SSS-Class MILFs And Their Yandere Daughters, I Want Them All!-Chapter 379: You Don’t Stand A Chance

That caught everyone completely off guard.

"Football?" one of the humans muttered, blinking.

"Did he just say...football?" a demi-human echoed.

Regan nodded firmly, folding his arms.

"Exactly that. You’re fighting over a football pitch? Then settle it the proper way—with a match."

"Not with fists, not with spells, not with wings or claws—just a simple football game."

He looked around, scanning both sides.

"Winner gets the field. Loser shuts up and goes home. Simple."

There was a long pause—and then murmurs started spreading.

"Actually...that kinda makes sense."

"Yeah, it’s a football field after all..."

"That’s...surprisingly reasonable."

Regan smiled slightly, feeling relief creep in.

"Exactly! So instead of bickering and scaring everyone half to death, how about you both form your teams and play it out?"

The human side reacted first.

The captain of the human team—a tall, blonde, broad-shouldered young man with a cocky grin—stepped forward, spinning a ball on his finger.

"We don’t mind that at all, sir." He said smugly. "Sounds perfect to me."

The rest of the human players nodded eagerly, cracking their knuckles and smirking at the demi-humans.

"Yeah, let’s do it! It’s been a while since we’ve had some fun."

Their confidence was almost palpable and Regan smiled, thinking he had finally calmed things down—until a sharp voice rang out.

"No! Absolutely not! It’s not fair!"

Everyone turned in confusion—and found a demi-human boy standing forward this time.

He had short silver hair, large bat-like ears, and a pair of leathery wings folded behind his back.

His eyes were fierce as he held up a ball of his own.

"This isn’t fair at all!" He protested.

Regan blinked. "What do you mean?"

The demi-human boy flapped his wings once, visibly frustrated.

"Because their team...." He pointed at the humans. "...is made up of actual academy representatives!"

"They’re professionals-in-training—half of them already have contracts lined up with big clubs!"

"How are we supposed to compete with that?"

A murmur of surprise spread through the crowd.

Most of them hadn’t known that.

Regan looked at the humans, who only smiled smugly.

"That’s right." Their captain chuckled. "We’re the academy’s official representatives. So if you wanna take us on—better bring your best."

The demi-human boy glared as he said,

"Meanwhile, our team only started playing football this semester! It’s just a hobby for us! We don’t even know all the rules properly yet!"

"Exactly!" another demi-human shouted. "We’ll be crushed out there! This isn’t a fair match at all!"

Their frustration made sense—it really would be like throwing amateurs against professionals.

Regan scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Ah...well...I didn’t quite know that part." He admitted awkwardly. "Still, there’s got to be someone among you who’s good at the sport, right? You can just take their place and play."

He gestured at the crowd of demi-humans.

"Come on! There’s like a hundred of you! Surely some of you know how to kick a ball?"

"...I’ll even give the other team a handicap, so that it doesn’t feel unfair."

But no one stepped forward.

He looked around again.

"Anyone? Anyone at all?"

Silence. Every demi-human avoided eye contact. A few even took a step back.

Regan sighed, "You’ve got to be kidding me. There’s no way that not even one person knows how to play."

Finally, Ursula, stepped forward. She bowed slightly toward him.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Regan, none of us are particularly skilled in this...’football’ of yours." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"...You’re joking"

"I’m not. After all, it’s not exactly a sport that exists in our world." Ursula explained patiently. "We have our own games, of course—many sports, actually—but football is...rather foreign to us."

Regan groaned. "Of course it is..."

"But." Ursula continued, a small smile tugging at her lips. "if we played one of our games, we would definitely have confidence."

That sparked murmurs across the demi-human side.

"Yeah, that’s true!"

"We could play our games instead!"

"Why should we use their rules?"

Nuri perked up slightly.

"That’s right! Let’s change the game!" She said, fluttering her wings. "We’ll pick something both sides can—"

"NO WAY!" The humans shouted in unison.

"This is our field!" One yelled. "And this is a football field!"

"Exactly!" Another added. "The PE teacher said it himself—if you’re fighting over the pitch, you settle it with football!"

Instantly, the shouting started again—one side yelling for a different sport, the other refusing to budge.

Regan pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself.

"Great...I tried to fix it, and now it’s even worse."

But just as his headache began to peak, he caught sight of Mika.

And then, it hit him.

Like divine inspiration.

Regan’s eyes widened, a sudden gleam of hope flickering in them as he straightened up and pointed dramatically toward Mika.

"Mika! You—you—YOU can take their place!"

The words echoed across the field.

Mika blinked. "...Me?"

Regan nodded so fast his bald head reflected the sunlight.

"Yes, you! Most definitely you!"

"You can’t be serious."

"Oh, I’m completely serious!" Regan said, his tone almost desperate. "I’ve seen you play, Mika! Don’t try to act modest—I know how good you are! You think I don’t notice my students?"

"Even if you don’t join your class’s practice sessions, since let’s be honest no one wants to play with you—I’ve seen you on the lower grounds, juggling the ball alone."

"You’re a natural—a master, really!"

"Master?" Mika repeated flatly.

Regan nodded furiously.

"Yes! You’ve got unbelievable control, precision, and that thing—that flair—that professional players dream of! I even asked you to join the academy’s football team multiple times, remember?"

"You refused every time, which was a tragedy, but—"

He raised his finger triumphantly.

"—now is your moment! You can use those skills to help the demi-humans since, well, you’re clearly siding with them right now."

The moment those words left his mouth, the humans’ football team practically lit up.

Their captain stepped forward with a smirk that could curdle milk.

"Oh, this is perfect. This is absolutely perfect."

Another player snickered. "Yeah, let the cursed boy try. Let’s see how long he lasts before crying."

They were already grinning ear to ear, thrilled at the thought of playing against him.

To them, this was the golden opportunity to humiliate the boy everyone whispered about.

The one who somehow drew the attention of Lady Astrid herself.

"Let’s do it." one of them said confidently. "We’ll crush him and show everyone where he belongs."

But the demi-humans side was nowhere near as enthusiastic.

"No, no, no, that’s not fair!" One protested. "Even if he’s good, he’s still one person! We’ll be slaughtered!"

The other demi-humans nodded in agreement, shouting over each other.

"There’s no way he can handle that alone!"

"They’re professionals! It’s suicide!"

"We can’t accept this!"

They were panicking—and not without reason.

The human team weren’t just students; they were elite athletes, trained and scouted by professional clubs.

Even if Mika was good, there was no way he could hold his own against a full, trained squad.

Regan looked at both sides awkwardly.

"Er, well, maybe we can adjust the rules a little bit—"

But before he could finish, a sharp voice cut through the noise.

"No! Never! I’ll never accept that!"

The tone was sharp, proud, and full of outrage.

Everyone turned toward it—expecting another demi-human to be complaining.

But to their surprise, it wasn’t.

It was Astrid.

Her arms were folded, her expression sharp but...oddly conflicted.

Her declaration shocked everyone. Even Regan froze mid-sentence, blinking at her in confusion.

"Oh, uh—Astrid?" He asked hesit6. "Are you saying that because you think it’s unfair to Mika?"

A few students nodded quickly, whispering among themselves.

"She must be defending him!"

"See? She still cares about him after all!"

Regan smiled a little, relieved.

"I mean, I understand, of course. It’s not exactly fair to pit him alone against your entire team."

"Maybe we can arrange something like a penalty shootout or—"

But before he could finish, Astrid’s cold, dismissive voice cut him off.

"What are you talking about?" She said flatly.

Regan blinked. "Pardon?"

Astrid’s gaze narrowed. "Do you really think I’m saying this for his sake?"

That question alone froze everyone.

Regan hesitated. "...Aren’t you?"

Astrid let out a sharp, humorless laugh before turning her head slightly, her icy blue eyes landing on her own football team—the proud, professional players who stood confidently behind her.

"No." She said calmly. "I’m saying this for their sake."

The crowd went dead quiet.

Even Mika, who’d been watching with mild boredom, raised an eyebrow.

Astrid’s tone grew firmer as she continued,

"Because if you put them against Mika...." She said, nodding toward him. "...they’ll lose. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. They don’t stand a chance at all."

Her words dropped like thunder.

For a moment, there was silence. And then, chaos.

"WHAT?!"

"Did she just—?"

"Did she seriously just say that one guy could beat the entire human team?"

"That’s insane! There’s no way!"

"I love Lady Astrid, but this...this is a bit much, right?"

Meanwhile, the human football team stood frozen—eyes wide, jaws hanging.

The smugness from earlier evaporated instantly, replaced with raw disbelief.

Their captain stepped forward, his voice cracking.

"L-Lady Astrid...you don’t actually mean that, right?"

But Astrid didn’t even look at him. Her gaze stayed fixed on Mika, her expression unwavering.

"Oh, I mean every word." She said coldly. "If my little broth—"

"I mean if that boy steps onto the pitch, you’ll all be humiliated before the match even reaches halftime."

Her voice wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t teasing.

It was pure conviction, the kind that made it impossible to think she was joking.

And that, somehow, made it sting even more.

The human team’s faces turned red, some from anger, others from embarrassment.

They could barely believe what they were hearing.

"Is...Is she serious?" One whispered.

"She’s underestimating us!" Another growled.

"Humiliated by him?! No way!"

But what made it worse wasn’t just what she said—it was how she said it.

Astrid wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t taunting. She was worried.

Her expression wasn’t arrogant; it was tense.

Almost as if she already knew how this would end if Mika were to step forward and she wanted to prevent it at all costs.