How to Survive Restructuring

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Chapter 118: Ability vs. Ability (1)

"Good job, Yura."

"Yura did well?"

"Yeah, really well. You were the MVP of this match."

"MVP...? What's that?"

"Hmm... It's something good."

I laughed as I patted Yura's head, who grinned in response.

Poof!

At that moment, a rectangular box appeared in front of everyone.

A box wrapped in a pure white body, with a green ribbon fluttering like a butterfly.

"What is this? It's huge!"

"Yeah. Even Yura could fit inside."

"Wait a minute! Isn't this a random box?!"

The foul-mouthed one shouted with excitement, but inside the box was...

[‘Snack’ has been provided!]

A snack...

▣ Special Training Center Nourishing Meal

-A special lunchbox containing stir-fried golden-horned cow meat and grilled giant sea eel. It's an excellent energy booster.

-If consumed completely, Strength Stat +2.

A top-tier S-class snack that boosts stats just by eating.

In contrast, the meals of the other teams degraded by a level according to their performance.

"What kind of meat is this? It’s not actually beef, right?"

"Damn! This is too unfair!"

The lunchbox of the guy who rode a flying carpet contained only bread and a few sad pieces of meat.

"Isn't this practically a vegetarian meal?"

"Just eat it. It's better than theirs."

The monstrous Americans, who had grown huge, only had noodles drenched in sauce.

"……."

And the lunchbox of the flame-wielding guy, whose medal I had stolen at the start of the cavalry battle, contained nothing but two slices of bread with jam.

"This is brutal."

"Yeah. I wonder what the teams that got eliminated without even participating in the cavalry battle are eating…."

"Probably plain bread without jam?"

"Huh? You're joking, right?"

Jieun shook her head bitterly but then chuckled.

'I'm not joking, though.'

Back when I quit sports and was barely getting by with whatever part-time jobs I could manage, my financial situation was dire.

Living on about 300,000 won a month, including transportation costs, meant that eating proper meals was nearly impossible.

So, the best solution I found was bread.

A loaf of sliced bread usually had ten pieces.

If I ate two slices per meal, I could stretch it out for five meals—a lifesaver.

'Compared to those days, I'm living in luxury now.'

[‘Special Training Center Nourishing Meal’ has been consumed.]

[Strength Stat Increased (+2)]

'And I even get to eat nourishing food.'

It’s laughable.

To think that, in this surreal life, I no longer have to worry about hunger.

And that within it, I can even find moments of laughter.

"Thanks to you, young man, I won’t be going hungry today."

"It’s all thanks to you, sir. Your barrier was amazing."

"Haha! Amazing? No way!"

The security guard chuckled with a good-natured smile, saying he was just glad to help.

"Me too! Thanks to you, I ate well!"

Yeon Bora also held up her completely empty lunchbox with a bright smile.

Now that I think about it, the lunchbox’s effect was a +2 Strength Stat boost.

For Yeon Bora, who desperately needed to replenish her stamina, it was the perfect effect.

Feeling relieved in many ways, I was about to take a deep breath when—

Swoosh!

A shadow loomed over me.

'!!'

The men who had been under Myung Seungtae surrounded me.

"Can we talk for a second?"

Burly builds, rough expressions.

One of them, in particular, kept rubbing his arm—the same arm I had slashed yesterday.

Even after getting healed by Sola, it seemed to have left a lingering trauma.

"What do you want to talk about?"

There were six of them.

Given our history, I had no reason to expect anything pleasant from them.

But then—

"We're sorry!"

"……?!"

The burly men bowed deeply.

"What the… all of a sudden…?"

Then, all at once, they began spouting apologetic explanations.

"We know this apology probably looks insincere, but we’re really sorry. We weren’t in our right minds."

"You probably think we’re untrustworthy. I would, too."

"Someday… we hope you'll give us a chance to make it up to you. We'll prove we’re useful."

Their heads were bowed so low they almost touched the ground.

Their backs were stiff, and their voices trembled.

'A chance to make it up, huh.'

I doubted this was just a pure-hearted apology.

They probably figured they couldn't afford to make an enemy of me in the upcoming missions.

But still—

"I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities for you to be useful."

"!!"

I accepted.

To be honest, their only real mistake was naively falling under Myung Seungtae’s mind control.

They were just following orders and ended up getting beaten by me for it.

If they had acted indignant and made a fuss, this situation would have been a hassle.

But it seemed they knew how to read the room.

"And… thanks."

"What?"

"I know our team is still in first place because of you."

Hmm.

It wasn’t entirely my doing, but I didn’t bother correcting them.

If this helped gain their trust, it was a win-win situation.

PM 12:30.

Thus, the unexpected bonus meal came to a peaceful end.

— Static!

"The broadcast is coming on!"

The start of the afternoon schedule was being announced.

— Crackle!

[Attention, new employees of District 13.]

[Round 3 will begin shortly at precisely 1:00 PM.]

[The event for Round 3 is…]

"Whew… What will it be this time?"

"Yeah, I hope it’s not too exhausting…"

As Jieun spoke with nervous anticipation, the broadcast continued.

[‘Soccer’!]

"Soccer?!"

Everyone’s eyes turned to one person.

The hero of Wembley—Park Gongchan.

“Ha.”

Park Gongchan let out a short syllable as if he were dumbfounded.

It sounded like a sigh, but to my ears, it was an exclamation—perhaps because his eyes sparkled like never before.

"This is my area of expertise."

"So it seems."

Park Gongchan looked thrilled.

His face burned with competitiveness, as if his body was already heating up in excitement.

He was someone with an immense desire to win, but more than that…

‘He really loves soccer.’

And it wasn’t just him.

His group—the national team members—felt the same.

"Is this real soccer? With the official rules?"

"I never thought I’d get to play soccer again here!"

"I saw a lot of players earlier… So, of course, they’re all going to participate, right?"

Their faces lit up with a mixture of joy, nostalgia, and excitement.

So I said,

"I’ll leave it to you."

"…What?"

"This match—I'll leave everything to you, from selecting the lineup to the strategy. Just make sure we win. Can you do that?"

"……."

"You're the expert."

I didn’t need to lead every game myself.

If there was an expert, delegating was an option too.

Besides, in this case, stepping back made for a better picture.

"Though… I do have a good idea."

After a brief exchange of words—

Twitch.

Park Gongchan's eyebrows shot up.

Not because he was displeased with my strategy.

Rather, his expression was filled with anticipation.

He thought for a moment and then opened his mouth.

"I can’t see myself losing."

And for once, he smiled brightly.

* * *

"Louis! Did you hear?"

"My god… Soccer?!"

Brazil’s rookie representative and national soccer team member.

Louis, the "Commander of the Canarinha Legion," lowered his curly brown hair in reverence.

Then, clasping his hands together like in prayer, he cheered.

Soccer. Soccer!

This was…

"A gift from the heavens."

The core of the survivors around Louis was the national soccer team.

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Because this damned apocalypse had begun during their training, Brazil’s starting lineup had survived intact.

Their team’s strength was top-tier.

"Who will we face?"

"I saw that France and Germany made it."

"England and Spain… Ah, and Italy too."

While the players chattered, Louis didn’t care who the opponents were.

Not that it had ever mattered, but there wasn’t a single zone where the full national team had survived like theirs.

So his feeling grew stronger.

They would win.

Without a doubt.

"We’ll take the championship, no matter who we face."

Yes, that was the plan.

But then—

[The opponent for Zone BR is… Zone ROK!]

The moment the system announced their opponent, his feeling turned into certainty.

"ROK… Korea?!"

"The country of Park Gongchan."

"Gongchan is strong. He never gets tired."

"But Korea…"

Sergio trailed off and smacked his lips.

"They’re too easy."

Korea.

A country that occasionally produced phenomenal players but could never be called a powerhouse—not even as flattery.

Their FIFA ranking was barely in the top 30.

Compared to Brazil, the team with the most World Cup wins and a glowing FIFA ranking of 3rd, Korea wasn’t even worth considering.

"They were the top team in yesterday’s mission, right? Finally, we get to crush the No.1 team!"

"Ha, Korea must be devastated. Of all teams, they got us."

Smiles spread across the players' faces.

All their eyes shone with absolute confidence in victory.

Of course, not everyone shared that sentiment.

One man raised his hand and spoke bluntly.

"Aren’t we underestimating them too much?"

"Underestimating?"

"I mean, they are the No.1 team. Shouldn’t we prepare thoroughly? They came out of nowhere and took first place earlier."

At his words, Louis nodded.

"A reasonable point."

"Right? So we should also consider—"

"But it’s also an insulting one."

Flinch!

Louis’s eyes gleamed sharply.

The man he was looking at instinctively shuddered.

"I-I was just saying…"

"Ha, let it go, Captain. He doesn’t understand your skill."

"Exactly. If he’d seen it even once, he wouldn’t be talking nonsense."

This was soccer.

Not anything else—just soccer.

Even if Korea had some sort of stealth ability, it would be completely useless on the field.

No matter how well they hid, the ball would still be visible.

Even an ability to shatter weapons would be pointless.

Tearing the ball apart would only result in disqualification.

But above all—Brazil’s national team was different.

They were people born to kick a ball, players who existed solely for soccer.

And among them, only the very best—the elite eleven—were selected.

"Even without abilities, we’ll win."

Because they were born to dominate the field.

"Exactly! We can win even without powers, but our captain even has an ability!"

"There’s no way we can lose this match!"

Louis locked eyes with Brazil’s greatest players.

Paulo—the best sweeper-keeper in history.

José—the Ballon d'Or winner from Real Madrid.

Felipe—Barcelona’s passing master.

A victory that was practically already decided.

Just as the tension of the match was about to dissipate—

[Bonus: Earn training points worth ten times the goal difference!]

The system announced a tempting reward.

"!!"

"So… If we win by ten goals, we get 100 points?"

"How many points did Korea earn in the horse battle earlier?"

"I think… 70 points?"

They can crush them.

Brazil's ranking yesterday was 9th.

Not exactly at the top, but honestly, rankings below 3rd place didn't hold much significance.

Everyone had earned similar points anyway.

So, if they could take the lead this time...

"Even 1st place is possible."

To make that happen...

"We win overwhelmingly."

* * *

[All players, please gather in the stadium!]

Swoosh!

Louis's soccer cleats pressed against the grass.

He admired the familiar sensation but didn’t neglect observing his opponents.

"As expected, Park Gongchan is here."

"We just have to watch out for him."

Gongchan was a frontline striker specializing in shooting.

His finishing ability was excellent, and his ball control and dribbling were impressive.

Not to mention his exceptional shooting skills.

But all of this only mattered when he had possession of the ball.

"If he never gets the ball, he can't do anything."

"With my ability, he won’t even get a glimpse of the ball for the entire match."

That was how powerful Louis's skill was.

"Hmm? But the goalkeeper..."

Paulo, who had been snickering, suddenly rubbed his eyes as if he had seen something unbelievable.

"Who is that?"

"No way!"

"Am I seeing things?!"

Louis, usually calm and composed, was now anything but.

"They put a random person as the goalkeeper?"

"No, Captain! That’s not just a random person—"

The most crucial quality for a goalkeeper is decision-making.

Especially in this round, where points were determined by goal difference.

The goalkeeper’s ability would be more important than any other position.

"What are you thinking, Gongchan?"

Louis furrowed his brows.

"Are they underestimating us?"

"Let’s teach them a lesson."

"We won’t even let the ball cross the halfway line."

With that cursed declaration—

Tweet—!

[The match begins!]

[Break through enemy lines and score!]

The curse became reality.

"Louis!"

As soon as he saw the ball drop to the ground, he shouted.

"Dribble!"

Flash—!

A streak of blue light shot forward.

Only he could see it—the light connecting his foot to the ball.

Once he had possession, he never let go.

Thump!

Gongchan rushed in, attempting a tackle.

But the ball, already linked to Louis by the blue light—

Would never touch another player's foot.

Like a loyal dog, it followed only its master.

Tap!

In an instant, Louis breezed past Gongchan and several other nameless defenders, taunting them with his speed.

Before long, he was facing the goal.

Or rather—facing an unprecedented type of goalkeeper.

"Ha!"

He had considered the possibility.

It wasn’t as if the thought had never crossed his mind.

But the moment Louis locked eyes with the so-called "goalkeeper," whatever tension remained within him vanished completely.

‘They don’t even know the basics.’

A proper goalkeeper reads an incoming shot, moves left and right, and narrows the angle.

But this one?

They weren’t even trying.

They had lowered their stance awkwardly, but it was obvious.

There was no tension in their legs at all.

‘What, is this woman the team captain’s mother or something?’

Yeah.

That must be it.

Maybe they thought the goalkeeper’s role was minor, so they took it lightly.

Maybe they assumed their defenders would block everything, and the goalkeeper was just there to collect participation points.

Louis sneered and clicked his tongue.

"Park Gongchan, I feel bad for you."

Which meant—he had to crush them even harder.

If they conceded ten goals, maybe they’d wake up.

Or maybe twenty would be better.

With that thought, Louis’s gaze turned ice cold.

"Look to the right."

Aim for the bottom corner.

Deep breath—inhale.

Swoosh!

His leg came down.

A precise, controlled touch with the top of his right foot.

And then—

"Shoot left."

Boom—!

A powerful, knuckleball shot.

Eyes looking right, shot going left.

A rookie would take the bait and dive in the wrong direction... or so he thought.

But—

"She’s not moving?"

It was almost laughable.

That ridiculous composure.

Just as anger started to rise within him, the bizarre goalkeeper suddenly—

"Hup—One! Two!"

Dramatically rotated her shoulders, lifted both hands, and—

"CLEANING!"

With a ridiculous shout—

Vrrr—!

The ball, which was flying toward the left corner, suddenly—

"…?!"

Veered straight into the goalkeeper’s outstretched hand.

As if it had been sucked in by a vacuum cleaner.

Plop!

The woman folded her hands.

And the once-powerful ball simply dropped into her embrace.

Gently.

Obediently.

Like a well-behaved pet.

"Oh my! It actually worked!"

The woman clapped her hands in exaggerated delight.

"Oh dear, I’m so sorry! You kicked it so hard!"

Louis's golden leg froze mid-step.

"…What the hell was that?!"

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]