God Of football

Chapter 794: The Epitome Of Football.

The first threads of sunlight crept into the room, slipping through the half-drawn curtains and stretching thin golden lines across the floor.

Izan stirred with a low groan, his body sluggish, as though weighed down by lead.

His eyelids fluttered open reluctantly, the world blurring into pale light and shadow.

He tried to shift, to roll onto his side, but his arm felt strangely dull and numb, almost like it hadn’t seen blood flow properly for hours.

He flexed his fingers, sluggish and heavy, before turning his head.

Olivia was there beside him, curled close on the floor.

One of her arms had draped across his torso in sleep, the other tucked against his side.

Her face was half-buried against him, her breathing even, her lips parted just slightly.

Strands of her dark hair lay scattered across her cheek and his shoulder, tickling faintly with every soft exhale.

The memory of last night came rushing back, pain so sharp it had buckled his chest, his body shuddering on the edge of breaking, and then blackness swallowing him whole.

He closed his eyes again, groaning quietly, letting the reminder pass through him.

For a long moment, he just lay there, staring at her.

”Why did you come down to the floor?” Izan muttered, causing Olivia to stir, but she still didn’t wake up.

Something in his chest tugged as carefully, he reached up and brushed the strands of hair from her face, his fingertips lingering on her temple.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, a soft whisper of contact, before settling back against the bean bag.

Silence held the room, soft, steady, safe, until he drew in a breath and thought, almost without realising it: MAX.

The air around him shifted faintly, like a ripple through glass, and the familiar presence blinked into being.

[Good morning, Izan.]

A translucent display unfurled above his vision, neat lines of text scrolling across the holographic pane.

His vitals pulsed in measured rhythms, heart steady, oxygen strong and blood pressure balanced.

Beneath that, a readout of his overall health, mood, and recovery status, each marked clean and green.

[Your condition has stabilised. No abnormalities detected.]

Izan exhaled through his nose, tension slipping a fraction from his shoulders.

Then another message appeared, bold and revolutionary.

[Congratulations. You have become the highest-rated player, ability-wise, in football history.]

He blinked at it, the words slow to sink in.

Before he could fully react, another line scrolled across the light.

[OVR has increased: 97.]

His chest tightened, not from fear this time but from the weight of what it meant.

[You are now recognised by the system as the Epitome of Football History under normal circumstances.]

The letters lingered, stark against the pale wash of morning light.

Izan lay there motionless, Olivia’s warmth pressed against his side, the sunlight brushing over both of them as though trying to ground him in something simpler and something human.

He let out a long sigh, eyes still on the OVR message.

”Max, open player Info,” Izan muttered as the system heeded, the new interface rolling down in front of his eyes.

PLAYER INFO

■■■■■■■■■

NAME: [IZAN MIURA HERNANDEZ]

AGE: [17]

HEIGHT: [1.88m (6’1”)]

PROFESSION: [FOOTBALLER]

STATUS: [SENIOR TEAM PLAYER]

TEAM: ARSENAL FC / SPAIN NATIONAL TEAM

SYSTEM EVALUATION: [THE BEST IN THE WORLD/ APEX OF FOOTBALL{BASE}]

PLAYER RATING: [97/100]

POSITION: [Wing forward / Attacking midfielder]

POTENTIAL: [100]{+}

LEGEND POINTS: [ 841,000/507,000 to Lv 5{Upgrade Available}]

SIMULATION POINTS: [970]

STAT POINTS: [0]

SUPER POINTS: [3.4]

⸻

ATTRIBUTES

■■■■■■■■■

Speed: 98→[101]

Body Control: 94

Spatial Awareness: 95

Technique: 94

Shooting: 94

Passing: 94→[100]

Body Strength: 90→[101]

Defending: 70

Weak Foot Strength: ★★★★★(5)

Skill Moves: ★★★★★(5)

⸻

SKILLS POSSESSED

■■■■■■■■■■■■

Stepovers: [Lv 3] 50% Completion

La Croqueta: [Lv 2] 40% Completion

Cruyff Turn: [Lv 3] 17% Completion

Roulette: [Lv 2] 64% Completion

Rabona: [Lv 1] 99% Completion

Sombrero: [Lv 2] 10% Completion

+

TRAITS

■■■■■■

trickster: Equipped (offline)

Incisive Pass: Equipped(online)

rocket: Equipped (offline)

Pinpoint accuracy: Equipped (online)

speedster: Equipped (online)

Knuckeball: Equipped(offline)

Phantom Step: Equipped(offline)

Moment Seeker {New} [Passive]

Mirror Dribble {New}: Equipped(Offline)

■■■■■■

The glowing message hung before his eyes, stark against the dim system interface, but one seemed to draw his attention more.

[You are now recognised by the system as the Epitome of Football History under normal circumstances.]

Izan blinked at it, exhaling through his nose.

”Epitome of Football History... under normal circumstances?” he muttered, brow furrowing.

”What the hell does that even mean?”

The system responded in its steady, almost detached tone, words forming neatly in his vision.

[It means that, at your baseline, under ordinary conditions, you are considered unstoppable. However, football is unpredictable. There exist moments when players transcend themselves, moments beyond what the norm dictates.]

”Transcend?” Izan repeated, sitting back a little, fingers curling against the carpet where he sat.

”Give me something clearer.”

[Examples: Kylian Mbappé in the 2022 World Cup Final against Argentina. Two goals in the space of ninety seconds, dragging his nation back from the brink. An eruption of ability that surpassed even his established level.]

Izan found himself nodding slowly as he remembered watching that match a few years ago, almost disbelieving how Mbappé seemed to bend the match to his will.

The system continued.

[Or you yourself, against Real Sociedad in the Copa del Rey. Do you recall?]

Izan’s eyes narrowed. ”The blackout game...”

[Correct. Your conscious memory blurred. Your body and instincts took over, executing actions beyond your active intent. You returned to awareness only after the goal was scored. That was a transcendent moment, an eruption beyond your baseline.]

He leaned back against the bed, letting the explanation sink in.

So the message wasn’t saying he was invincible, only that his ”normal” was already considered a peak most couldn’t reach.

But football always had those wild, impossible sparks where anyone could push past the expected.

”Got it,” he murmured at last, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

”I’m the bar, until someone breaks themselves past it. But that also means my ceiling of breaking my own bar is the highest in football.”

The system didn’t say anything, but the buzz he got was enough.

Satisfied, he swiped away from the rewards screen, flexing his fingers before backing out of the interface.

He navigated into the Personal tab, then slid over into the Player Info space, watching the data streams reform into his familiar profile.

Before he could go deeper, movement stirred in front of him.

Olivia shifted under the sheets, eyes blinking open as she yawned softly, then rolled halfway onto her side, squinting down at him.

”Why,” she mumbled in a half-sleepy, half-playful tone, ”is there a perfectly good bed... but you decided to curl up on the floor?”

Izan craned his neck up at her, lips twitching.

”Didn’t want to wake you.”

She propped herself on one elbow, the covers slipping down enough to reveal the teasing curve of her cleavage.

She caught his gaze, and a wicked little smile played at her lips.

”Mhm. Or maybe,” she said coyly, tilting her head, ”I was too much for you last night, and you needed space?”

He rolled his eyes, but her tone, the way her words danced, needled right past his restraint.

She leaned a little more forward, voice dipping lower.

”Am I too much for you, Izan? Is mommy too much?”

But the last words broke him.

With a sudden movement, he pushed up from the carpet and leaned over the edge of the bed, his lips crashing into hers.

Olivia squealed into the kiss, laughing even as his hands found her waist and pulled her close.

”Izan—” she tried to protest, but it dissolved into breathless giggles as he trailed kisses down her jaw, nipping lightly at her neck before she shoved his shoulder in mock resistance.

”You’re insufferable,” she laughed, though her hands were already tangling in his hair.

”And you,” Izan murmured between kisses, ”shouldn’t taunt me if you don’t want the consequences.”

Their playfulness spiralled, touches blending into cuddles, laughter mixing with half-stifled squeals.

Then, footsteps sounded outside.

Hori’s voice, muffled but clear, rang from outside and through the door.

”Oh my god... it can’t be happening in the morning too...”

The commotion inside froze.

Olivia slapped her hands over her mouth, wide-eyed, while Izan stifled a laugh, his forehead dropping against her shoulder.

A beat of silence, then he smacked her playfully on the ass, making her yelp in surprise.

”Where’d you even get this from?” he teased, whispering just loud enough.

”Sure wasn’t from your mom, she’s not exactly... endowed.”

Olivia snorted, covering her mouth with her hand to stop from laughing out loud.

”You’ve been checking out my mom, huh? You’re such an idiot,” she whispered, eyes sparkling.

”Come on,” Izan said, scooping her up suddenly, drawing another squeal from her as he carried her toward the bathroom.

”Izan!” she shrieked, giggling uncontrollably as he nudged the door open with his foot.

Her laughter and playful protests echoed as the bathroom door shut behind them, muffling the sounds of this teasing and her half-serious struggle.