Before the second match against Team Blue, the dog-masked man spoke again, his voice carrying an ominous weight.
"Now that there has been a single goal, there is only one left for the match to be completed..."
A senile smirk curled onto his lips as he observed the expressions of Team Red. One after another, they turned to see the large digital clock on the wall, its numbers relentlessly counting down from fifteen minutes.
The news was a shock—exactly what the dog-masked man had intended. Panic settled over them, creeping into their bones like a venomous chill.
'Football cannot be played without stakes,' he mused internally, savoring the moment. 'Saying this now... I shall see the effect on their determination.'
"Please begin."
As the whistle blew, the players did not rush into an attack as they had before. A heavy silence loomed between them, and an unseen pressure bore down upon their shoulders. This match was no longer just a game—it was survival.
