When Lincoln High's bus finally pulled into the school lot, it was already past 10:00 PM.
The sky had gone quiet. Stars blinked down, hazy behind city light. The parking lot lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows over tired faces and dragging footsteps.
The players filed out slowly—sore, drained, victorious.
Julian stepped down last, his breath fogging in the night air.
And she was there.
Leaning against her black sedan like a sentinel in the dark, arms crossed, eyes locked onto him the moment he appeared.
Crest.
Her long coat fluttered slightly in the breeze, and her expression was unreadable—but her presence? It roared louder than anyone else's welcome.
Julian met her eyes.
She didn't speak. Didn't scold. But the tension in her stance told him everything.
She had watched the clock tick past the hour.
She had imagined him collapsing again.
She had feared worse.
But instead of words, she stepped forward, opened the passenger door, and waited.
Julian gave a small nod.
He was still sore. Still aching. But the pain was dulled now—smothered by the system's cocktail of enhancers, suppressors, and recovery boosters.
The Healing Serum, Stamina Improver, and Injury Reducer hadn't made him invincible.
But they had made him last.
At least tonight, he didn't leave the field unconscious.
At least tonight… he could still stand.
Julian slid into the seat, dropped his bag beside him, and let his head lean against the window.
The world blurred as exhaustion caught him in its arms. The engine hummed to life, and the black sedan rolled away from Lincoln High—silent, smooth, and steady.
He was asleep before they even left the lot.
Crest glanced at him once. Just once.
He had slumped forward a little, arms crossed, mouth slightly parted in sleep.
His brows were still furrowed—like even in dreams, he was fighting something.
She adjusted the heater slightly. Just a notch warmer.
Crest's eyes returned to the road, both hands steady on the wheel.
She didn't say a word.
But inside, something in her chest finally unclenched.
Julian was safe.
And for tonight… that was enough.
…
It was Saturday. A rare day off.
And Julian slept like the dead.
The world outside spun on—sunlight creeping past curtains, birds trilling in the cold morning air—but none of it reached him. His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Once. Then again. Then a third time.
He didn't move.
His body demanded rest. His mind needed silence.
His soul, still raw from the night before, simply… shut down.
Hours passed.
When he finally opened his eyes, the soreness still gripped him—but it had dulled, fading to something manageable. He sat up slowly, rubbing his temple.
"…Still hurts," he muttered, voice hoarse.
But at least it was pain he could walk with.
Still, something bothered him. A lesson from the last game whispered at the edge of his thoughts:
I need more items.
Not luck. Not brute force.
Tools.
If he had to push his body again like last night—he'd be ready next time.
[No mission for me, ASHI?]
Julian thought the words silently, blinking toward the ceiling.
A pause.
Then his phone buzzed again—more aggressive this time.
Call.
LEO.
Julian sighed and picked it up.
"Hey, dude!" Leo's voice exploded through the speaker. "How the hell are you not picking up? I've called like, I don't know, eight times!"
"Sorry," Julian croaked. "Just woke up."
"You earned the sleep, I'll give you that. But hey—listen up. Party tonight. I'm texting you the address."
"Party?" Julian raised a brow. "Why?"
Leo laughed. "Because we beat a playoff team and your freak show goal's probably already viral, man! C'mon, make some social media or something! Join the real world!"
Click. The call ended.
Julian stared at the screen for a second.
Social media.
He had heard the words before—half-ignored them in ads or school talk—but now he typed them into search.
ZTube. Snapgram. FaceLink. Y.
The names sounded ridiculous. But what he found was even crazier.
A whole world built around fame.
People streaming food. Dancing for views. Talking to a camera about their day.
Fame wasn't just admiration here—it was currency. Status. Influence.
Power.
Just like in his old world.
The nobles paraded achievements, forged false legends, made their names matter more than their swords.
He hated that part of the past.
But now…
…
[System Quest Alert]
Claim The Fame
Make The social Media
Ztube Snapgram Facelink Y
Reward : Fame system Active
[ Accept Quest? ]
[Yes] [No]
…
Julian squinted.
"ASHI, what is the Fame System?"
[Please complete the quest to unlock description.]
Tch. Typical.
Fine.
He started with an email—copying a random tutorial on ZTube—and began signing up.
The first platform asked for a profile photo.
Julian searched "martial artist blue flame" out of habit.
A single anime-style image appeared—a lone fighter cloaked in dark robes, fire roaring from his fists, a shadow of a crown behind him.
It made his heart skip.
That's me.
He uploaded the image.
Then came the username.
@CrownInExile — taken.
@AshenRex — taken.
@ObsidianCrown — taken.
Julian stared at the screen, then typed slowly, deliberately.
@AshenEmperor
Accepted.
Locked.
A silence passed.
Then—
…
[Quest Complete]
Claim The Fame
Make The social Media
Ztube Snapgram Facelink Y
Reward : Fame system Active
[ Accept Reward? ]
[Yes] [No]
…
He tapped [Yes].
The screen flickered—brighter, almost alive—
And then, inside his mind, like a whisper carried on wind:
[Fame System Unlocked.]
Welcome to the stage.
Julian leaned back, eyes narrowing.
"Okay, ASHI. Start explaining."
The little blue goblin's voice rang out in his mind, confident and sharp:
[Of course, Host. The Fame System works based on your follower count. Each level reflects your public influence. The higher the tier, the greater the rewards—items, attribute boosts, skills, and more.]
ASHI's voice shifted slightly, now reading as if from an invisible guidebook:
…
FAME TIERS
• Unknown: 0 – 999 followers
• Noticed: 1,000 – 9,999 followers
• Local Buzz: 10,000 – 49,999 followers
• Rising Prospect: 50,000 – 199,999 followers
• Regional Star: 200,000 – 499,999 followers
• National Star: 500,000 – 999,999 followers
• Breakout Prodigy: 1 Million – 4.9 Million followers
• Global Contender: 5 Million – 19.9 Million followers
• World Superstar: 20 Million – 99.9 Million followers
• Legend: 100 Million+ followers
…
[Each level unlocks a reward pack. From recovery items to powerful artifacts. From passive boosts to mystic skills. Everything tailored to your journey.]
[Because to become the GOAT… you can't just dominate the pitch. You have to inspire. You have to become a symbol.]
Julian didn't answer right away.
But he understood.
All too well.
In his previous life, the strongest weren't just warriors.
They were icons. Chosen champions. Legends the world looked to when darkness rose.
He used to hate that part.
"But if it's necessary… then fine."
He stared down at his screen one last time.
His profile glowed softly—no posts, no followers.
Only a name.
@AshenEmperor
But it wouldn't stay quiet for long.
Because soon...
The world would know.
The world would follow.
The world would kneel.