Saturday. 3:12 PM. Gresty Road.
The game was ugly.
Sutton United hadn't come to play football; they had come to survive. They were set up in a rigid 5-4-1 formation, sitting so deep they were almost in the stands. Every time a Crewe player touched the ball, a yellow shirt was there to kick their ankles.
Kwame moved the ball side to side, probing. His Tactical Radar showed a sea of red zones—no passing lanes. Just a wall of bodies.
They're parking the bus, Kwame realized. They want a 0-0 draw.
Minute 12.
Shilow Tracey tried to skip past a defender on the right wing. The Sutton fullback didn't even look at the ball; he just stepped across and body-checked Shilow into the advertising hoardings.
FWEET!
Free kick. Wide right. 35 yards out.
It was a crossing position. Usually, this was Rio Adebisi's territory. The left-back stood over the ball, adjusting his socks.
But then, Kwame walked over.
He whispered something to Rio. Rio nodded, patted Kwame on the back, and jogged into the box.
A ripple of confusion went through the Mornflake Stadium.
THE OUTSIDE WORLDBBC Radio Stoke Commentary:"That's interesting. Rio Adebisi, who has one of the best left feet in the division, is walking away from the ball. It looks like Kwame Aboagye is taking charge. The teenager, the defensive midfielder, is standing over the set piece. That is... bold."
The Gresty Road End: "What's he doing?" a fan muttered, shielding his eyes from the sun. "He's a CDM! Get Rio back on it!" "He said he wants the assist record," his mate laughed nervously. "I guess he wasn't joking. But he better put this on a plate, or he's going to look stupid."
@SuttonUnitedTalk:The kid believes his own hype. Taking free kicks now? Please. Hit the first man, lad.
Kwame placed the ball. He rotated it until the valve was facing him.
He stepped back three paces. He didn't hear the murmurs. He didn't hear the doubt.
[TACTICAL RADAR: ACTIVE][TARGET ACQUIRED: MICKEY DEMETRIOU (BACK POST)]
He saw the line. It was a golden arc glowing against the grey sky.
Kwame ran up. He didn't blast it. He whipped it.
Thwack.
The sound of the connection was crisp. The ball flew into the box with vicious topspin. It looked like it was heading for the goalkeeper's hands, but then—just as the keeper stepped forward—it dipped.
It curved violently away from the gloves and dropped right into the path of the onrushing Mickey Demetriou.
Mickey didn't even have to break stride. He met it with a thumping header.
GOAL.Crewe Alexandra 1 - 0 Sutton United.
The stadium erupted—not just in joy, but in shock.
"What a ball!" the commentator screamed. "Beckham-esque! The whip on that was vicious! Kwame Aboagye steps up and delivers instantly!"
Kwame didn't celebrate wildly. He just pointed at Mickey, who ran over and lifted the teenager into the air.
[QUEST UPDATE: REGISTER 1 ASSIST (COMPLETE)][SEASON ASSISTS: 5]
THE OUTSIDE WORLD
The Pitch: Rio Adebisi jogged back to the halfway line, shaking his head with a wide grin. He grabbed Kwame by the shoulders. "Okay, okay! I get it! I'm never taking a free kick again, am I?" Kwame laughed. "You can take the short ones, Rio." "Cheeky," Rio messed up Kwame's buzz cut. "But that was a dime. Keep feeding us."
The Main Stand: Maya Lunt jumped to her feet, clapping furiously, her eyes shining. "He did it! He actually did it!" She grabbed her phone to text her dad, even though he was thirty yards away in the dugout. Maya: Told you he was sturdy.
The Scholar's Lodge: Cal Sterling sat back in his chair, arms folded. The other boys were screaming at the TV. "He practiced that," Cal told the room, his voice quiet but firm. "He stayed back for an hour on Monday just hitting that same spot. Over and over. That's not luck. That's reps." He watched Kwame high-five the captain on the screen. "He's not missing," Cal muttered.
Minute 44.
Sutton had to come out now. The 1-0 scoreline forced them to open up, just a fraction.
Kwame controlled a loose ball in the center circle. He held off a Sutton midfielder with his 73 Strength, turning away from pressure.
He looked up.
[OMNI-VISION (LEVEL 1): ACTIVE][360 DEGREE GRID: VISUALIZED]
Most players would see the safe pass to the fullback.
Kwame saw a glitch in the matrix.
Shilow Tracey was making a runoff the shoulder of the last defender. It was a blindside run. The defender hadn't seen him.
Kwame didn't hesitate. He hit a first-time, outside-of-the-boot pass along the ground.
It spun across the wet turf, slicing between the center-back and the wing-back. It was weighted to perfection, slowing down just as it entered Shilow's path.
Shilow collected it without breaking stride, rounded the keeper, and tapped it in.
GOAL.Crewe Alexandra 2 - 0 Sutton United.
THE OUTSIDE WORLD
Social Media:@EFLZone:Did you see that vision?! He didn't even look! Aboagye is playing a different sport right now. That's two assists in one half!
Maya Lunt (Text to Dad):He's actually going to do it, isn't he? He's going to catch Jones.
Kenny Lunt (Sideline): "He sees angles I don't even see from the dugout," Kenny muttered to Lee Bell. "His weight of pass is ridiculous. He's putting it exactly where the run will be, not where it is."
Halftime.
Crewe Alexandra 2 - 0 Sutton United.
Sutton United Dressing Room: The mood was funereal. Their manager kicked a water bottle across the room. "We had a game plan!" he shouted. "Stay compact! Frustrate them! And you let a seventeen-year-old kid tear you apart! He's running the show from the halfway line and nobody is getting near him! Put a body on him! If he gets the ball again, put him in the stands!"
Crewe Alexandra Dressing Room: The mood was calm, professional. "Excellent discipline," Lee Bell said, walking through the ranks. "We haven't given them a sniff." He stopped at Kwame. The teenager was drinking water, checking his stats on the sly. "Don't get complacent," Bell warned him, though his eyes were proud. "They're going to come out kicking. They're embarrassed. Protect yourself." "I'm ready, Boss," Kwame said.
THE PUBLIC EYE (HALFTIME ANALYSIS)
Sky Sports Studio:"We talked about his interview all week. We called him arrogant. We called him naive. Well... right now, Kwame Aboagye is making us all look silly. Two assists in 45 minutes. And that second one? That outside-of-the-boot pass? That is De Bruyne level. I don't say that lightly. The weight of pass was perfection."
The Main Stand: Maya was checking her phone when she heard giggling from the row behind her. Two girls, probably around 18, were looking at the match program, specifically at Kwame's bio picture. "Number 42," one whispered loudly. "He is fine. Look at those arms." "I know right?" the other giggled. "I'm going to DM him after the game. Reckon he has a girlfriend?" "He's a footballer, babe. He probably has three."
Maya felt a sharp, cold spike in her chest. She stiffened in her seat. Excuse me? she thought, gripping her phone tighter. He is not 'fine'. He is... well, he is, but that's not the point! And he definitely doesn't have three girlfriends! She turned slightly, shooting a glare over her shoulder. The girls didn't notice. Maya huffed, turning back to the pitch. She felt ridiculous. Why did she care? But she found herself typing a text to Kwame, then deleting it. Then typing it again. Focus on the game.
Minute 55 - 75.
The second half started, and the atmosphere shifted. Sutton United weren't playing for the ball anymore. They were playing the man.
Every time Kwame touched the ball, there was a yellow shirt slamming into his back.
Thud. An elbow in the ribs during a header. Crack. A late stud on his ankle after a pass. Shove. A shoulder barge long after the whistle.
Kwame picked himself up from the turf for the fifth time in ten minutes. His socks were torn. His shin pads were dented.
[SYSTEM ALERT: PHYSICAL TRAUMA ACCUMULATING]
Kwame got back to his feet slower this time.
His lungs burned. Every breath stabbed his ribs.
The pitch suddenly felt smaller.
He checked his shoulder before receiving the next pass — not to scan for space, but to brace for the hit.
The ball came to him from Rio.
Normally, he'd turn. Drive forward. Split lines.
Instead… he laid it straight back. Safe.
Too safe.
"Turn, Kwame!" Mickey barked.
He tried on the next touch.
A Sutton midfielder crashed into his back mid-control.
The ball bobbled away.
Turnover. The away end roared.
For the first time all game, his Tactical Radar flickered with red warnings.
Not because lanes weren't there.
Because he wasn't taking them.
His legs felt half a second slower.
His mind half a second late. Hesitation.
Another pass came. Another shove. Another stumble.
The rhythm was gone.
They're in my head, he realized. They aren't trying to win the ball.
They're trying to make me disappear.
[SYSTEM STATUS: CONFIDENCE DROP DETECTED]
From the stands, Maya could see it immediately.
"He's not playing," she muttered. "He's scared to receive"
[CONDITION: BRUISED RIBS (-5% STAMINA)][MENTAL STATE: PRESSURED]
"Get up, superstar," the Sutton midfielder spat, standing over him. "Not so easy when you can't breathe, is it?"
Kwame didn't reply, but he felt small. The constant battering was wearing him down. He checked his runs, hesitant to receive the ball because he knew the hit was coming.
THE OUTSIDE WORLD
BBC Radio Stoke:"This is disgraceful from Sutton. They've abandoned football. They're just taking turns to kick the kid. The referee needs to get a grip before Aboagye gets seriously hurt. That's four bookings now, all for fouls on the same player."
The Main Stand: Maya Lunt gripped the railing in front of her so hard her knuckles turned white. She watched Kwame limp back into position, rubbing his calf. "They're trying to break his legs," she whispered, her voice trembling with anger and worry. "He can barely run. Dad, take him off! Please, just take him off!"
Minute 77.
Kwame dropped deep to collect a pass from Mickey. He took a touch to turn.
From his blind side, the Sutton defensive midfielder launched himself. Two feet off the ground. Scissor motion. It wasn't a tackle; it was an assault.
CRUNCH.
Kwame went down screaming, clutching his shin.
Before he even hit the ground, Mickey Demetriou and Courtney Baker-Richardson were there.
Mickey grabbed the Sutton player by the collar and shoved him halfway across the pitch. "You touch him again, I'll end you!" Mickey roared, his face purple with rage.
Courtney was right behind him, getting in the face of the Sutton captain. "He's seventeen! You cowards!"
The referee blew his whistle frantically, running into the melee. He reached into his pocket.
RED CARD.
The Sutton player walked off, jeered by the entire stadium.
Kwame sat up, checking his leg. It hurt, but the shin pad had saved him. He looked up to see Mickey offering a hand.
"You alright, son?" the captain asked, his eyes still burning with protective anger.
"I'm good, Skip," Kwame said, taking the hand.
"Good. Now punish them."
Minute 78.
The free kick was taken quickly. The red card had shattered Sutton's discipline. They were disorganized, arguing with the ref, distracted.
They wanted him invisible. Fine. Now they'd see everything.
Kwame demanded the ball immediately. The fear was gone, replaced by cold anger.
He drove into the space the sent-off player had vacated. He reached the edge of the box. A defender rushed out to close him down.
Kwame faked a shot. The defender bit.
Kwame slid a reverse pass to the byline for Rio Adebisi, who had overlapped.
Rio crossed. The Sutton keeper punched it away nervously.
CORNER KICK.
"This is it," Kwame whispered.
He walked to the corner flag. The crowd sensed it. The injustice of the fouls had fired them up. The chant was louder than ever.
"ONE OF OUR OWN! HE'S ONE OF OUR OWN!"
Kwame placed the ball. He looked at the box. Sutton were a man down and panicking.
Kwame raised two fingers.
Elliott Nevitt, the striker, saw the signal. He made a darting run to the near post, dragging a defender with him.
Kwame whipped it. Low. Hard. Fast. A ball fueled by 30 minutes of bruises.
It skidded off the wet grass just before the six-yard box. Nevitt threw himself at it, getting a glancing header that steered it past the keeper.
GOAL.Crewe Alexandra 3 - 0 Sutton United.
The stadium exploded. It wasn't just a goal; it was justice.
Kwame stood by the corner flag, arms spread wide, as Nevitt and Mickey sprinted over to mob him.
[QUEST UPDATE: REGISTER ASSIST (3/3)][HAT-TRICK OF ASSISTS ACHIEVED]
THE OUTSIDE WORLD (VINDICATION)
@TheRealEFL:Sutton tried to kick him off the park. They tried to bully him. They got a red card, and he responded with a hat-trick of assists. Kwame Aboagye isn't just talented; he's tough as nails. #CreweAlex
Full Time.
The referee blew the whistle.
Kwame stood in the center circle, hands on his hips. He looked up at the scoreboard.
Crewe 3 - 0 Sutton.(Scorers: Demetriou, Tracey, Nevitt)(Assists: Aboagye x3)
He walked toward the tunnel. The applause was deafening. It wasn't the frantic hysteria of the Notts County equalizer; it was the steady, rhythmic applause of respect. They knew they were watching something special.
[QUEST COMPLETE: WALK THE TALK]
[OBJECTIVE 1: WIN - COMPLETE]
[OBJECTIVE 2: RATING 7.5+ - COMPLETE (9.2)]
[OBJECTIVE 3: ASSIST - COMPLETE (3)]
[REWARD: +150 XP][BONUS: REPUTATION MASSIVELY INCREASED]
At the mouth of the tunnel, the kit man handed everyone their bags. Kwame unzipped his and grabbed his phone.
[LEAGUE TWO ASSIST LEADERBOARD]
Jodi Jones (Notts County) - 19
Elliot Lee (Wrexham) - 12
...
7. Kwame Aboagye (Crewe) - 7 (+3)
He had jumped 21 places in 90 minutes.
Social Media:
@JodiJones11:Hattrick of assists? Fair play. The chase is on. See you at the top. 🏃💨
Kwame smiled. He locked his phone.
The King was watching.
[XP BALANCE: 630 / 5600]