Fantasy Football-Chapter 29: Underworld Scene.

The next day arrived, and as usual, the team went through their routine training, however just before they could leave, Mystic gathered them and said they had somewhere else to be.

Strangely, no one questioned him; they all boarded the club bus, and after about an hour of driving, they reached their destination, a location that left most of the players surprised. But one player recognized it instantly: Tasty.

“The Underground Stadium,” he muttered, eyes narrowing.

The moment he said it, everyone’s expression changed, even those who had never been there had heard of it.

The Underground Stadium was infamous, known for its high-stakes betting exhibition matches, it was a place where teams wagered against each other, and the winner took all.

The only caveat was that twenty percent of the bounty went to the organizer’s, and it is what they called a “house fee.”

Officially, that fee was said to go toward stadium maintenance and operational costs.

However in reality, it was just a front, an easy way for the criminal gang that controlled the stadium to rake in even more profit.

Because between the betting income, the crowd turnout, and all the legal and illegal activities running in the background, they were making a killing.

Still, the clubs who played there didn’t complain, as being blacklisted by the Underground Stadium group meant no more exposure, no more matches, and no more earnings from there.

As the bus rolled into the stadium’s driveway, the players stepped down, each carrying a small kit bag with their gear and essentials.

Mystic stood before them.

“Listen to me carefully, no regular football club allows their players to step into a place like this, and that is because there are no rules here. Injuries are common, and anything can happen on that pitch.” he began.

He paused, looking each of them in the eyes.

“But by now, I’m sure you’ve realized I’m not like most coaches. In fact, I’ll admit it—my technical knowledge of the game may not be world-class yet... but that’s exactly why we’re here.”

"However, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I have a plan, and I know it’ll work, as long as you all believe in me. Now, let’s get down to business and the real reason I brought you here. Don’t for a second think you came here just to spectate, every single one of you will be playing today. As I’ve already reserved a spot.”

“This is because, while I see great potential in this team, potential alone isn’t enough, you all lack real match experience. And this—this is where you’ll get it. Get ready to dominate. and while at it Let’s go make the club some money too, we’re already running low,” Mystic added before turning and leading the way toward the stadium.

On their approach, Mystic spotted Alfred and Viper waiting near the entrance.

“Baba Nla (big boss), you made it right on time. Let’s head in,” Viper said after Mystic exchanged greetings with his uncle.

The players followed, offering their own greetings, the moment the bouncers saw Viper, they waved the entire group through without any checks.

–

A few days earlier, Mystic had called his uncle, informing him of his desire to get the team involved in black-underground football matches, any underground games that would give them playing time before the Street Championship began.

His uncle had tried to talk him out of it, warning that such matches weren’t ideal for a team preparing for an official tournament.

As underground football matches were brutal, and there were barely any fouls, no proper rules, and teams often played like their lives and wallets—depended on it, which it did by the way.

Injuries were common, and violence was practically part of the entertainment for the bloodthirsty crowd.

But Mystic stood firm, he wasn’t asking for permission; he simply wanted his uncle to know, out of respect, and because he had always included Alfred in his decisions, he made it clear that even if his uncle refused to help, he’d still find a way.

Realizing how determined Mystic was, Alfred eventually relented and contacted Viper to arrange a match for the Dark Elites.

And being the one who had recruited most of Mystic’s players, and having been properly settled for his troubles, Viper was more than happy to help, and setting up a match in the underground stadium might be difficult for most people, but never for a street boss.

All it took was a single phone call, and his influence handled the rest.

As they stepped inside, the players were immediately hit by a wave of noise, loud, fanatic cheers roaring across the entire stadium.

From the outside, the arena looked modest, even run-down.

But once inside, it revealed an immense underground coliseum, though it was originally designed to seat thirty thousand, it regularly squeezed in over fifty thousand people on major match days, with fans packed in shoulder to shoulder, yelling, cursing, and cheering.

From where they stood, the Dark Elites could see two teams battling it out on the pitch.

It wasn’t elegant or tactical, there was no finesse, no refined technique, this was raw, unfiltered football.

A brutal war of strength, speed, and endurance.

Strength to hold possession.

Speed to carry the ball forward.

Endurance to survive the chaos.

The sheer intensity of the match sent adrenaline pumping through their veins, as they quickly found seats and locked in, watching every movement.

Mystic, on the other hand, was already analyzing, observing the level of the players, their movements, and endurance, though the system didn’t show their talents or full stats, he could at least see their levels and stamina bars, which was enough to make assessments.

“Ahhh! I can’t believe these boys still haven’t managed a single goal. That’s another five hundred alliance credits down the drain,” Viper groaned beside him, frustrated as the match neared its end.

Just as he grumbled, a dark-skinned woman with a striking figure and a sharp uniform approached their section. Her eyes scanned them briefly before speaking.

“Dark Elites, right?” she asked.

Mystic shifted his attention to her, nodding.

“Yes, that’s us.”

“Well, you’re up in the next twenty minutes, so we’d appreciate it if your team heads to the changing room and gets ready, the room’s been cleaned and cleared for your use,” the woman said.

Mystic gave her a nod and smiled, then stood to follow. Behind him, the rest of the Dark Elites rose from their seats, each player mentally preparing for what would be their first official match in the underworld scene.

They couldn’t deny it, most of them were nervous as hell.

But mixed with that nervousness was a powerful excitement, after going through the stimulation match, they felt more prepared than ever.

In hindsight, even their earlier training now felt unusually light during the day, as if Mystic had been deliberately conserving their energy for this moment.

Now that they were finally about to step into a real match, all they wanted was to give it their all—and to get through it without injury.

–

Roughly ten minutes later, the Dark Elites were fully kitted out in their sleek black jerseys lined with crimson stripes running down the sides. They stood waiting in one of the underground stadium’s tunnel entrances.

Unlike regular stadiums, this one had four separate tunnels leading onto the pitch, designed that way so both teams would emerge from different ends, avoiding any pre-match confrontations.

All that remained was the official break between matches to end and for the commentator to call them onto the field.

Meanwhile, the players from the previous match were already leaving through the other unoccupied tunnels, their battered forms limping off as the Dark Elites quietly soaked in

the atmosphere, awaiting their turn under the harsh lights of the underworld.