God Of football

Chapter 928: Part Of Something Revolutionary.

Izan stepped forward and shook the man’s hand with a firm, confident grip.

”Oda,” the man said. ”Director of motion and capture.”

”Izan,” he replied, even though everyone here already knew.

Oda didn’t waste time.

He launched into an explanation of how the cameras stitched movement together, how shutter speed affected clarity, how micro-adjustments in lens calibration decided whether a fast runner looked sharp or smeared.

Most footballers would have nodded politely until the words washed past them.

Izan asked questions instead.

Sharp ones.

He pointed at one of the stands and asked about latency at longer distances.

He guessed how the system handled overlapping motion when the subject accelerated.

He even pointed out the margin of error when the lighting changed as clouds drifted over.

Oda paused halfway through an answer.

”You weren’t kidding about knowing the tech side.”

”I like understanding what’s looking at me,” Izan said, to which he received a low grumble from his system, which had given him an overview before the meet.

A few feet behind them, Kenji folded his arms and muttered, ”This kid is quite the character.”

He said it quietly, but the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth was loud enough.

By the time they reached the touchline, Izan and Oda were talking like they had worked together for years.

Oda gestured toward the half of the pitch where the obstacle course had been set up.

Slalom poles.

Weighted mannequins.

Angled boards meant to deflect the ball back at strange spins, while a few huge cameras in the stands, aside from the ones already on the pitch, blinked their tiny red lights.

”So that’s the whole process,” Oda said, finishing his rundown.

”It’s intriguing,” Izan replied.

”It is. For now, get a feel for the course. Take it easy.”

Izan looked at the poles.

”Why take it easy when I can go a bit all out?”

Oda let out a breath that sounded like a half-laugh.

”All right then.”

He raised his hand to his staff, who immediately got to work, running around and setting things up. After the green light was given, Oda said, ”Action.”

Izan exploded forward with warning or build-up.

Just pure acceleration.

The staff reacted with startled sounds that slipped out before they could catch themselves.

Izan weaved through the first set of poles with the ball glued to his foot.

He shifted his weight in crisp motions and cut through the tight gaps with barely a step wasted.

Every change of pace was sharp and smooth, and he read the rebounds from the angled boards before they even came back to him.

In the stands, the cameras struggled.

Their motors whirred harder than expected.

Oda’s assistants watched the monitors with stiff jaws as frames clipped and jittered from the sudden burst of speed they weren’t prepared for.

While Kenji dragged a hand down his face from the sides.

”They set it to sixty. Of course, they set it to sixty.”

Izan finished the run with a clean stop, then jogged back while the staff stared at him like he had cost them their project.

Oda stood frozen for a moment.

He blinked twice and finally spoke.

”I told you to take it easy because the cameras are still at sixty frames. They weren’t ready for that.”

Izan walked up beside him.

”Right. Let me see.”

Oda brought up one of the plays where the screen showed Izan blurring in the tight turns, his body jumping a few inches every couple of frames.

It wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t clean either.

”So it caught me, but not cleanly,” Izan said.

”Exactly. You’re moving past the shutter too fast for this setting.”

Izan smiled, the kind that looked more like a challenge to himself.

”So we go again.”

Oda nodded.

”Yeah. But properly this time.” He turned toward his staff.

”Full capacity. All cameras at two forty. Everything synced. Overlap the tracking lines and give me clean coverage.”

His assistants scrambled like someone had hit a fire alarm, while Oda raised his hand again.

”Ready. Action.”

Izan burst forward again.

Faster than before.

It was almost like he was trying to stay ahead of the new frame rate while the cameras whirred at a higher pitch.

The staff leaned in while Kenji’s brows lifted as Izan hit the first turn with even more conviction.

And the pitch seemed to narrow around him as he pushed straight into the course again.

...

Aiko had slipped into the stands without announcing herself.

She stood alone halfway up the rows, hands resting lightly on the railing as she watched Izan whip through the course.

The cameras tracked him in smooth, almost unreal motion, every step catching the light in a way that made him look like he belonged on a screen more than a pitch.

She nodded to herself.

”Like my own show,” she murmured, barely louder than a breath.

From her vantage point, the whole setup looked less like a training ground and more like a studio capturing something meant for millions.

Back to the pitch, Izan slowed to a stop and jogged toward Oda and the small crowd gathered around the monitors.

They were locked in place while Oda leaned over one of the screens with his palms flat against the table.

His assistants were huddled close, their eyes following the replay as if it were a film they had waited months to see.

Izan stepped up beside them and turned towards the screens.

The monitor displayed him running through the course in a smooth stream of motion.

No jittering.

No clipped frames.

The lighting caught the angles of his turns with a clarity that almost felt unreal.

It was clean in a way that looked too perfect to be accidental.

Even he paused.

”That’s... something,” he said quietly.

Oda didn’t react.

He was watching the screen like someone who had just witnessed a breakthrough he couldn’t put into words.

One of the assistants tapped the display gently, replaying a section of a close-up where Izan changed direction.

With their eyes still glued to the screens, Kenji approached from the side.

His footsteps slowed as he reached them, eyes bouncing between Oda, Izan, and the monitor.

He leaned a little closer, frowned, then leaned again as if making sure it wasn’t some illusion.

”So this is real,” he said under his breath.

Oda finally exhaled and stepped back.

Kenji straightened, looked at Oda first, then Izan.

He took another second to let what he had seen settle in his mind.

Then he held out his hand to Oda.

”You might have made my year,” he said.

Oda couldn’t help but laugh tiredly as he shook it.

It looked like he had been composed the whole shoot, but having dedicated some years of his life to the project, it was a relief to see it doing what it was intended for and more.

The crew around them chuckled with him, proud of the work they had done, while Kenji turned to Izan and shook his hand as well.

”And you... Well, you made it harder for the rest of us to pretend we understand what’s possible.”

”I am glad I got to be a part of this,” Izan muttered as he turned towards the cameras.

Oda tugged lightly at the cable of the nearest camera as Kenji and Izan prepared to leave the pitch.

He gave them a quick wave without looking away from the setup.

”I’ll stay out here for a bit,” he said. ”Just want to make sure nothing burned out.”

Kenji gave him a knowing smile.

”You mean you want to check if your precious lenses survived a hurricane?”

Oda lifted a hand in surrender and went right back to inspecting the equipment as Izan followed Kenji toward the building.

The quiet of the pitch faded behind them, replaced by the hum of activity inside the headquarters.

Staff who had been focused on their work earlier now turned their heads as he passed.

Some whispered to colleagues.

Kenji noticed the stares and shook his head, turning to Izan.

”Give it a few minutes,” he said. ”Someone’s going to walk up and ask for a photo. Or twenty.”

Izan breathed out through his nose. ”Is that a warning?”

”A prediction,” Kenji replied.

Before Izan could answer, a voice came from behind them.

”You’re underselling it, Dad. It’ll be more than twenty.”

Kenji stopped, and Izan turned with him.

Aiko was walking toward them from the corridor.

She looked a bit more glamorous than usual.

Kenji straightened a little, but she barely glanced at him.

Her attention went straight to Izan as she stepped in front of him, stopping close enough to make the moment feel intentional.

Then she lifted her hand.

”Nice to meet you again,” she said with the familiarity of someone who wasn’t approaching a stranger.

Izan met her eyes for a second, reading a hint of nervousness behind them, before he reached out to shake her hand.