MTLNOVEL Chapter 24: 24.
The school team players were laughing and cheering for Rust.
"Rust, teach that arrogant Chinese kid a lesson!"
"Rust, I bet a week's worth of lunch money on you, don't screw me over!"
"Rust, this is your chance to take revenge!"
Rust puffed out his chest with pride. "Relax, there's no way I'm losing this! And once I win, I'll confess to Sophie's best friend, Susanna! It's a guaranteed success! Hahaha!"
Gu Ran couldn't help but chuckle internally. What kind of elementary school logic is this? How does winning a one-on-one match have anything to do with confessing to a girl? Is this some kind of superstition?
Rust took a deep breath and roared, "Hey, Chinese kid! Are you ready? Say the word, so you don't complain later that I didn't give you time to prepare!"
Gu Ran rotated his ankles, took a deep breath of the fresh grass-scented air, and smiled. "I couldn't be more ready."
"Good! Here I go! Feel the wrath of the Human Tank!"
Rust let out a beastly growl and charged forward from the center circle, dribbling toward the goal.
To be honest, his acceleration was slow, and his speed wasn't impressive, but at 1.88 meters tall and 93 kilograms, his charge did look quite intimidating.
With his experience playing street football, Gu Ran easily predicted Rust's dribbling path.
Rust wasn't trying to hide his movement or change direction; he was bulldozing straight down the middle.
No fancy tricks. No agility. Just pure brute force.
This kind of rough playing style was actually a hallmark of traditional British football.
In fact, in the earliest days, football and rugby were the same sport, sharing identical rules. It wasn't until the Freemasons' Tavern meeting in 1863 that the two were officially separated.
But even today, amateur British football still carried that rugged, rugby-like aggression.
Faced with Rust's straight-line charge, Gu Ran didn't back down and met him head-on.
This was exactly the kind of physical clash that Coach Carter wanted to see.
If you wanted to play football in England, you had to embrace this rough-and-tumble culture.
Seeing Gu Ran charging straight at him, Rust grinned widely. He turned slightly, shielding the ball, and threw his shoulder forward.
This move looked simple but was highly effective.
If Gu Ran dodged, Rust would immediately break free and dribble in the opposite direction.
If Gu Ran didn't dodge… well, hahaha!
Rust was convinced that with Gu Ran's slender frame, there was no way he would dare to collide head-on.
Not just Rust—everyone watching thought the same.
Even Coach Carter, sitting with arms crossed, had the same assumption.
But then, something happened that shocked everyone to their core—
Gu Ran didn't hesitate for even a second.
He didn't slow down.
He didn't change direction.
He accelerated straight into Rust's charge.
"What?! You're asking for death!" Rust bellowed, his thick arm swinging up into a blatant elbow strike.
On a proper field, this was an obvious foul.
But this wasn't a proper match—no one was going to call it.
At that exact moment, Gu Ran dropped his center of gravity slightly, dodged the elbow, and threw his shoulder into Rust's exposed ribcage.
BANG!
The two collided fiercely before rebounding apart.
Rust was completely unprepared and was sent flying backward five full steps.
Gu Ran, meanwhile, was only knocked back three steps.
Damn, this guy is built like a tank!
Gu Ran was stunned for a moment.
His charge had been fully enhanced—
He had +1 to Legal Shoulder Charges, 60 Strength, momentum from sprinting, and all his experience from playing street football.
Not to mention, Rust wasn't even going all out—he had underestimated Gu Ran, probably using only 70-80% of his full strength.
Meanwhile, Gu Ran had gone all in.
And even after giving it his all, he had only managed to push Rust back two more steps than himself.
The level of physical training in English youth football really wasn't just hype.
But damn, this full-body clash felt amazing!
Gu Ran's blood was pumping with excitement.
While Rust was still in disbelief, Gu Ran quickly regained his balance, sprinted after the rolling ball, and kicked it back to midfield.
Victory.
Gu Ran let out a deep, satisfied breath.
That thrill, that dopamine rush from the impact—he had missed this feeling.
The entire team watching exploded in disbelief.
No one could have predicted this outcome.
Everyone thought that the Chinese kid would play safe, using tight marking and footwork to slow Rust down, waiting for a mistake to steal or tackle the ball.
But instead, he went for a full-frontal clash.
That was domination.
Rust was 1.88 meters tall, 93 kilograms—A HUMAN TANK.
And Gu Ran?
Maybe 1.80 meters, probably not even 75 kilograms.
And yet, in a straight-up physical battle, Rust lost.
This was insane.
The school team players erupted in rage.
"F***, Rust, what the hell are you doing?!"
"Damn it, I knew we couldn't trust you! You always choke at critical moments! You're just a rusty cog!"
"Rust, are you acting? You trying to scam me out of my lunch money?!"
"Rust, forget about confessing to Susanna. That dream is dead!"
"Rust, if you love acting so much, why are you playing football? Go do adult films instead!"
"F***, everyone shut up!" Rust roared, clutching his ribs, his face burning with embarrassment. "That didn't count! I still have a chance with Susanna!"
Ding!
"Rust's negative emotion value: 58 points. System bubble generated…"
A white system bubble appeared at Rust's feet.
Gu Ran's eyes sparkled.
He casually walked over, tapped the bubble with his foot, and flashed a polite smile.
"Rust, thank you. Now I understand what real football is."
"You—F***!" Rust's face twisted in rage.
The white bubble burst into dazzling light, merging into Gu Ran's body.
Ding!
"You have received: 10 hours of stamina training. Daily collection progress: 4/10."
Gu Ran instantly felt lighter, the fatigue from their clash fading slightly.
All that hard training—all of Rust's sweat and exhaustion—was now his.
Saying "thank you" was only polite, after all.
Gu Ran smirked to himself.
Rust, still fuming, spat, "That didn't count! Chinese kid, don't get cocky! I wasn't even using my full strength! Coach! Give me one more chance! If I lose again, I'll do 200—no, 300 frog jumps!"
Rust was bidding against himself.
Coach Carter narrowed his eyes, rubbing his chin.
Would he allow a rematch?
And more importantly—did Rust even have a chance anymore?