CHAPTER 487: 1

The hotel room was quiet. The only sound was the hum of the air conditioning.

Alex sat on the floor. He was stretching his legs.

Jude Bellingham was lying on the bed. He was throwing a tennis ball at the ceiling.

"Thump. Catch. Thump. Catch."

"Jude," Alex said. "Please stop. You are hypnotizing me."

"I am bored," Jude said. "The waiting is the hardest part. I want to play."

"We play tomorrow," Alex said. "Senegal. The Round of 16."

" The Lions of Teranga," Jude said. He sat up. "They are strong. They run hard. They have Koulibaly. He is a mountain."

"Mountains can be climbed," Alex said calmly.

His phone buzzed on the floor.

It was a text from Maya.

"Analysis of Senegal complete. They play with a high intensity. Their midfield is physical. But they leave gaps between the lines when they press. Also, please tell Mark to stop texting me about croissants. He has sent me twelve pictures of pastry today."

Alex smiled.

"I will tell him," Alex typed back.

He stood up and walked to the window.

Doha was glowing in the night. It looked like a city from the future.

Somewhere out there, Mark was preparing for his game against Poland.

If France won... and if England won...

They would meet in the Quarter Final.

Alex shook his head.

"One game at a time," he whispered.

"Did you say something?" Jude asked.

"No," Alex said. "Just thinking."

"You are always thinking, Professor," Jude laughed. "Give your brain a rest. Watch a movie."

"I cannot," Alex said. "My brain does not have an off switch."

Sunday. Al Bayt Stadium.

The stadium was huge. It looked like a giant Bedouin tent.

The fans were loud.

The England fans were singing songs about tea and the King.

The Senegal fans were playing drums.

It was not just a few drums. It was a rhythm. A constant, beating heart of sound.

Alex stood in the tunnel.

Kalidou Koulibaly stood next to him. The Senegal captain. He was huge. He looked like he was made of granite.

He looked down at Alex.

"You are small," Koulibaly said.

"I am compact," Alex replied.

"I will crush you," Koulibaly said simply. It was not a threat. It was a statement of fact.

"You have to catch me first," Alex said.

Harry Kane turned around.

"Focus," Harry said. "This is knockout football. One mistake and we go home. Do not let them bully you."

The music started.

They walked out.

The noise hit them. The drums were vibrating in the floor.

Milo was there.

He was standing near the corner flag.

He was wearing a safari outfit. A khaki shirt. Khaki shorts. And a pith helmet. He was holding a whip and a wooden chair.

"THE LION TAMER!" Milo shouted. "ALEX! I AM HERE TO CONTROL THE BEASTS! I AM SELLING BRAVERY! LIQUID COURAGE! IT IS JUST APPLE JUICE! BUT IT IS VERY TART!"

"Milo, put the chair down," Alex said as he walked past.

"I NEED IT FOR DEFENSE!" Milo yelled. "LIONS BITE!"

The whistle blew.

The game started.

Senegal did not wait. They attacked.

They were fast. Sarr ran down the wing. He was electric.

He crossed the ball.

Boulaye Dia shot.

Pickford made a save.

"Wake up!" Pickford screamed at his defenders.

Senegal were physical. Every time Alex got the ball, a blue shirt smashed into him.

In the tenth minute, Alex tried to turn. Mendy hit him.

Alex flew into the air. He landed hard.

The referee waved play on.

"Welcome to the jungle!" Mendy shouted.

Alex stood up. He rubbed his hip.

"Okay," Alex thought. "Physics lesson one. If you cannot move the object, go around the object."

Twenty minutes passed. England struggled. The drums were getting louder.

"They are too strong!" Jude yelled. "I bounce off them!"

"Do not fight the strength," Alex said. "Use the geometry."

Thirty eighth minute.

Alex got the ball deep.

Koulibaly stepped up. He wanted to crush Alex.

Alex waited. He saw Jude making a run from deep.

But the passing lane was blocked.

Alex looked at Harry Kane.

Harry dropped deep. He pulled a defender with him.

This created a space. A triangle of space.

Alex passed to Harry.

Harry turned.

Jude was still running.

Harry passed to Jude.

Jude was in the box.

He did not shoot. He looked up.

Jordan Henderson was arriving.

Jude cut the ball back.

Henderson side footed the ball into the net.

Goal.

One zero. England.

The drums stopped for a second. The England fans cheered.

"Geometry!" Alex shouted. "Triangles!"

Jude ran to Alex. "The triangle worked! You saw the space before it happened!"

Halftime. One zero.

Gareth Southgate was intense.

"They will come at you now," Gareth said. "They have nothing to lose. They will throw everything. Be calm. Be clinical."

Second half.

Senegal attacked.

But this left gaps.

Fifty seventh minute.

Alex won the ball near his own box.

He saw the pitch open up.

He started to run.

Koulibaly tried to catch him. But Alex was not running in a straight line. He was drifting.

He saw Phil Foden on the left.

Alex played a perfect pass.

Foden controlled it.

Harry Kane was running through the middle.

Foden passed to Kane.

Kane smashed it.

Goal.

Two zero.

The game was in control.

But Alex wanted a goal. He wanted to leave his mark.

Sixty fifth minute.

Phil Foden got the ball on the wing.

Alex made a run. Not into the box. But to the edge of the box. The "Zone 14".

Foden saw him.

Foden cut the ball back.

Alex ran onto it.

He saw the goalkeeper, Edouard Mendy.

Mendy was big. He covered the goal.

Alex remembered the golf talk with Gareth Bale. The wedge.

Alex did not smash it.

He clipped it.

He put his toe under the ball.

The ball popped up. It went slow. It looked like a balloon.

It floated over the leg of the defender.

It floated over the hand of the goalkeeper.

It dropped gently into the corner of the net.

Goal.

Three zero.

Alex stood there. He smiled.

"Soft touch," he whispered.

Saka jumped on his back. "You are cheeky! That was a cheeky goal!"

"Precision beats power," Alex laughed.

The final whistle blew.

England 3. Senegal 0.

They were in the Quarter Finals.

Alex walked off the pitch. He was tired. His legs hurt from the tackles.

But he was happy.

Milo ran onto the pitch. He had lost the chair.

"THE KING OF THE JUNGLE!" Milo screamed. "WE TAMED THEM! ALEX! THE CHIP! I AM SELLING SAFARI TOURS! SEE THE LIONS WEEP! ONLY ONE HUNDRED POUNDS!"

"Milo, please go back to the hotel," Alex laughed.

"I CANNOT!" Milo said. "I HAVE A BUSINESS MEETING WITH A ZEBRA!"

Alex shook his head.

He walked into the dressing room.

The music was loud. The players were dancing.

But Alex went to the TV screen.

The France vs Poland game had finished earlier.

He looked at the score.

France 3. Poland 1.

Mbappe had scored two goals.

And...

Giroud had scored one.

Wait.

Alex looked closer.

The assist for the Giroud goal.

Assist: Mark Speed.

Alex swallowed.

He took out his phone.

There was a message from Mark.

It was a video.

Alex pressed play.

The video showed Mark sitting in a gold bathtub (why was there a gold bathtub?). He was wearing a crown. He was holding a baguette like a sword.

"HELLO PROFESSOR," Mark shouted in the video. "I SEE YOU WON. CONGRATULATIONS. YOU BEAT THE LIONS."

Mark took a bite of the baguette.

"BUT NOW," Mark said, pointing the bread at the camera. "NOW YOU FACE THE ROOSTER. NOW YOU FACE THE EMPEROR."

Mark stood up in the bath. He was wearing his full France kit.

"SATURDAY," Mark yelled. "AL BAYT STADIUM. YOU. ME. THE WORLD IS WATCHING. DO NOT BE LATE. AND BRING YOUR RUNNING SHOES. YOU WILL NEED THEM."

The video ended.

Alex stared at the screen.

Jude sat next to him.

"Was that Mark?" Jude asked.

"Yes," Alex said.

"Is he sitting in a gold bath?"

"Yes."

"He is weird," Jude said.

"He is my best friend," Alex said.

"And on Saturday," Jude said seriously. "He is your enemy."

Alex nodded.

He put the phone in his pocket.

This was it.

The game everyone wanted to see.

England vs France.

The Professor vs The Emperor.

Structure vs Chaos.

Alex looked around the room.

Harry Kane was smiling. Saka was laughing.

They were ready.

But France were the Champions. They had the trophy. They had Mbappe. And they had Mark, who was faster than a cheetah on espresso.

"Saturday," Alex whispered.

He felt a shiver go down his spine.

It was not fear.

It was excitement.

He stood up.

"Hey Jude," Alex said.

"Yeah?"

"Let us go eat," Alex said. "I need energy."

"For what?"

"For the race," Alex said.

They walked out of the dressing room.

The tunnel was empty.

But in his head, Alex could already hear the roar of the crowd on Saturday.

The Dynasty was reaching the climax.

And the biggest test was just days away.

Alex walked into the desert night.

He looked at the moon.

"I am ready for you, Mark," he said to the stars.

"Bring your baguette. I will bring the tea."

The war had begun.