BAB 7

Damn it! He's just showing off!" Rusty Stripe fumed, his face flushed. Julian's performance, juggling 361 times when Rusty Stripe barely managed 50, was a brutal humiliation. He'd practically handed Julian the victory.

Julian, however, wasn't feigning nonchalance. He was genuinely eager for another round. The dopamine rush from playing football was addictive. He wanted to push his limits, to see if he could surpass his previous life's record of 874 juggles.

Today's performance, though impressive, was far from his peak. His current body lacked the coordination and flexibility of his previous one. Still, over 300 juggles was a testament to his innate talent and the sudden surge of muscle memory.

"I'll do it again," Julian announced, reaching for the ball.

"No need! Enough!" Rusty Stripe growled, his face contorted with shame. "You win."

Julian, feigning disbelief, asked, "Why give up so easily? We could go again."

Sophie, her eyes wide, rushed over and pinched his arm. "Enough is enough!"

Rusty Stripe, his voice thick with indignation, said, "You've already humiliated me once. Do you want to do it again?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Julian said, his tone innocent. "I just... find juggling quite simple." He couldn't resist adding that last part.

Rusty Stripe glared. "Don't push it, Irish boy! Juggling isn't real football. If we're comparing skill, I lost. I won't bother Sophie again. But I'm not convinced! You don't know real football!"

He paused, his eyes narrowing. "If you're so confident, challenge me on the field. A real match. Man to man. I'll show you what football is!"

A real football match? Julian's interest piqued. This was a golden opportunity. If he could defeat Rusty Stripe, the school team's star center back, he'd have a shot at joining the team.

And joining the team meant participating in the All-England High School Cup, facing off against the country's best. It also meant more opportunities to acquire football skills from the system.

A slow smile spread across Julian's face. "You're right, Rusty. Juggling isn't everything. I'd love to see what real football is. I accept your challenge. Monday, on the school field."

Rusty Stripe pumped his fist. "Excellent! Me and the team will be waiting. See you Monday!"

He turned to Sophie, his expression softening. Sophie instinctively leaned towards Julian.

Rusty Stripe sighed. "Sophie, I really cared about you. But... it wasn't meant to be. Can I at least get your friend Susanna's number? You know, the one with the... assets?"

Sophie's lips twitched. "Get lost."

"Alright, alright!" Rusty Stripe and his gang slunk away.

The crowd dispersed, leaving Julian and Sophie alone.

"Let's go," Julian said, already turning to leave, his mind preoccupied with the system upgrade. He didn't even notice Sophie's hesitation.

Sophie, flustered, asked, "Where are you going?"

"Home, of course."

Sophie's heart pounded. Was he really going to...? "But... my parents are home."

Julian, already ten meters away, didn't hear her.

"Julian!" Sophie stomped her foot. "You... you're infuriating!"

Julian turned, his expression confused. "What's wrong?"

"Just... forget it!" Sophie stormed past him, her long legs carrying her away.

Julian was bewildered. What had he done? She was acting strange again. Probably another 90 points of negative emotion. Too bad he couldn't collect it until after midnight.

He followed her, wondering if he could convince her to hold off on her anger until after the system reset.

Sophie's anger grew with each step. He had been so attentive in the cafe, but now, nothing?

"If I ever talk to him again..." she muttered under her breath.

They walked in silence towards Sophie's house, a fifteen-minute walk from the cafe.

Sophie's family home, a comfortable middle-class residence, had a well-maintained lawn. As soon as they entered, Sophie headed straight for her third-floor room.

"Welcome back," Sophie's father, Andrew, said, his eyes glued to the "Southern Football News."

"Good afternoon, Uncle Andrew," Julian greeted him, suppressing his excitement. This was a familiar scene.

Andrew, a balding man in his forties, was wearing a Southampton jersey that strained against his portly figure. "Ah, our Irish friend! What do you want for dinner? I'll tell Sally."

Sally Turner, Sophie's mother, was in the kitchen.

"Thank you, Uncle Andrew, nothing special," Julian replied.

Andrew relayed the message to Sally, then turned back to Julian. "You're seventeen, right? Want to join me for a drink? Southampton's playing Northampton later. You interested?"

Lowering his voice, he added, "I put a grand on Southampton winning."

Julian frowned. The memory of this derby resurfaced. Southampton, a League One team, was playing Northampton, a League Two team. Southampton was the stronger team, and was set for promotion.

But Julian remembered a surprising upset. Southampton would lose.

This was an opportunity.

"A grand, huh?" Julian said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That's a lot of money.