay crystal was entirely different from playing on the pitch.

The expectations.

The crowd’s chants.

The deafening boos.

It was overwhelming.

The Chen Clan players tried to follow their training and stick to their ga plan, desperately attempting to avoid mistakes. Yet the more they tried to maintain control, the more errors crept into their play.

Missed passes.

Overhit crosses.

Poor timing.

Confusion among teammates.

Everything seed to collapse at once.

Standing by the sideline, the Chen Matriarch watched the chaos with a cold expression. Her sharp eyes missed nothing.

Veins throbbed faintly at her temple as she gritted her teeth.

"Relax and follow the plan!" she shouted, her voice cutting sharply through the noise.

But her words were swallowed by the roaring crowd. The players were too overwheld to heed her instructions.

They were being swallowed whole by the audience’s cries and the crushing pressure weighing down on their backs.

While the Chen Matriarch struggled to suppress a rising headache, the Black Spider Gang leader stood on the opposite sideline with a broad smile.

His hands were clasped behind his back as he watched his n execute his strategy to near perfection.

To him, this was no ordinary match.

This was a declaration.

A statent of force.

He wanted the city to understand that although he was a gangster, his vision and strategic thinking were no less refined than those of any clan leader.

He might have lost the first match, but this ga, this performance was enough to prove his worth.

The match pressed on, and the audience savored every mont.

Inside the VIP chambers, mbers of the noble clans watched with rapt attention.

Unlike the traditional martial competitions they were accustod to, this spectacle was entirely different.

Here, strength alone was not enough.

A single mont of hesitation could change the entire flow of the ga.

The pass.

The dribble.

The feint.

The shot.

Every movent was purposeful. Every decision carried weight. Even those who had arrived rely to investigate the mysterious force behind this strange new sport found themselves captivated.

More than that, the crowd’s collective reactions, the roaring cheers when a shot nearly scored and the groans when a chance was squandered, stirred their blood with an unfamiliar exhilaration.

This was not about cultivation realms or devastating techniques.

This was pure competition.

They had never imagined that a mortal ga, devoid of flashy martial arts or spiritual techniques, could be this thrilling.

Inside a Tier-3 VIP chamber, a middle-aged man stood respectfully beside a young man seated in the main chair.

The young master’s eyes were fixed on the field, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

"Young Master," the middle-aged man asked in a low, respectful voice, "what do you think of the ga?"

The young master did not answer imdiately. His gaze followed a Black Spider midfielder advancing with the ball, head lifted, surveying the field with keen awareness.

Three teammates were already sprinting along the flanks, creating passing lanes and drawing defenders away. In contrast, the Chen Clan players rushed blindly toward the ball carrier, ignoring the unmarked players slipping into dangerous positions.

"How can they be this foolish?" the young master muttered, irritation evident in his tone.

To him, it was an elentary mistake, sothing even a novice should not make.

Why focus solely on the man with the ball while neglecting the others?

What about others?

What about anticipation?

The butler stiffened at the young master’s expression. A bead of cold sweat slid down his back.

Did I say sothing wrong?

Perhaps I should not have spoken so abruptly.

He silently regretted opening his mouth.

At that mont, the young master finally turned his gaze toward him.

"Although this ga looks simple," he said slowly, "that simplicity is only on the surface."

"There are many layers beneath it."

The butler blinked, montarily unsure how to respond. He quickly forced a flattering smile.

"Young Master, do you think the Chen Clan will lose?"

"If they continue playing like fools, then of course," the young master replied without hesitation before returning his attention to the match.

The butler swallowed hard.

He had never expected his young master to beco so invested in what he had initially dismissed as a strange mortal pasti.

On the field, ti slipped by unnoticed.

Before anyone realized it, the referee signaled halfti. The Black Spider Team remained ahead by two goals.

So of their fans complained about the missed opportunities that could have extended the lead further.

Still, most were satisfied with the scoreline.

As the players retreated to their respective sides, many spectators stood to stretch their legs.

The stadium buzzed with excited discussions.

Speculation.

Criticism.

Boasts.

anwhile, in the Chen Clan’s temporary locker area, tension hung thick in the air.

The players avoided eye contact with their matriarch. Their uniforms were damp with sweat, their breathing heavy, not just from exertion, but from pressure.

"Have you forgotten everything you trained for?" the Chen Matriarch demanded coldly. "Stop chasing the ball like headless chickens. Mark your zones. Watch the wings. Communicate."

Her gaze swept over them.

"If you lose your composure, you lose the ga."

They nodded stiffly, sha burning in their chests.

Soon, the referee’s whistle pierced the air once more.

The second half began.

The Black Spider fans erupted imdiately, drums pounding and trumpets blaring. Their chants echoed louder than ever, shaking the very walls of the old arena.

In contrast, the Chen Clan supporters were subdued. So lowered their heads, while others clenched their fists in silent frustration.

The taunts from the Black Spider side grew increasingly bold.

The ga resud with fierce intensity.

Five minutes into the second half, the Black Spider Team earned a corner kick.

The stadium grew tense.

The corner was taken in a manner that seed ordinary at first glance. The ball arced gracefully through the air toward the crowded penalty area.

Ti seed to slow.

Players jostled for position.

Two Chen defenders leaped, attempting to intercept.

But between them, a Black Spider forward rose even higher.

His timing was impeccable.

His neck muscles tightened as his forehead connected solidly with the ball.

Huh!

The impact redirected the ball sharply toward the net.

The Chen goalkeeper reacted a fraction too late. He leaped desperately, fingertips straining.

But it was futile.

The ball slamd into the back of the net.

For a heartbeat, there was silence.

Then the stadium exploded.

"GOOOOOOOOOAL!"

"GOOOOOOOOOAL!"

"THREE — NIL!"