CHAPTER 44: PENALTIES.

The world exploded.

For the second time in half an hour, Emre Demir’s right foot had detonated a bomb of pure, unadulterated chaos in the Cardiff City Stadium.

The Apex players, who had been on their knees in despair moments earlier, were now sprinting, screaming, a tidal wave of black shirts engulfing their quiet, smiling savior.

Ethan stood on the sideline, but he wasn’t still.

He was jumping, pumping his fists, a wild, guttural roar of triumph tearing from his throat.

He hugged James Pearce, then a random NPC physio, then just the air itself. The sheer, glorious absurdity of it all was intoxicating.

On the pitch, the celebration was a beautiful mess.

"I DON’T BELIEVE YOU! I ACTUALLY DON’T BELIEVE YOU!" Josh Sargent was yelling, shaking Emre by the shoulders. "YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT! THAT’S NOT A REAL GOAL!"

Kenny McLean, the calm veteran, just looked at Emre with a look of profound awe. "I’ve played with some world-class players in my time, wee man," he said, his voice filled with reverence. "But I have never, ever seen anything like that. Twice. In the same game."

Emre just shrugged, a small, almost embarrassed smile on his face. "They gave me the space."

The Cardiff players, meanwhile, were ghosts.

They stood with their hands on their hips, their faces pale with shock, staring at the scoreboard as if it were a declaration of war from another dimension. Their manager had collapsed into his seat in the dugout, looking like he had seen the end of the world.

The referee finally managed to restore a semblance of order, blowing his whistle and pointing emphatically to the center circle. Penalties. The ultimate test of nerve.

As the players from both teams gathered, a new kind of tension descended. The delirious joy of the comeback was replaced by the cold, stark reality of a shootout.

Ethan gathered his exhausted, emotionally drained players in a tight huddle.

"Okay, listen to me," he said, his voice sharp and clear, cutting through their adrenaline buzz. "Look at them." He pointed to the Cardiff players, who were now arguing amongst themselves about who would take a penalty. "They’re broken. They had this game won twice, and we ripped it away from them. Their heads are gone. Ours? Ours are just getting started."

He looked around the circle of tired faces. "This isn’t about luck. This is about composure. This is about wanting it more. I need five volunteers. Five players who want to be the hero."

Hands went up immediately. The veterans—Hanley, McLean, Sargent—were first. Then, to Ethan’s surprise, Emre Demir’s hand went up, his expression calm and steady.

And finally, Viktor Kristensen, the 16-year-old who had started the game looking terrified, raised a trembling but determined hand.

"Good," Ethan said, nodding with approval. "That’s my five. In that order: McLean, Sargent, Viktor, Hanley, and Emre last."

He then pulled his goalkeeper, Angus Gunn, aside. "Gunn," he said, his voice low. "You’ve been brilliant all night. This is your stage now. Don’t try to be a mind reader. Just pick a side, go early, and be big. You’ve got this."

Gunn, a mountain of a man, just gave a slow, determined nod. "Don’t worry, gaffer. I’ll get you one."

The shootout began. The Apex fans, a tiny but vocal minority, were making all the noise. The home crowd was a nervous, silent sea of blue.

**Cardiff 1-0 Apex:** Cardiff’s captain went first, smashing his penalty into the top corner. Unstoppable.

**Cardiff 1-1 Apex:** Kenny McLean stepped up for Apex. He looked the keeper in the eye and calmly rolled the ball into the bottom left corner as the keeper dived the other way. Ice cold.

**Cardiff 2-1 Apex:** Cardiff’s second penalty was another powerful, confident strike.

**Cardiff 2-2 Apex:** Josh Sargent was next. He grinned at the keeper, did a ridiculous, stutter-step run-up, and blasted the ball straight down the middle as the keeper dived. Pure, unadulterated nerve.

**Cardiff 3-2 Apex:** Their third taker was just as clinical. The Championship side was flawless from the spot.

**Cardiff 3-2 Apex:** Now it was Viktor Kristensen’s turn.

The 16-year-old.

He placed the ball, took a deep breath, and hit it. It wasn’t a great penalty.

It was too close to the keeper.

But he hit it with such power that it flew past the keeper’s hand and bulged the net.

He let out a huge roar of relief.

**Cardiff 3-2 Apex:** Cardiff’s fourth penalty taker, their big number nine, stepped up.

He looked confident, arrogant even.

He hit the ball hard, aiming for the bottom right.

But Angus Gunn, true to his word, had picked a side and gone early.

He threw his huge frame to his left, getting a massive, strong hand to the ball and pushing it around the post.

A save! The Apex players sprinted from the halfway line to mob their keeper.

The stadium fell silent. The advantage was with Apex.

**Cardiff 3-3 Apex:** Grant Hanley, the captain, the rock, strode to the spot.

The pressure was immense. He just had to score to keep it level, putting all the pressure on their final taker. He ran up and smashed the ball with all the frustration of the last 90 minutes.

It flew into the roof of the net.

It all came down to this. Cardiff’s fifth penalty.

If they scored, it went to sudden death. If they missed, Emre Demir would have the chance to win it.

Their taker was a young midfielder who looked terrified. He placed the ball, backed away, and ran up to strike it. He hesitated for a split second. It was a fatal mistake.

He scuffed the shot, a weak, bobbling effort that trickled harmlessly towards the goal.

Angus Gunn just fell on it, smothering the ball like it was a puppy. He had saved two!

It was over. Or was it?

The Apex players started to celebrate, but Ethan held them back. They still had to score.

The weight of the entire cup run, of the million-pound prize, of the entire club’s future, now rested on the shoulders of an 18-year-old who had already produced two miracles.

Emre Demir calmly walked to the spot, placed the ball, and took his steps back. He didn’t look at the keeper. He didn’t look at the goal.

He just looked at the ball.

The stadium was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

He ran up, and with the same, effortless grace he had shown all night, he didn’t blast it. He just passed it into the corner of the net. The goalkeeper dived the wrong way.

The net bulged.

The world exploded.

Apex United had won!

The players, the staff, Ethan—everyone sprinted onto the pitch, a chaotic, joyous wave of black shirts piling on top of Emre and Angus Gunn. They had done it.

They had faced a superior team, gone 2-0 down, and won in the most dramatic, unbelievable fashion imaginable.

As Ethan was lost in the joyous pile of his victorious players, a final, shimmering golden notification appeared in his vision, a reward for a night of impossible drama.

`[SECRET OBJECTIVE COMPLETE: ’The Giant-Killer’ - Defeat a team from a higher division in a cup competition after being two or more goals behind.]`

`[REWARD: +£250,000 Prize Money Bonus]`

`[New Club Trait Unlocked: ’Steely Resolve’ - Your team now has a significantly increased resistance to negative morale shifts during matches.]`