A wide, predatory grin was still plastered on Ethan's face when he logged off.

The sheer, beautiful absurdity of the draw was perfect.

It wasn't a grudge match against a faceless rival; it was a battle for bragging rights against his best friend, and it was for a place in the next round of a tournament that could change his club's entire future.

He sat up in the pod, the real world feeling a little less real than the one he'd just left, and immediately grabbed his phone.

He didn't even bother with a text.

He hit the call button for Leo.

Leo picked up on the first ring, his voice a breathless, laughing mess. "YOU SAW IT, RIGHT?! YOU SAW THE DRAW?!"

"I saw it," Ethan said, a chuckle in his own voice. "The game has a sense of humor, I'll give it that. Ready for round two?"

"Ready?" Leo scoffed. "My team has been doing nothing but defensive drills for the last week! Matias Gallardo has been heading training dummies into orbit. Your little magicians aren't getting a sniff this time. No lucky 93rd-minute equalizers for you."

"Luck?" Ethan retorted, feigning outrage. "That was the 'Derby Day' modifier, my friend. A secret objective. The game itself decided you deserved a pity point. This time, it's a real cup match. There are no pity points in the EFL Trophy. Only the sweet taste of victory and the bitter, salty tears of your opponent."

"Oh, you'll be tasting salty tears alright," Leo shot back. "Probably from the onions on the celebratory kebab I'm going to eat after my 1-0 win. My fortress is impenetrable."

"Your fortress is about to be besieged by two newly-minted 70-rated wonderkids," Ethan said, dropping the bombshell casually. "The training boost was... effective."

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line. "...Seventy? Both of them? You're kidding me."

"Nope," Ethan said, popping the 'p'. "Emre and Viktor are officially leading players for this division. Your S-Rank wall is about to meet an SSS-Rank wrecking ball and his S-Rank Danish sidekick. Good luck with that."

"Okay, that's just not fair," Leo grumbled, but there was a note of genuine excitement in his voice. "This is going to be epic. The unstoppable force meets the immovable object."

"Exactly," Ethan said. "See you in three days, Leo. And bring your wallet. You're buying the consolation kebabs this time."

He hung up, a wide, happy grin on his face. This was what it was all about.

The next three days were a blur of focused preparation.

In the real world, Ethan's life was calm.

His mom was now walking around the house, helping with small chores.

His shifts at CostMart were a comfortable routine.

But in the virtual world, it was all business.

He and James Pearce analyzed every second of the first Orion FC match, designing drills to break down Leo's compact 4-4-2.

Finally, matchday arrived.

It was a Tuesday evening, a cup match under the bright, artificial lights of The Apex.

Ethan logged in and appeared in the home dressing room.

The atmosphere was completely different from any previous match

. It was relaxed, confident, and filled with a low, humming buzz of anticipation.

The players knew who they were playing. The gaffer's best friend. The team from the league below. But they also knew it was a cup match, with real prize money on the line.

"So, this manager," Jonathan Rowe was saying to Kenny McLean. "He's really the gaffer's best mate?"

"Yep," McLean said, taping his ankles. "Which means we'd better not lose. I don't think I could handle the gaffer being in a mood for a week."

"Is his team any good?" Viktor asked, looking a little nervous.

"They're solid," Grant Hanley, back from his suspension, answered from across the room. "But we're better. We just have to prove it."

Ethan clapped his hands, and the room turned to him. "Alright, lads. You all know the deal. Orion FC. My best friend. A manager whose greatest tactical achievement is remembering to make substitutions."

A few chuckles went through the room.

"But don't let that fool you," Ethan continued, his tone turning serious. "They are a tough, disciplined, and very, very hard team to beat. Their defender, Gallardo, is one of the best in the lower leagues. We will not underestimate them. We will treat this like any other cup final."

He turned to the tactics board. "We're going with the 4-3-3. But with a twist. Emre, you're not playing as a free-roaming ten today. You're playing as a deep-lying playmaker. A quarterback. I want you to get on the ball, stay out of their defensive traffic, and dictate the game from deep. You have the vision to unlock their wall from 40 yards away."

Emre nodded, a look of intense concentration on his face.

"That means our two other midfielders, Kenny and Jacob, your job is to be his bodyguards. Give him the ball, protect him, and let him cook."

He then looked at his front three. "Viktor, you're leading the line. David, Jonny, on the wings. Your job is pace. Stretch their back four. Make runs in behind. Emre will find you. This game will be won with patience and one moment of killer quality. Let's go out there and get the job done."

The team walked out into the roar of the home crowd. The Apex was packed, the virtual fans buzzing for this strange, personal derby. Ethan walked to his technical area and looked across at Leo, who gave him a confident, challenging nod.

"A very good evening and welcome to The Apex for this second-round clash in the EFL Trophy!" the commentator's voice boomed. "And what a story we have here! It's a managerial derby, as Ethan Couch's high-flying Apex United take on his real-life best friend's team, the defensively resolute Orion FC, managed by 'LeoTheHunter'! There's prize money on the line, but more importantly, there are bragging rights!"

The whistle blew. The match began!

From the first whistle, it was a fascinating clash of styles.

Apex, with Emre Demir conducting the play from deep, dominated possession.

They passed the ball with a calm, confident authority, moving the Orion players from side to side. But Leo's team was a fortress.

Their two banks of four were a disciplined, black and gold wall, and at the heart of it, Matias Gallardo was a monster, intercepting passes, winning headers, and snuffing out danger before it even began.

"He's everywhere!" Jonathan Rowe grumbled after Gallardo slid in with another perfect, goal-saving tackle.

In the 21st minute, Apex finally created a clear chance. A beautiful, raking 50-yard pass from Emre sent David Kerrigan racing in behind the defense.

He cut inside, one-on-one with Gallardo. Kerrigan did a quick step-over, but Gallardo didn't bite. He just stood his ground, waited for the winger to make his move, and then dispossessed him with a tackle of sublime simplicity and power.

Leo roared his approval from the sideline. "That's my boy! That's my S-Rank wall!"

Ethan just smiled. The battle was just getting started.

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