In the locker room, the atmosphere was light, filled with the sounds of ughter and friendly bahe pyers, feeling fident with their lead, joked among themselves as they rehydrated aed.

  Marcel, seated on one of the benches, smiled along with them but couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of Ghana’s disallowed goal. That moment had sent a chill down his spine. If the offside call hadn’t been made, they would have goo halftime tied, and the game’s momentum could have shifted entirely.

  He khey were trolling the match, but football could be cruel—one ce was all Ghana o ge everything.

  His fingers ched into a fist. Should he use the system boost? He hesitated for a moment. We’re pying well, but… just in case. He didn’t want to leave anything to ce.

  “Tricera, activate the special boost,” he thought.

  A translut message flickered in front of him.

  [Defensive Cohesion +5% Activated.]

  Marcel blinked and instinctively g Jean, Toukam, and the rest of the bae. Did they feel anything? Did something ge? He half-expected some sort of glow, an aura, a visual effect that would show the boost taking effect.

  Well, this isn’t an anime. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

  Jean, standing nearby, raised a fist toward him. “You pyed well so far, and the same for everyone in attack.”

  Marcel met his fist bump. “Thanks. You guys in defense have been solid too. That’s why we’re still leading.”

  Jea out a small sigh. “That offside goal, though… it caught us pletely off guard. The pass was so perfect, we didn’t eveheir winger making the run.”

  “Yeah,” Marcel agreed. “But it’s not just on defense. If we had verted more of our ces, we’d have more security right now.”

  A voiterrupted them.

  “Are you talking about me?” Ganago asked, his tone pyful but with a petitive edge as he approached.

  Marcel raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Not really. Even I missed some shots.”

  Ganago crossed his arms. “You better not be bming me if we don’t sore.”

  “Rex,” Marcel ughed, about to respond when the locker room door swung open and Coach Atangana stepped inside.

  The versations ceased instantly.

  Coach Atangana surveyed the pyers, his eyes briefly sing the room before he spoke.

  “Alright, boys. Overall, we pyed very well in the first half. We didn’t allow them any real ces, and we trolled the match. That’s good.”

  Some pyers straightened, preparing to speak, but the coach raised a hand, cutting them off.

  “And no,” he tinued, “I’m not ting that one ce they had. It was offside, and in a game like this, the way we’ve pyed so far, one small mistake doesn’t ge the fact that we’ve beeter team.”

  The tension in the room eased slightly. The pyers nodded in agreement.

  “But,” he added, his voice firm, “this game isn’t over. I want us to keep the same iy. If we add anoal, it will make the sed leg in Ghana easier. Don’t let them grow into the match. Stay focused.”

  He cpped his hands together. “Now, let’s go out there and finish the job.”

  The room erupted with a unified response.

  “Yes, Coach!”

  ……

  ……

  "Wele back, everyohe break is over, and we are ready for the sed half of this crucial qualifier between Cameroon and Ghana," the entator announced with energy.

  "The Baby Lions go into this half with a well-deserved lead after dominating much of the first 45 minutes. Ghana struggled to create ces, their only real moment of danger ing from that disallowed offside goal."

  "But football is uable—one goal ge everything. Will Ghana adjust and find a way bato this game, or will Cameroon tiheir dominand put this match beyond reach?"

  As the words echoed through the stadium speakers, the pyers emerged from the tunnel, jogging onto the pitch, ready for the final 45 minutes.

  "Here they e! The pyers are ba the field, and we’re moments away from kick-off in this sed half. Get ready—this match is far from over!”

  …

  The sed half resumed with renewed iy. Ghana, clearly fired up, pushed higher up the pitch, pressing mgressively. But Cameroon, unfazed, tio hold their ground, making it difficult for their oppos to find space. The ball went bad forth in the midfield, her team able to gain full trol, until the 58th minute when a throw-in for Cameroon on the left side of Ghana half offered a new opportunity.

  Kamou stepped up to take it, gng at his options before throwing the ball to Hong, who had drifted into a tral-right position just outside the box. With oouch, Holed the ball and quickly spotted Djoubairou making an ued forward run. Without hesitation, he pyed a clever through ball into the left half-space of the penalty area.

  Djoubairou reached the pass he six-yard area but found himself blocked by two Ghanaian defenders. With no clear shooting angle, he made a quick decision—pulling the ball back toward the top of the box where Ngoah was arriving.

  Ngoah stepped into the shot with fideriking the ball with power. It took a slight defle off a Ghanaian defender, altering its trajectory just enough for the ball to smash against the inside of the left post. For a brief, agonizing sed, the ball rolled perfectly along the goal line before spinning out past the right post.

  "OHHHH! That was CLOSE! Ngoah nearly found the back of the with that shot!" the entator shouted.

  Ngoah threw his hands on his head, frustrated by the near miss. Marcel jogged up behind him, giving him a firm pat on the back. "That was good. We keep pying like this, and the goal will e," he reassured him.

  Ngoah nodded and turned back toward the right er fg, preparing for the set piece.

  Ih minute, Ngoah curled in a er, targeting the near post where Ganago made a run. But a Ghanaian defender read it well, jumping higher and heading the ball away toward the right fnk.

  Ngoah tracked the ball as it dropped and prepared to trol it he toue, but just as he was about to settle it, the ball stru uneven patch of the pitch, causing it to uedly bounce higher and hit his knee instead of his foot. The poor tact sent the ball spinning out of py foal kick.

  "Ah, unlucky foah there! The pitch ditions are proving tricky today!"

  Coach Atangana shook his head on the sidelines. A missed opportunity, but at least they were still in trol.

  Ghana began to build fideer that moment, creating more attag sequences and finally testing Cameroon’s defense. Several shots came in, but Djomo remained posed, catg the ball when needed and anizing his bae. The defenders—Jean, Toukam, Njike, and Kamou—were throwing themselves into tackles, clearing crosses, and blog shots with a level of coordination that hadn’t been as sharp in the first half.

  The Ghanaian coach, seeing his team growing into the game, urged his pyers to it more numbers forward. It was a risk, but they needed an equalizer.

  Cameroon, however, was waiting for the perfect terattack.

  Ih minute, Hong intercepted a loose pass just outside the box and immediately lifted the ball forward toward Namekong on the right wing. The Ghanaian defenders, slow to recover, scrambled to get back.

  Namekong sprinted down the fnk, carrying the ball forward before spotting Ganago making a run into the box. He whipped in a cross, but it oorly executed—the ball bounced awkwardly off Ganago’s tibia. The striker, reag instinctively, still tried to shoot, but his attempt flew harmlessly over the crossbar.

  "Cameroon had them there! But the final ball just wasn’t good enough!"

  The match ti a high tempo, both teams pushing, but Cameroon remained in trol.

  Then, ih minute, Ghana won a er on the left.

  The delivery came to the near post, but as had been the case all match, Cameroon’s defense was first to the ball. Toukam rose highest, heading it clear toward the edge of the box.

  Djoubairou, always alert, was there for the sed ball. Without hesitation, he unched a forass, hoping to catch Ghana out on the break.

  Marcel, positioned he ter circle, received the pass but had to slow down for a moment—the ball took an awkward bounce off another uneven part of the pitch. That split-sed dey gave Ghanaian defenders just enough time to track back.

  Despite that, Marcel shielded the ball and pyed a short pass back to Djoubairou, who had tinued his run forward. The terattack wasn’t dead yet.

  Djoubairou looked up and saw Namekong wide on the right, charging into the final third. He switched py, sending a perfectly weighted ball toward him.

  Namekong trolled it in full stride, pushing forward into the right half-spaside the box. He prepared to shoot, but at the st moment, a Ghanaian defender lunged iing just enough of the ball to deflect it away.

  The ball then ricocheted off anhanaian defender’s foot, boung awkwardly toward the penalty spot.

  The Ghanaian goalkeeper, already off his liicipating Namekong’s shot, was left wrong-footed as the ball rolled past him.

  And then—

  Marcel arrived.

  The ball fell perfectly for him, and with the goal wide operuck it ly into the .

  GOAL!

  "MARCEEEEEL NDONGA! 2-0 FOR CAMEROON!" the entator roared.

  Marcel sprioward the er fg, sliding onto his knees before jumping up and pung the air. He turo face the camera, f a heart with his hands—a message for his mother, Christina, and his friends who couldn’t attend.

  His teammates rushed toward him, jumping on him in celebration. Ganago grabbed him around the shoulders, shaking him.

  Coach Atangana stood on the sidelines with a smile, nodding his head in approval. With this goal, if they kept their focus, they would head to Ghana with a crucial advantage.

  The crowd, though not massive, erupted in cheers. The few hundred supporters in attendance waved fgs and pounded drums, knowing that this goal could be the decisive moment ich.

  Cameroon now had trol.

  And with just ten minutes left, they o see it through.

  …

  The ball ced at the ter circle as Ghana quickly restarted py, eager to mount a eback. Their midfielders exged a feasses before attempting to push forward, but their attack broke down under pressure from Hong, and the ball rolled out for a throw-in on the left fnk.

  Kamou stepped up to take the throw-in, looking for options. He spotted Toukam making himself avaible ahe ball toward him. Toukam, always posed, trolled it and immediately shifted the py inward to Etiegnie Oloumou, who had just ehe match, repg Djoubairou after the sed goal.

  Oloumou took a touch, gng up before sending a sharp, low pass toward the right wing, aiming for Namekong.

  But Ghana’s left-back had read the pass early. Anticipating the py, he intercepted it mid-stride, cutting inside before swiftly passing it forward to his left winger.

  "Oh! Ghana intercepts! they turn this into something dangerous?"

  The Ghanaian winger wasted no time, immediately threading a through ball toward his striker, who had made a run behind Cameroon’s bae.

  Jean, however, was alert. He stepped up just in time, reading the py and intercepting before the striker could react. Without hesitation, he pyed it terally to Toukam, who trolled it calmly and advaoward midfield.

  Toukam pushed forward, reag the ter circle before passing io Hong.

  But Ghana had smelled blood. Two Ghanaian midfielders pressed Hong aggressively, one on each side, f him to react quickly. With a quick turn, he mao escape the trap ahe ball wide to Kamou on the left fnk.

  Kamou pushed forward but miscalcuted his first touch, the ball rolling slightly too far ahead. Seeing the mistake, a Ghanaian midfielder pounced, stealing possession just before Kamou could recover.

  He immediately reyed the ball to a teammate in the ter circle, who, without hesitation, passed it forward to another midfielder.

  Jean, reizing the danger, stepped up high to challenge. He luoward the Ghanaian midfielder—

  But the Ghanaiahe ball roll through his legs.

  Jean was caught off guard, his momentum carrying him forward, uo recover.

  The ball, still rolling, reached an uneven pat the pitch. Toukam, seeing the danger, rushed to correct Jean’s mistake, stepping in to intercept—

  But just as he reached for it, the ball took an ued bounce, popping slightly into the air.

  Toukam’s foot swung through empty space.

  And in that split sed, the Ghanaian right winger was there.

  "Cameroon is in trouble! The right winger bursts through with pace!"

  Njike sprinted back desperately, but the Ghanaian had already broken past the defensive line. Seeing no immediate pressure, he slid the ball across the box—

  To the left.

  Where his teammate, Ghana’s left winger, was pletely unmarked.

  Djomo, sensing the danger, rushed off his lirying to close the angle.

  But before he could get halfway, the Ghanaia winger lifted the ball—

  A perfectly timed lob.

  Djomo’s outstretched arms reached for it—

  But the ball floated just above his fiips.

  The stadium fell silent for a split sed—

  Before the rippled.

  GOAL!

  "OH, WHAT A FINISH! GHANA PULL ONE BACK!"

  The Ghanaian pyers erupted in celebration, sprinting toward their left winger, who slid on his knees in triumph. His teammates piled on, fists pumping, knowing they were ba the match.

  The Ghanaian bench leapt to their feet, g and shouting encement. Their coach, who had been looking frustrated just minutes ago, was now animated, waving his hands and urging his team forward.

  Oher side, Coach Atangana exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He had been relieved when Ghana’s earlier goal was ruled offside, but this time, there was no saving grace. He cpped his hands twice, trying tain his team’s focus.

  "2-1! Ghana cuts the lead, and now there’s a real ce for them to equalize! Nine minutes plus stoppage time to go—this game isn’t over yet!"

  Jean and Toukam exged gnces, frustration evident on their faces. They had defended so well, but one unlucky bounce had uhem. Marcel ched his fists, knowing they o stay posed.

  The small but vocal Ghanaian supporters iands roared, sensing a shift in momentum. The tension in the air was thick—Cameroon had been in trol for most of the match, but now, with time still left on the clock, they o be careful.

  …

  The goal seemed to awaken something in the Ghanaian team. With renewed urgency, they pushed fgressively, their midfielders imposing themselves physically, winning duels, and f Cameroon into deeper positions.

  Despite the growing pressure, Jean and Toukam remained resolute at the back, barking orders, intercepting passes, and blog any attempt to get a shot on goal. Ghana was relentless, but Cameroon’s defense held firm.

  Ih minute, Cameroon won a free kick just outside their box on the left after a clumsy Ghanaian challenge. Jean stepped up to take it, sing the pitch before motioning for a quick set-piece routine.

  He rolled a short pass to Oloumou, who immediately retur, creating a bit of movement to disahe Ghanaian press. Jean thehe ball back to Oloumou, who had now positioned himself in a pocket of space outside of pressure.

  Oloumou took a brief touch before pying it further forward to Hong, who was stationed he ter circle on the left side of the pitch. Hong trolled it calmly, allowing a Ghanaian midfielder to rush at him, before shifting the ball back to Oloumou, who had tinued his run forward, keeping the rhythm of the attack flowing.

  Then, with a sudden shift in paou spotted a gap opening on the left fnk. Without hesitatiohreaded a perfectly weighted through ball into the el for Marcel to chase.

  "And there it is! Mardonga is through on the left!"

  Marcel’s heart raced as he saw the spa front of him. He sprinted into the opening, taking a first touch just outside the box. A defender was closing in from his right, but he had just enough time.

  His sed touch pushed the ball slightly inward, setting up his shot.

  Then, for the first time in this match, he curled the ball perfectly.

  As soon as it left his boot, he felt it.

  It was just like in training.

  A small smile formed on his lips even before the ball hit the —he knew.

  The ball arced beautifully toward the top er, spinning precisely as he had practiced so many times. The Ghanaian goalkeeper reacted te, shifting his weight but realizing, in an instant, that he could do nothing. He barely had time to extend his arm before the ball kissed the inside of the top er .

  "OH, WHAT A GOAL! MARDONGA, TAKE A BOW!"

  The stadium erupted.

  Marcel slid onto his knees in celebration, fists ched, before leaping up and pung the air. He ran toward the camera, f a heart with his hands, sending a message to his mother, Christina, and his friends who were at school, uo watch live.

  His teammates rushed in, jumping on him, shaking him, their excitement undeniable.

  Coach Atangana, usually posed on the sidelines, grinned as he cpped proudly. This goal was a dagger—Cameroon was now in trol.

  "Ladies alemen, we are witnessing something special! Mardonga, just 14 years old, and he’s pying with the fidence of a star! Maybe his first goal had a bit of luck, but THIS one? Pure talent! Look at the way he curls it into the top er, leaving the goalkeeper helpless!"

  "We’ve already seen him terrorizing Ghana’s right-back all game with his dribbling, but this? This is a statement! He’s got the skill, the posure, and now he’s showing his finishing ability!"

  "It’s too early to pare him to Samuel Eto’o, but ohing is certain—this boy is a serious talent!"

  ……

  ……

  Among the sea of Cameroonian fans cheering iands, one figure stood out—a stark trast to the rest. Seated he middle of the crowd was an elderly white man, his weathered face partially hiddeh the brim of a bck cap. His silver-white hair, though mostly intact, showed a thinning patch at the , a testament to his age. Dressed in a sleek bck tracksuit, he exuded an air of quiet authority, his sharp eyes never leaving the pitch.

  In his hands, a small, worn notebook rested on his p, a pen gliding across the pages with methodical precision. Every few moments, he would pause, watg ily before scribbling something down.

  "Good positioning—well ahead of his age group… sharp shooting teique… natural fir… exceptional dribbling ability…" the old man murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible over the roar of the stadium.

  His gaze locked onto Marcel, who had just left his mark och with that stunning strike. The man exhaled slowly, nodding slightly to himself.

  "Hmm… perhaps I've found an unpolished gem. I just hope no one else has noticed him the way I have."

  Sliding the notebook into the pocket of his tracksuit, he shifted his attention toward the stadium cloinutes pyed. Without hesitation, he pulled out his phoapping a number as he rose from his seat. As the mateared its clusion, he casually made his way toward the exit, phone pressed to his ear.

  If anyone had been watg him closely, they might have noticed the slight smirk tugging at the er of his lips.

  ……

  ……

  The referee blew the final whistle—Cameroon had won! The scoreboard dispyed 3-1, a well-deserved victory for the Baby Lions. The Ghanaian pyers, clearly frustrated, headed straight to the locker room without much aowledgment of the result, eager troup before the sed leg.

  Oher hand, the Cameroonian pyers remained och, arms raised, smiles wide, basking in their victory. Some hugged, others cpped toward the modest crowd that had e to support them, and a few simply colpsed onto the grass, drained from the effort.

  "It’s over! Cameroon takes the first leg with a 3-1 victory! A well-earned win, but this tie is not over yet. Ghana will be a differe in Accra!" The entator’s voied through the stadium broadcast.

  Marcel, exhausted but eted, sat och, sweat trig down his face as he tried to catch his breath. His legs felt heavy, his jersey stuck to his skin, but none of that mattered—he had just pyed his first match for Cameroon, scored two goals, and been named Man of the Match.

  He gnced up at the stadium lights, taking in the moment, before feeling a firm hand on his shoulder.

  "Get up, boy," Coach Emile said, pulling him to his feet with a proud smile. "That’s exactly what I want from you. With your teique, fir, and eye foal, if you keep this up and the whole team pys like today, we achieve great things."

  Marcel, still panting, nodded. "Thank you, Coach. I’ll keep w hard."

  Coach Atangana moved around the pitch, shaking hands, patting pyers on the back, and gratuting them. He made sure to personally aowledge Jean, whose defensive performance had been a rock at the back. Ganago, Namekong, Hong, Djoubairou—all received praise.

  When Marcel finally stepped into the locker room, the mood was electric. Pyers were dang, tapping the lockers, and ting in celebration. Marcel saw Jean standing in nothing but his shorts, grinning from ear to ear—he had every reason to be happy. Like Marcel, this was his first match for Cameroon, and he had been outstanding in defense, even sg a crucial goal.

  Marcel walked over, joining the circle of pyers, and soon they were all caught in a tight group hug, ughing and shouting.

  Then, the doors swung open.

  Coach Atangaered, his expression serious but not angry. The moment the pyers saw him, the noise died down.

  "gratutions, everyohat was a well-pyed match. Despite g that goal, I am incredibly proud of ead every one of you. From defeo midfield to attack—you executed the game pn well."

  The pyers broke into appuse, heads held high with pride.

  Coach Atangana allowed them a brief moment to soak in the praise before his voice lowered slightly, bringing them back to reality.

  "However…" He let the word hang in the air for a moment. "We have only done half the job."

  The locker room fell silent. The celebration, while not erased, shifted into something more reflective.

  "Yes, we won, and yes, we have a two-goal advantage. But if you think this match was tough, just wait for the sed leg in Accra. If we go there thinking we have already qualified, we will lose—and we will lose badly."

  Some pyers exged gnces, nodding in uanding.

  "So erase that thought from your minds noon this match, but we are NOT through yet. Ghana will fight like lions in their home stadium. If we are not ready, they will punish us. Do I make myself clear?"

  The pyers nodded.

  " I t on you to finish the job in Accra?"

  "YES, COACH!" The team responded in unison.

  Coach Atangana’s eyes sed the room, making sure his words had fully sunk in. "I didn't hear you properly… I T ON YOU?!"

  "YES, COACH!!!" This time, the response was deafening.

  The coach finally allowed a small smile to return to his face.

  "Good. Now listen. We will stay together for two days to recover, then you will return to your academies and clubs. Oember 19th, we regroup and prepare for the sed leg. Enjoy tonight, but once we leave this stadium, the focus must shift back to work."

  With that, he cpped his hands once. "Finish ging and see you all in the bus."

  Marcel wiped the st drops of sweat from his forehead and began ging. The first battle had been won. But the war was far from over.