Against All Odds: Legacy Of A Football King
Chapter 86: Ass Whooping On FIFA

Chapter 86: Ass Whooping On FIFA

Once they arrived at their apartment, the two wasted no time setting everything up. The living room transformed into a gaming haven.

Benjamin cleared the coffee table, pushing it to the side for more space, while Adam unboxed the console and games with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning.

"Hand me the HDMI cable," Benjamin said while crouching in front of the newly installed 55-inch TV.

Adam tossed it over without looking, too busy peeling the plastic off the Xbox. "You think we should call this place Game Central now?"

Benjamin scoffed, plugging in the cable. "Let’s see how long this lasts before you start whining about losing."

Adam shot him a mock glare. "Bold of you to assume I’ll lose against you."

Benjamin chuckled, fitting the final cord into place. "Alright, moment of truth. Turn it on."

Adam grabbed the controller and pressed the power button. The Xbox logo lit up the screen, accompanied by its signature chime. Both of them let out a small childish cheer, the sound oddly satisfying.

"Looks like we’re in business," Benjamin said, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans.

Adam tossed him a controller. "FIFA first, like you said. But don’t get too comfortable—I haven’t had a single loss since I could hold a controller. I’m a Pro at this."

Benjamin smirked with a hint of ridicule. "A Pro? Wow, that’s impressive."

"Hey, don’t underestimate me," Adam said, already navigating through the menus to start the game.

They settled onto the couch, the coffee table now holding snacks they’d hastily grabbed from the kitchen.

The lineup of chips, soda, and some leftover stroopwafels were their fuel for what promised to be an intense day for gaming.

The team selection started with Adam selecting Barcelona, while Benjamin surprisingly chose AZ Alkmaar.

Adam stared at Benjamin, his eyes widening in disbelief as the AZ Alkmaar logo appeared on the screen. He paused mid-sip of his soda, lowering the can with exaggerated slowness.

"You’re joking, right?" Adam finally said, turning to Benjamin with a mix of confusion and amusement. "AZ Alkmaar? Against Barcelona?"

Benjamin shrugged, his expression calm as he navigated through the lineup. "What? I’ve got to support my club."

Adam leaned back while shaking his head with a dramatic sigh. "Oh, this is too good. You just made it way too easy for me." His lips curled into an evil grin, and he began to cackle, the sound theatrical and full of mock villainy. "I’m going to destroy you, Ben. No mercy. None!"

Benjamin gave him a side glance, raising an eyebrow at the theatrics but said nothing. He simply smirked wryly, leaving Adam to revel in his imagined superiority.

As the game loaded, Adam shifted forward with elbows on his knees, and the controller gripped tightly in his hands. His face was a mask of concentration as his eyes locked on the screen like a predator about to pounce.

Benjamin, in contrast, leaned back into the couch with one arm slung over the backrest. His body language was relaxed, almost indifferent. It was as though he was more interested in the snacks than the game.

The whistle blew, and the match began. Adam was immediately on the attack, weaving through Benjamin’s defensive half with Messi.

By the 5th minute, the ball found the back of the net.

"Goal!" Adam shouted, jumping off the couch and throwing his arms up like he’d scored in real life. He turned to Benjamin with a triumphant grin plastered across his face. "That’s one! Where’s all that big talk now, huh?"

Benjamin gave a small shrug, barely glancing at him. "Nice goal."

Adam narrowed his eyes, a little unsettled by the lack of reaction from Benjamin. Still, he shrugged it off and focused on the game, his confidence soaring.

The match continued, and in the 20th minute, Adam’s persistence paid off again. He sent a well-placed shot soaring past Benjamin’s goalkeeper, the crowd on screen erupting in cheers.

"Two-nil! I’m unstoppable!" Adam declared, pointing at Benjamin. "This is going to be a massacre, Ben. A total wipeout."

Benjamin merely adjusted his butt slightly, his calm demeanor unshaken. "You done celebrating?" he asked casually.

Adam smirked, sitting back down but staying on the edge of his seat. "Oh, I’m just getting started."

By the 40th minute, Adam had racked up a third goal. He leapt up again, pumping his fist. "Three-nil! You might as well put the controller down now. This is over!"

Benjamin, still reclined on the couch, reached for a chip and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly. "You’re really enjoying yourself, huh?"

"Of course!" Adam shot back. "And you’re just sitting there, letting me have all the fun. Where’s the fight, Ben? Where’s the challenge?"

Benjamin’s lips twitched in amusement, but he didn’t respond. The first half ended with the score firmly in Adam’s favor, and he couldn’t stop grinning as the players on screen walked off the pitch.

When the second half kicked off, Adam wasted no time. By the 50th minute, he netted his fourth goal, his celebration louder than ever.

"That’s four!" he said, turning to Benjamin with a mocking laugh. "What’s the matter? Did I break your spirit already?"

Benjamin finally leaned forward, his posture shifting. The relaxed smile on his face morphed into a sharp, evil smirk. He rested his elbows on his knees, and his gaze now laser-focused on the screen.

"Your free trial is over," Benjamin said, his tone low but brimming with confidence. "Now, I’m getting serious."

Adam scoffed, waving him off. "Oh, please. Don’t act like you can come back from this. I’ve got you completely outclassed."

Benjamin didn’t reply. His smirk widened as he resumed the game, his fingers moving with newfound precision on the controller.

The shift in his demeanor sent a small shiver down Adam’s spine, though he quickly shook it off.

"Bring it on," Adam muttered, gripping his controller tighter.

The second half quickly turned into a spectacle.

Benjamin’s first goal came out of nowhere, after a sharp counterattack with his AZ Alkmaar striker slipping through Adam’s defense and slotting the ball past Víctor Valdés.

"Alright, alright, one goal. Big deal," Adam muttered, but his voice lacked its earlier bravado. He leaned forward while gripping the controller like a lifeline.

Benjamin stayed silent, his eyes glued to the screen. His movements were quick, deliberate. Another interception, another lightning-fast break, and another goal. This time in the 55th minute.

"4-2," Benjamin said casually, his tone almost bored, but there was a glint in his eyes that made Adam shift uncomfortably.

Adam laughed nervously. "Alright, two goals. That’s cute. But you’re not catching up."

Benjamin didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed harder, cutting through Adam’s midfield with ease. His next goal came five minutes later, an absolute screamer from outside the box that left Adam speechless.

"4-3," Benjamin murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

Adam gulped, his hands beginning to sweat. "I—I just need one more to put this away," he muttered, more to himself than to Benjamin.

But Benjamin was relentless now. His defense tightened, leaving no openings. Every time Adam tried to push forward, the ball was stripped away. By the 65th minute, Benjamin equalized with a cheeky chip over the keeper.

"4-4," Benjamin said, leaning back slightly with a smug grin.

"What the hell?!" Adam yelled, his voice cracking. He threw a hand in the air, pointing at the screen. "How did you—? I swear you were just messing around earlier!"

Benjamin simply hummed while scrolling through the replay with an infuriating calmness.

From there, the floodgates opened. Benjamin’s next goal was a swift volley off a corner kick. The one after that was a perfectly timed through ball that split Adam’s defense like it wasn’t even there.

Adam’s hands trembled as the score climbed. 6-4. Then 7-4. He started making mistakes—poor passes, mistimed tackles. Benjamin punished every single one.

By the time the 10th goal hit the net in the 89th minute, Adam had gone pale. His controller rested limply in his hands, and he stared at the screen like it had personally betrayed him.

The final whistle blew and the scoreline appeared bodly on the TV screen: 10-4.

Benjamin leaned back on the couch with a satisfied sigh, stretching his arms above his head. "Good game," he said lightly, reaching for another chip.

Adam’s mouth opened and closed multiple times, but no words came out. His eyes glistened, disbelief written all over his face.

He turned to Benjamin, his voice barely above a whisper. "You... you were toying with me the whole time, weren’t you?"

Benjamin glanced at him with a slight upward curl on his lips. "What gave it away?"

Adam groaned, slumping into the couch and burying his face in his hands. "I can’t believe this. I actually thought I had you."

Benjamin shrugged, popping another chip into his mouth. "You had your trial. But hey, you’re not completely terrible."

Adam shot him a glare, his face red with frustration. "Don’t talk to me."

Benjamin chuckled, grabbing the controller. "Want a rematch?"

Adam groaned louder, tossing a pillow at him. "Get out of here, you smug jerk!"

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A/N- Thanks for the support y’all. Don’t forget to throw some golden tickets and power stones at me. Your gifts are also appreciated...