Free Web NovelChapter 29: [29] "The Ivorian Clause"
Dijon Métropole arrived at Stade Valois in a functional 4-4-2, a defensive and midfield line of four then a striker pair who worked like a unit. They were the kind of side that made you pay for every lapse.
SC Valois hadn’t forgotten what a lapse had cost them.
[System Notification]
[Objective: Assist Idriss Konaté’s goal]
[Reward: +1 Composure stat (permanent)]
[Penalty: Hamstring tension entering the next match]
Luc read it in the tunnel before the warmup.
"Fine. He scores, I set it up."
The atmosphere was dry, it gave the pitch a good surface. Dijon had one plan and it was to sit deep, win second balls and nick something off on the break.
Henri was going to play Idriss from the bench in a sub role. Luc didn’t approve but Henri guaranteed Idriss that he’d come on. The conversation on the golf course had reached him through some chain of command, the way all of Valérie’s conversations did. He was going to give Idriss the opportunity for continuing to put in work.
Idriss warmed up alone in the far corner of the technical area.
---
The match started with the referees whistle.
It was minute 14.
Luc dropped centrally, drawing Dijon’s right center-back six yards out of shape. The pocket that opened was enticing. Hugo read the play and sensed the space before it even formed. He was developing quickly into a mini genius.
Hugo arrived onto the end of Mateo’s driven ball, turned, and hammered it low to the back post.
The keeper got fingertips to it. It still looped in.
Hugo watched it go in.
1-0.
Hugo stood looking mildly surprised. It was his first goal of the season. His teammates celebrated around him like he’d won them a title.
He didn’t know where to put his hands.
Luc jogged past him and said nothing except, "again. Let’s fucking go!"
Hugo laughed. The first real laugh on a matchday Luc had seen from him.
Dijon equalized in the 31st minute. A corner. A free header at the near post. Blažek had gambled on coming out and lost.
1-1.
The stadium went flat. Henri’s hands went straight to his bald head.
Luc didn’t look at the board, he looked at Dijon’s shape after the goal. They had pushed up one step.
That one step was all he needed.
---
Minute 38.
Luc received wide right with his back to goal. Two Dijon bodies closing him down.
He didn’t turn. He held the ball a little bit longer than was comfortable.
The center-back committed.
Luc dropped a shoulder and accelerated down the channel. No sprint-on-a-line this time. He curved his run, drawing the left back toward the corner flag.
He cut the ball back off his right foot into the penalty spot.
Hugo had continued his run from the previous phase of play. He was smart and he was still thinking. free𝑤ebnovel.com
The keeper came off his line too eagerly.
Hugo side-footed it into the roof of the net before the keeper could readjust.
2-1.
Hugo. Again! A brace for the young midfielder.
The half-time whistle sounded. In the tunnel, Mateo walked alongside Luc and said, "the kid’s been unplayable today."
"He’s always been unplayable," Luc said. "We just gave him room to prove it."
Mateo didn’t argue.
---
Second half. Idriss came on for Lacombe at the break.
He didn’t ask for the ball. He didn’t push for touches immediately. He moved into the channels that Lacombe had occupied and read the shape without ego.
Luc watched him. A striker who waited and played wherever the team needed. There was quality there.
Minute 63.
SC Valois won a free kick in the left side of the pitch. Twenty-two yards from the opposing goal. Luc stood over the ball.
He looked up. Idriss was on the shoulder of the far center-back. The run was already timed.
This was the moment. Float it to the back post, Idriss rises, he gets the goal. System objective complete.
Luc struck it, but it was straight into the wall.
There was rebound chaos involving three players as they attempted to clear it until one finally did.
---
Minute 71. Luc intercepted a pass from a Corse player on the edge of the area, only one center-back stepping across.
He could shoot. He had the angle. His right foot was sharper than it had ever been, with the Weak Foot Refinement underneath it.
Luc looked for Idriss who was wide left, ball-side, but not in the pocket of space he would have liked.
The shot was the right call so Luc took it.
He threaded the ball to the near post with his right foot, the shot was low and vicious.
Goal!!
3-1.
Luc felt it even before the ball hit the back of the net that he was going to score. Time to complete the objective was closing quickly, if not already closed considering the time left in the match. Idriss had not scored. Luc had not set him up.
The goal was clean, but the objective had not been met.
Idriss later scored in the 83rd minute from a Mateo long ball. A chest trap and a volley, one touch from outside the six-yard box. It was pure, devastating striker’s instinct.
4-1. The assist didn’t come from Luc. It came from Mateo.
---
Idriss walked past Luc after the goal. No celebration between them. No acknowledgement.
He pointed once at Mateo.
Luc watched him walk away. He respected his attitude and how he played for the team. It didn’t make the hamstring notification any less annoying.
[System Notification]
[Objective Failed: Assist not provided to Idriss] ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
[Penalty applied: Hamstring tension — both legs. Will surface ahead of MD10. SC Corse away.]
[Updated Wager Tally: Open Play Goals — Beaumont 8 | Fontaine 8]
[Fontaine scored once tonight against Bastille. A composed finish without any theatrics.]
He read it under the stadium lights, his jersey damp with sweat.
Fontaine was clinical again.
---
Juliette found him near the mouth of the tunnel.
She had her clipboard with her. She always had her clipboard. But she was checking him now instead of reading it.
"You’re moving differently on the right side."
"Objective failed."
She blinked. "What?", she had learned not to ask ’how’. Only, ’how bad?’
"Feeling a bit of hamstring tension." The penalty hadn’t yet been applied but it was better to tell the expert ahead of time. TES was inevitable.
Her jaw tightened, "we are away at Corse in six days. You can’t play with a hamstring issue."
"I’ll manage it."
"I won’t let you." Juliette snapped at him.
---
Inside, the locker room there was an abundance of good energy. Idriss sat at his locker with his shirt off and a towel around his neck, he talking to Mateo in French. No hostility in his posture. Just a man who had been heard and answered.
Hugo was surrounded by three teammates and looked like he wanted to leave, but he stayed. He accepted the compliments quietly, like a man who didn’t yet trust if they were real. Luc just sat in the corner and checked his phone.
One message from Valérie:
Eight to Eight. Still Tied.
I heard your situation from Juliette. Don’t limp into SC Corse. We need you.
He typed back:
We or You. Which is it?
Her reply came just a few seconds:
Don’t push it.
Luc smiled and put the phone away. The locker room was alive around him. Three points. Fourth win in the last five.
The wager was still tied eight to eight.
