Saturday. 7:15 PM. Eco-Power Stadium Tunnel.
The adrenaline was still humming in Kwame's blood, but his body felt heavy. He stood against the sponsor board, the bright lights of the camera rig blinding him slightly.
The reporter, a man from Sky Sports this time, adjusted his earpiece.
"We're live in three, two..."
The red light blinked on.
"I'm here with the Man of the Match, Kwame Aboagye. A stunning 4-2 victory for Crewe Alexandra over Doncaster, and you were at the heart of everything in that second half. Two assists, and you completely changed the tempo. Kwame, we missed you on Tuesday night after the Notts County game. I heard you were too exhausted to speak to us?"
Kwame nodded, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Yeah. I left everything out there on Tuesday. Dr. Patel told me to rest."
"Well, the rest clearly worked," the reporter smiled. "You've now got 4 assists in your first three league appearances. That is a frightening strike rate for a defensive midfielder. With thirteen games left, people are looking at the stats. Jodi Jones at Notts County is sitting on 19 assists. Do you think, with this form, you could actually be a contender for that Playmaker Award by May?"
It was a throwaway question. A softball. The expected answer was: "Oh, I'm just focused on the team, Jodi is a great player, we'll see."
Kwame opened his mouth to say just that.
But then he paused.
He thought about the two years he spent sitting on the bench in the U18s. He thought about the 2 AM sprints. He thought about the 99 Determination burning a hole in his chest. He looked at the reporter, and something inside him shifted. The humble academy boy receded, and the Midfield General stepped forward.
He looked directly into the camera lens.
"Contender?" Kwame repeated, his voice dropping an octave. "I don't want to be a contender."
The reporter blinked, caught off guard. "Sorry?"
"For two years, I was mediocre," Kwame said, his voice calm but laced with a terrifying certainty. "I was average. I was the guy making up the numbers. Now I'm getting everything I hoped for, but I'm not there yet. I promised myself that if I ever got a chance, a real chanceโI wouldn't waste it settling for 'good enough'."
The tunnel went quiet. Lee Bell stopped walking a few yards away, frowning.
"Jodi Jones is having an incredible season," Kwame continued. "19 assists is a lot. But I have 13 games left. And I'm not playing for second place. Second place is just the first loser."
He leaned into the microphone.
"By the end of this season, my name will be at the top of that list. I'm coming for the number one spot."
The reporter was stunned into silence. Social media managers in the truck scrambled to clip the video. This was gold.
"That's... that's a bold statement, Kwame," the reporter stammered, checking his notes. "You have 4 assists. You need 15 more in 13 games to catch him, assuming he stops playing. That's statistically... highly unlikely."
Kwame shrugged, a small, dangerous smile playing on his lips.
"Then I guess we'll see."
BZZT.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[LEGENDARY QUEST TRIGGERED: THE KING MAKER]
[CONDITION: USER HAS PUBLICLY DECLARED INTENT TO BECOME THE ASSIST LEADER.]
[OBJECTIVE: SURPASS JODI JONES (CURRENT: 19) BEFORE MATCHDAY 46.]
[CURRENT TALLY: 4]
[REWARD: HIDDEN (LEGENDARY)]
[FAILURE PENALTY: PERMANENT LOSS OF 'MIDFIELD GENERAL' TITLE.]
Kwame saw the penalty text flash red in his vision, but his smile didn't falter. He had burned the boats. There was no going back now.
"Thank you," Kwame said, and walked out of the frame.
THE OUTSIDE WORLD
Notts County Players' Lounge:
The TV was on in the background. David McGoldrick was icing his ankle, watching the post-match coverage. Sitting next to him was Macaulay Langstaff, the league's second top scorer, who had missed the Crewe game due to a suspension.
Langstaff choked on his water. "Did he just say what I think he said?"
McGoldrick stared at the screen, his expression unreadable.
"He's got 4 assists," Langstaff laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "He's a kid. He's played three games! Who does he think he is? De Bruyne?"
"Don't laugh," McGoldrick said quietly.
Langstaff looked at him. "Didzy, come on. He's talking about getting 15 assists in the run-in. It's mathematically impossible. Is this kid even serious?"
"I don't know," McGoldrick whispered, rubbing the bruise on his chest where Kwame had bounced him. "I thought he was just strong. But seeing that pass today? And now this? Maybe he's not like us. Perhaps we can't look at him through the same lens as us"
"Yeah whatever, it's not happening" Langstaff just shrugged it off, "I wonder how Jodi feels about this?" he chuckled jokingly.ย
Notts County Locker Room:
Jodi Jones was scrolling through his phone when a teammate nudged him. "Jodi, look at this. The Crewe kid is calling you out."
Jodi watched the clip. He watched the stoic expression on Kwame's face. He watched the arrogance.
Jodi laughed, tossing his phone onto the bench. "Cute. Everyone wants to be the King until they see the mountain. Let him chase. He'll run out of breath before he gets halfway."
But as he turned away, Jodi's smile faded. He checked the stats again. Two assists today? Against Doncaster away, and both assists came after he came on at halftime while they were losing??
Bradford City Training Ground:
Richie Smallwood was in the gym, watching the interview on his phone. He saw the look in Kwame's eyesโthe cold, dead certainty.
He shivered.
"He means it," Smallwood muttered to the empty room. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but looking at him... I think he might actually do it."
Maya Lunt's Bedroom: Maya sat on her bed, her phone in her hand. She replayed the clip. Then I guess we'll see. The arrogance. The swagger. It wasn't the shy boy she drank hot chocolate with who blushed when she complimented him. It was a different person entirely. She buried her face in her pillow. "Oh my god. What are you doing, Kwame? You've just put a target on your back the size of a billboard."
The Scholar's Lodge: "No way!" Cal Sterling was pacing the room. "He's lost it! He's actually lost the plot! You can't say that on Sky Sports!" But Cal wasn't laughing. He was terrified. Because he knew Kwame. And he knew that Kwame wouldn't say it if he didn't believe it.
The Team Bus.
Kwame walked onto the bus. The silence was deafening.
He walked down the aisle. Every eye was on him.
Rio Adebisi looked up from his phone. Courtney Baker-Richardson stopped chewing his gum. Mickey Demetriou just stared.
Kwame found his seat. He sat down, his heart pounding against his ribs. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only the weight of what he had just promised.
He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You serious?" Courtney asked, leaning over the seat. "You really think you can catch Jodi?"
Kwame looked up. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He could backtrack. He could say he was joking.
But the System had already issued the Quest.
"I'm serious," Kwame said, his voice trembling slightly but firming up. "I can find you, Court. I can find all of you. If you make the runs... I'll find you. Every time."
Courtney looked at him for a long second. Then he grinned. A wide, predatory grin.
"Well then," the striker said, slapping Kwame's shoulder. "I guess I better start running. You get me 15 assists, and I could be a contender for the Golden boot."
"We've got your back, General," Mickey called out from the back of the bus. "You write the checks; we'll help you cash 'em."
A cheer went up around the bus. They believed him. Or at least, they were willing to fight for him.
Kwame slumped back in his seat, exhaling a breath he felt he'd been holding for ten minutes.
Sunday. 09:00 AM. Unit 4B.
The morning sun hit Kwame's face. He woke up, reaching for his phone.
Notifications: 99+. Instagram Followers: +15k overnight. Trending: #KwameTheKing, #TheDeclaration, #CreweAlex.
He ignored social media and opened WhatsApp. A video call request from Afia.
He accepted.
Afia's face filled the screen. She was in her room in Accra, surrounded by half-packed suitcases.
"Kwame!" she screamed. "Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind?"
Kwame winced, turning the volume down. "Good morning to you too, Sister."
"Don't good morning me! I saw the interview! Uncle Raymond saw the interview! The pastor saw the interview!" Afia waved her hands. "You go on English television and tell the best player in the league you are coming for him? Where is your humility? Did I not raise you better?"
Kwame smiled. He missed her yelling. "I had to do it, Afia. I have to set the standard."
Afia sighed, her expression softening. "You looked... fierce. Like Pa when he was sure about something. But Kwame, you have put so much pressure on yourself."
"Pressure makes diamonds," Kwame said. "How is the visa?"
"The lawyer called yesterday," Afia said, beaming. "The club sent the sponsorship letter. I have my appointment at the embassy on Tuesday. If it goes well... I could be there in two weeks."
"Two weeks," Kwame breathed out. "Okay. That's good. I need you here. Things are getting... crazy."
"I can see that," Afia laughed. "Go and train, Mr. Number One. If you are going to talk big, you better play big."
She hung up.
Kwame put the phone down. The apartment was quiet again.
He picked up his tablet and opened the League Two Stats page.
๐ TOP ASSISTS LEADERBOARD
1. Jodi Jones (Notts County) - 19 Assists
2. Elliot Lee (Wrexham) - 12 Assists
3. Daniel Kemp (MK Dons) - 11 Assists
4. George Thomson (Harrogate Town) - 10 Assists
...
12. David McGoldrick (Notts County) - 8 Assists
15. Shilow Tracey (Crewe Alexandra) - 6 Assists
...
28. Kwame Aboagye (Crewe Alexandra) - 4 Assists
He stared at the table. He was on the second page, buried in a cluster of players with 4 assists.
Jodi Jones: 19Kwame Aboagye: 4
The gap was a chasm.
Kwame smiled, a nervous, electric twitch of his lips.
"Rank 28," he whispered to the empty room. "Buried in the crowd."
He tapped the screen on Jodi Jones's name.
"Perfect place for me to make a rise from."
He stood up and grabbed his gym bag. It was Sunday. A rest day.
But Kings don't rest.
CURRENT LEAGUE STANDINGS (TOP 10)
1. Stockport County - 71 pts (GD +40)
2. Notts County - 67 pts (GD +26)
3. Mansfield Town - 66 pts (GD +27)
---------------------------
4. Wrexham - 63 pts (GD +20)
5. MK Dons - 61 pts (GD +13)
6. Barrow - 58 pts (GD +11)
7. Harrogate Town - 54 pts (GD +3)
---------------------------
8. Gillingham- 53 pts (GD +4)
9. Crewe Alexandra - 51 pts (GD +13)
10. AFC Wimbledon - 50 pts (GD +6)
โฝ GOLDEN BOOT RACE
1. Isaac Olaofe (Stockport) - 25 Goals
2. Macaulay Langstaff (Notts County) - 24 Goals
3. Matt Smith (Salford City) - 21 Goals
4. David McGoldrick (Notts County) - 20 Goals
5. Paul Mullin (Wrexham) - 19 Goals
...
18. Courtney Baker-Richardson (Crewe) - 12 Goals