Learning How to Rest

After the first duel of the preliminary rounds, the team members all needed to rest and prepare for the second round of the semi-finals the following day.

Yes, you heard right, there is no ample rest time during the preliminary selection stage.

Team members may suffer severe injuries from the drugs during the initial selection, such as damage to the cardiopulmonary system and brain nerves. These injuries can be filled with White Lady's products, but to fully heal, they need to be combined with Universal Elixir and sufficient sleep.

During the preliminary rounds, the number of teams participating in the competition from each region increased year by year, reflecting the decline of the Madness Butterfly Sect.

By the sweltering summer of 2032, over 10,000 people from the popular tourist destination of Daji Town alone participated, forming more than 1,700 teams. The competition continued to use a double-elimination format, which meant that the Moon God Cup would last for 100 days.

Nearly one-fifth of the young people from all Forty-One District, 8 cities, 32 counties, and 108 townships participated in this competition.

The preliminary selection takes four days, followed by the second round, and then the double-elimination stage, which takes twelve days. Two-thirds of the more than 1,000 teams are eliminated, leaving 300 teams.

From the remaining 300 teams, a best-of-three format was used to determine the final 16 teams at the township level, and a month passed.

A month and a half later, the township and county-level representative teams were finally selected, and by then, the preliminary selection process had just ended.

Our contestants will rush to the regional capital to face off against strong opponents from various counties and townships. At least thirty-two and at most forty teams will participate in the regional representative competition. Including substitutes, a total of more than two hundred winners will taste the sweetness of victory and the bitterness of defeat in the Dadu.

The lucky one who survives will carry the hopes of the entire district as they march towards Adulis and challenge the elite heroes of the underworld.

If a team can fight their way to the Adulis podium and finally lift the Moon God Cup, starting from the training matches before the qualifiers, it means that these warriors have been in a state of combat readiness for nearly a third of the year.

In this brutal marathon, they did not slack off at all. Lady Luck may occasionally help the brave, but relying on luck is absolutely not enough to get through this hellish race.

Regardless of the process, the regional teams that made it to the finals are all athletes with strong will, courage, and determination; they are truly remarkable young talents.

These darlings of the era were truly world-class, which also indirectly illustrates that the railway world, characterized by its Ming De, was a dangerous region rich in martial spirit—a place where military training was conducted for a third of the year.

For Fiego Sebastián, the Moon God Cup was his ideal.

Seven years ago, a terrorist attack occurred at a hotel in Mogadishu, the capital of Somalia.

Fiego Sebasti's father died at the security post. The little boy was unaware of what had happened; such a momentous event as life and death was far too distant for a thirteen-year-old.

On this special day of June 14th, misfortune seemed to particularly favor the unfortunate. Little Fiego received two documents from the local police station in Mogadishu: an official death certificate and a letter of notification to his family.

My mother has leukemia and can't travel far, so she lives with my grandmother who has diabetes and Alzheimer's. The family of four relies entirely on my father's work for survival; we can't really talk about "living," because the word "living" itself is too luxurious and too expensive.

On the afternoon of the 14th, because her grandmother had a bad memory and without her father's help, she took out expired smoked meat from the freezer and cooked a meal that was fatal for the elderly. So, at around 4 a. m. the next morning, Fiego heard a few weak wails, and another loved one had left this world.

Witnessing death can leave a very painful psychological scar on a child.

He remembered that his father would always walk back and forth on the Lido Beach at the hotel, hands behind his back, dressed in neat and clean clothes. Whenever his father was around, the family always seemed to be filled with laughter.

Another seemingly insignificant forensic autopsy report was sent back, which, along with the death certificate, became a heavy burden on the children's hearts.

Just a week later, Fiego's mother also passed away.

He knelt by the bedside, this time watching his mother slowly close her eyes.

He kissed the back of his mother's fingers, pondering her good and bad points.

She wasn't a good mother. Because of the negative emotions brought on by her illness, she would always act recklessly at home, venting her anger on the people she loved most. It wasn't until her father passed away that she finally became quiet. Every day, she would hold little Sebastian, hug her son, and kiss his forehead.

Every day, this mother would look at her baby with fear and anxiety, always asking pointless questions such as, "Are you okay? Are you hungry? Are you cold? Will you also contract this incurable disease like me?"

Fiego wrote a diary entry.

In the scorching heat of June, the whole world seemed to turn gray.

"Dad went to work and didn't come home in the afternoon. Mom answered the phone, and then Dad died."

"After Grandma finished cooking dinner that night, everyone ate together. No one spoke, then Grandma started crying, and Mom started crying too. The next morning, Grandma died."

"My mother was very sad and told me to go to Aunt Claire to borrow money to pay the priest."

"Towards the end of the month, one morning I went out to buy meat sticks, and Aunt Clélie made sweet pancakes and beef cubes, and she didn't want us to pay her back."

"When I got home, my mother was dead."

At the end of his diary, young Fiego finally understood that he was all alone in the world.

He said goodbye to Aunt Claire, finished handling the funeral arrangements at home, and looked at himself in the mirror—

He felt he was sick and could no longer be happy.

So he wanted to find a medicine that could cure him, a remedy that could make his mind feel light again and relieve his thoughts from the torment of heavy pressure.

This little guy secretly hid in a banana food container, followed a truck across Somalia to Ethiopia, sneaked onto a Saudi Arabian oil tanker to work as a laborer, and traveled north. Six months later, in a small restaurant in Reykjavik, Iceland, he found two train tickets and, like every psionicist in the underworld, embarked on the inevitable path.

At the start of his journey, Fiego couldn't afford Galahad's tuition; unlike Hao Bro, he didn't have a waiter willing to lend him money. Just then, Mr. Tauson was recruiting for the business school, immediately recognized Fiego's talent.

At that time, Tauson was not a coach yet, but a player in the Moon God Cup, serving for Purple Crystal. He was the absolute core of Purple Crystal, serving as an attacker and captain.

Tauson took in young Fiego, brought him to Forty-One District, and sent him to school, practically acting as Fiego's second father.

Little Fiego lived in the Daji Town Welfare Sanatorium. Mr. Tauson told him that these houses were able to be built thanks to an anonymous person—at that time, our Mr. Jiang Xueming was beating up Kang Que Connor.

The welfare projects in Daji Town were gradually expanded to the surrounding areas after the suppression of the Forty-Eight District, and were carried out along the Eurasian Railway Network from Clearwater Bay area to Golden Township.

As the starting point, Forty-One District was naturally the first place to benefit from the policy.

From then on, Fiego had a new home.

-- Tauson took in many children, including little guys like Fiego who were under eighteen and had no waiters. He spent most of his prize money from matches and his salary from the club on the children.

When he was thirty-six, he suffered a serious injury. During a training match, a drug bullet pierced the speech area of his right skull, forcing the captain to step back from the game and recuperate for a full seventy-two days before he could speak normally again.

The captain's loss of speech was a fatal blow to the warriors of Purple Crystal. Tauson was heavily criticized by Purple Crystal's supporters that year because he was the soul of the team. Without him, Purple Crystal almost collapsed and ultimately stopped representing the county in the competition.

Fiego Sebasti still remembers that time--

--It was a hot summer day, and the Moon God Cup had only been going on for less than sixteen days. At the window of the sanatorium, Mr. Tauson was listening to the radio when he suddenly heard the news that Purple Crystal had been defeated and eliminated. Mr. Tauson began to cry, his face full of resentment.

He didn't understand why Ms. Tauson cried at that time, and why she cried so horribly. The other children were also affected by this emotion, and the adults led the children to cry together.

Years later, when Fiego first stepped onto the field and missed out on victory, he finally understood the thoughts of Tauson, who sat on his bed unable to speak: it seemed that bad things always happened in the summer.

What are you thinking about?

A call interrupted Fiego's thoughts. He was lying in the canteen of the Blue Eagle Stadium, where everyone was preparing for dinner.

The organizers will provide each athlete with at least two meals to reward these warriors who sweat it out on the field.

Coach Tauson tapped on the table, pointing to Fiego's injured hand.

"Can't hold the utensils? How about we get you a new pair of chopsticks? Want to try Chinese eating style? I've heard that these mysterious people from the East all practice martial arts from a young age, and even using chopsticks is part of their training."

"That's a rumor, teacher, don't talk nonsense." Fiego reached for the cutlery, only to find his right arm stiff and weak. After the surgery, it would take some time to recover.

Tauson: "Can't pick it up?"

Fiego stubbornly insisted, "I can."

Tauson: "If you can't lift it, you can't lift it. Don't lie. If you're injured, you're injured."

Fiego finally put down the iron spoon and started holding the cutlery with his left hand.

"Hey kid, look over there." Tauson had already finished his meal and was now very close to the dribbler and attacker, with one arm around Fiego and the other around Tamiya Eita Hideyasu.

The head coach glanced at the White-Clad Gang team not far away, leaned forward, nodded, and gestured to his two younger brothers to make sure they saw clearly.

"They're in the cafeteria too, should we go up and say hello?"

Tamiya Eita: "It's impolite to disturb others while they're eating, Coach."

"Teacher, I... I don't want to go. Can I not go?" Fiego felt a strange resistance when he saw Hao Bro.

That's someone he can only envy.

--A prodigy who emerged from Galahad, a student of the gunsmith.

In Fiego's childhood, the gunsmith was a fantastical idol.

Whenever he got carried away and wanted to go to other areas, to the hot war zones where the Madness Butterfly were active, and when he had just come of age and was already showing his ID card to all sorts of militia organizations, people would always tell Fiego —it's all over!

The nameless men led by the gunsmith won countless battles during Fiego's adolescence. This little brother, who was chasing after his Divine Dragon at his own expense, traveled long distances with the nameless men's army through four major war zones. Even after the Madness Butterfly became a protected animal, he still couldn't catch up with these elusive warriors.

Upon returning to Forty-One District, Fiego took up the mantle of Master Tauson, wanting to meet the gunsmith in a different way.

To become a contestant in the Moon God Cup, to lift that twelve-jeweled golden cup, and to become an extraordinary person under the watchful eyes of the gunsmith referee.

This was almost the most important ideal in Fiego's life, so he was so persistent in representing Purple Crystal this time. His desire to win almost overshadowed everything else, making him narrow-minded and mean, and full of aggression.

Perhaps if he wins just two games, the club will recognize him and give him a bonus, then he can go to Galahad for further studies and become a student of the gunsmith.

But when A Hao appeared in front of Fiego, he felt a deep sense of defeat, to the point of feeling ashamed of himself. It seemed that he had worked so hard for so long, but the end point he was pursuing was someone else's starting point.

Tauson: "What are you thinking about?"

Fiego: "I don't want to talk."

"That won't do," Coach Tauson said with a grin. "If you become mute, you can forget about the game. Mute people don't have that right."

Fiego's eyelids twitched. "I'm very dissatisfied."

Tauson: "Is it because of Howe?"

Fiego: "He seems to be better than me. Even if my hand wasn't injured, I probably still couldn't beat him."

"Don't worry," Tauson patted the young man's vest. "He's no match for you—kid, he's definitely no match for you."

Fiego: "Teacher Tauson, where do you get your confidence? Are you better than the gunsmith?"

"Of course I'm not as good as the gunsmith!" Tauson said with a grin, "But I'm thick-skinned."

"Haha," Fiego chuckled awkwardly, not taking the coach's words to heart.

"But I have to say, Fiego Sebastié is the most talented dribbler I've ever seen in my life, second only to Howe. Do you believe me?" Tauson deliberately slowed his speech as he explained, "If the White-Clad Gang can't find substitutes, their season will end at the capital. A complete team needs at least three substitutes. Warriors who can't learn to rest cannot pass the test of the Moon God Cup."

"This kid is definitely tougher than you; it seems like that's true."

"But he didn't know how to stop and rest, nor did he have the opportunity to rest."

"We might have a chance to meet again in about two weeks, and then [Fiego will beat A Hao to a pulp] -- you'd better prepare your lines before the execution."

"His line, '[Check mate, General],' really resonated with me; we can't afford to be outdone in terms of style."

Fiego seemed lost in thought, stealing glances at the gunsmith's location. He was somewhat dazed as he watched his idol, like a bewildered little fanboy.

Meanwhile, Tauson's head coach and the team's small forward were privately discussing various intelligence reports about the White-Clad Gang.

"Did you ask one of the girls on their team for their WeChat?"

"Um."

Is it almost there?

"No."

"What did you see?"

"Just as the coach thought, that athlete with the ID 'Miracle' really showed no signs of training. He couldn't run fast, was pale, and was weak. After strenuous exercise, his hands and feet started to swell in the rest room."

Tauson found it unbelievable. "So, Sharks Chili just randomly picked a passerby off the street to be their captain?"

Purple Crystal No. 3 nodded. "At least that's what I saw."

This left Mr. Tauson completely stumped.

This was something beyond his knowledge, and looking at Miracle Bro's expression, it was hard not to doubt whether this guy could even make it through the second day's matches.

Tamiya Eita moved closer to Coach Tauson and asked curiously.

"Is this miracle worth your attention?"

Tauson answered casually--

"--During the competition, our coaching team analyzed all the lip movements and commands expressed by the contestants as captured by the drone cameras."

"Aside from A Hao's outrageous and even somewhat laughable remarks, the most noteworthy thing is this miracle."

"All the actions of the Sentinels and the Breakers were guided by Miracle's orders—that is to say, without Miracle making the decisions, there would have been no scene of Howe's deadly twelve shots."

"This frail stranger is Sharks Chili's trump card, the brains of the entire team."

"Next time we meet, we'll target him."

Tauson only knew that A Hao couldn't learn to rest. After winning the game, the kid was so excited that he kept yelling and shouting for more than two hours without stopping.

But what this experienced coach didn't expect was that Fiego Sebasti also couldn't learn to rest.

After dinner, the young man sneaked back to the competition venue from the club around 8 p. m. There were still some empty sports rooms in the Blue Eagle Stadium's branch venue, which were used for the athletes to warm up.

Fiego looked at his right hand, not daring to place all his hopes on it. He needed to catch up on his left-hand coordination so he could adapt to left-handed shooting.

Everyone knows that if they are eliminated halfway through, it's all over, and they'll have plenty of time to rest.

Then a strange scene unfolded in the lounge—

--Fiego disassembled the training kit, preparing to first do two hundred sets of quick-firing aiming guns, and then two hundred sets of rapid-fire reloading.

I saw Miracle Bro tucked away in a corner, fiddling with a P99 plastic model in front of a full-length mirror, covered in sweat, as if he had been practicing for a very long time.

A Hao burst through the gate, carrying two bags of snacks—local specialties from Daji Town, including protein-rich beef jerky—intending to replenish his teammates' energy. His eyes met those of Fiego, and their gazes locked.

"You're here to train too?"

Fiego was at a loss and gave a blank reply.

"Ah."

A Hao immediately grinned, dropped the snacks, and turned around.

"Hey! What a coincidence! I'll go get you another bag!"