The whistle blew. The second half had begun.
Phantom Force returned to the pitch, eyes blazing with a new fire. No more hesitation. No more mercy.
Alex controlled the ball at midfield, dribbling with measured calm, but Rento charged at him like a wild beast—clearly aiming for more than just the ball. He intended to injure.
But just as Rento lunged in for the tackle, someone intercepted—quietly, effortlessly. A Phantom Force player slid his leg into Rento's path in such a natural motion that even the referee missed it.
CRASH.Rento flipped, landing awkwardly on his side, screaming in pain.
Alex didn't flinch. He passed the ball forward to Jim.
Raiku and Tokito rushed in from both sides to box Jim in. But the old Jim was gone. This wasn't the same boy from the tournament's opening round. This was someone who'd been through fire—and learned to burn.
With no hesitation, Jim stomped down on Raiku's toe, the crunch audible to nearby players. Raiku howled in agony.
In the same motion, Jim turned his body and slammed his elbow into Tokito's ribs, sending him stumbling back, gasping for air.
The crowd fell into stunned silence.
Tokito dropped to one knee, clutching his chest. Raiku rolled on the ground, screaming.
Rento, now back on his feet, watched wide-eyed from midfield.
"...They're doing it back to us," he muttered. "That hit on me… wasn't an accident. They're hitting us on purpose."
From across the field, Jim offered a fake innocent smile."Oh… sorry," he said mockingly—and passed the ball forward to Volt.
Volt caught the ball mid-stride.
Two Crushers players came at him, and he didn't dodge.
Instead, he plowed through one with a shoulder tackle and slid his cleats right into the other's shin with full force. Both players dropped instantly, screaming in pain.
From the commentary box:
"This… this doesn't look like football anymore. This is a full-blown war!"
"Crushers crushed Volt in the first half… now Phantom Force is returning the favor with double intensity. It's brutal… tit for tat!"
"Why is the referee not stopping this?"
"Both teams aren't complaining, so the officials are letting it play out. It's like an unspoken agreement—let them fight."
Two of Crushers' key players were subbed off due to injury. Meanwhile, Phantom Force had already lost four players to red and yellow cards. The field was a battlefield.
The score was still tied: 1-1.The clock ticked down. Only 30 seconds remained in full time.
Jim had the ball. He surged forward, weaving between defenders, his eyes on the goal. He was Phantom Force's last hope to win without extra time.
But just as he stepped into shooting range—BAM!
Raiku slammed into Jim from behind with full force. Jim's balance shattered.
His head collided violently with Tokito's knee mid-fall.
Tokito dropped, pretending to be in pain.
But the real damage was on the other side.
Jim collapsed, motionless, as blood began to pool beneath his head.
The stadium fell silent.
The referee finally blew the whistle.Medical teams rushed in. Jim was lifted onto a stretcher and taken off the field.
"This is heartbreaking," the commentator whispered. "Jim… has been knocked unconscious. This isn't just a match anymore—this is a tragedy."
On the sidelines, Volt stood frozen.
Then his eyes widened.
Blood.Jim's blood.
A switch flipped inside him.
"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY BROTHER!!" Volt roared.
The sky darkened.
Black clouds formed above the stadium, crackling with raw electricity. Thunder echoed like a war drum. The Griffin inside Volt let out a cry that shook the wind itself.
The commentator shouted, "W-What's happening?!"
Lightning exploded above the stadium.
Volt had entered his Rage Form.
No longer just a player—he was a storm wrapped in human skin.
Raiku now had the ball, unaware of the monster he had just unleashed.
WHOOSH.A blur of silver and blue tore across the field. A hurricane.
Before Raiku could even blink, Volt was in front of him. He didn't tackle.
He passed through.
The wind pressure from Volt's speed alone launched Raiku out of bounds, slamming him into the ad boards like a ragdoll.
Volt didn't stop.
He unleashed his shot from midfield—BOOM.
The ball roared like a cannon, tearing through the air. The goalkeeper couldn't react.
The net shattered.The goalposts bent backward by three meters.
GOAL.
Final whistle.Score: 2-1.
Phantom Force had won the semifinals.
But at what cost?
The team rushed toward Volt, half in awe, half in fear.
Above them, lightning still danced in the clouds.And on the stretcher, Jim lay unconscious—his blood having lit the fire that won them the match.