This was clearly a soccer field, yet the players were astonishingly running while holding the ball in their hands.
Even more ridiculous was the fact that every single one of them was wearing armor.
Body checks had long since surpassed any sane level.
Tap-tap-tap-tap!
“Graaah! Push him!”
“Take that bastard down!”
“Over pass! Over pass!”
Players threw the ball, caught it, and sprinted. Extreme collisions followed immediately.
Kwaaaaang! Peeeeep!
“Fourth down! Turnover!”
A referee in striped clothes blew his whistle and stepped in.
Watching the match, I let out a hollow laugh.
Wait, why has it turned into American football?
I had definitely explained soccer rules and tactics before leaving. When I was still here, it seemed to be going normally, so why had it changed like this?
I turned around with a puzzled expression. Shugl and Feltron puffed out their chests proudly.
—How is it? Exciting, right?
—Boss! This is the only way to draw a crowd. If we did it the old way, it would be even more boring than a sword tournament.
—Yeah. What’s the fun in a bunch of gentlemen just kicking the ball around?
Their words left me speechless at first, but I had to admit they had a point.
Ah, right. This world is pretty intense, isn’t it?
Think about it. Grotesque monsters roamed the plains, and sword tournaments were filled with blood and flying flesh. To people used to that kind of spectacle, ordinary ball-kicking would feel unbearably dull. A match like the one in front of me—full of bone-crunching collisions and punches—was far more entertaining.
“It’s not bad, but it has zero structure.”
—Why? We think it’s perfect.
“Look over there. That’s just a brawl.”
—That much should be allowed…
“If the strongest guy always wins, how is it any different from a sword tournament?”
—Eh?
Shugl’s eyes widened as if he had just realized something.
They had tried to make it as stimulating as possible, but if that was the goal, people might as well go to an underground fighting arena. There would be no reason to come here.
“Anyway, you two find this way more fun than regular soccer, right?”
—Definitely. We showed it to the people in Midias and the reaction was amazing.
“Good. In that case, let’s just turn it into proper American football.”
Shugl and Feltron’s version already resembled rugby or American football in many ways. The only real issue was that it allowed full-contact fighting, which they called “fight ball.”
If we fixed just that part and applied proper rules, it would become an excellent sport.
What is it?
“Here, watch. This is how it’s done.”
I explained everything from the shape of the ball to the detailed rules. The two half-demons listened with sparkling eyes. Then they threw their hands up and cheered.
—This is it! Kicking the ball around with your feet was way too hard.
—Yeah. The players had trouble scoring too.
I finally understood why soccer had morphed into this.
Handling the ball with your feet wasn’t easy. On top of that, they had only trained for a few weeks. No matter how outstanding their physical abilities were, they couldn’t fully enjoy the game. There weren’t even any reference matches to watch.
But carrying the ball and running let them bypass dribbling restrictions entirely.
Plus, it was probably familiar since they already did something similar.
Mercenaries often served as guards for archers. Crossbows were extremely effective against monsters, so they were used to forming defensive lines. This situation was exactly like that—a human wall meant to stop the ball carrier.
“If we tidy it up a little, we can hold matches much sooner.”
I returned to my office right away and created a new rulebook and playbook. Of course, I also had to redesign the protective gear, uniforms, and field layout. At least the soccer cleats could stay the same.
Roughly one month later, the day of the first football match finally arrived.
In truth, this match was only a demonstration for the residents of Midias.
Yet the crowd that gathered at the stadium was enormous. Word had spread all the way to Perias, and people poured in like a cloud.
“It’s practically overflowing. Is it really this popular?”
—Of course. The practice sessions had the same atmosphere.
“Oh?”
The response was extremely promising.
When this many people gathered, there was only one thing to do.
Business is a must.
From uniforms and various football merchandise to food stalls and advertisements—the opportunities to create revenue and jobs were endless.
I immediately called in Dapan Group staff and began pushing forward all sorts of business ventures.
The football match became an absolute sensation in Perias.
“Malcolm, bro! His Grace Duke Carius has created another amazing spectacle.”
“Chaz, it’s just people running around with a ball. How fun could it be? We’d be better off betting at the underground fighting arena.”
“They take bets here too. The amounts are small, though.”
“How much?”
“One silon.”
“Pfft, that’s just kids’ play.”
Chaz, a teenager with sparkling eyes, and Malcolm, a man with a bored expression. Their similar features and the height difference suggested they were brothers.
Malcolm remained consistently negative. He grumbled that a silly ball game couldn’t possibly be entertaining, yet he let himself be dragged along by his cute younger brother. Chaz still wasn’t old enough to come to a place like this alone.
Soon a man in striped clothes raised a large funnel to his mouth and shouted.
“The demonstration match for the Midias Football League, sponsored by the Dapan Group, is about to begin! First-time visitors, please read the promotional booklet.”
The two brothers immediately flipped open the booklet. Chaz was fidgeting with excitement, urging his brother to read faster, but Malcolm focused on something else.
“They’re giving these away for free, yet the quality is this good?”
“Bro, hurry up.”
“Fine, fine.”
The booklet briefly explained the rules, format, and team introductions. The content itself was surprisingly simple—easy enough for a ten-year-old like Chaz to understand. There weren’t many words; most of it was pictures.
Yet Malcolm’s expression grew more and more uncertain. This was only a demonstration match, so it was free, but future games would surely charge admission. He worried that Chaz might get too obsessed with this strange new sport.
Once they finished reading, the match finally began.
Tap-tap-tap-tap! Kwaaang!
“Run! Run!”
“Stop him!”
The players charged across the field like wild bulls. It was a battle to advance ten meters within four downs—a truly thrilling spectacle.
Players sprinted at insane speeds. Relentless collisions and deceptive plays followed one after another.
“Yes! Touchdown!”
Malcolm clenched both fists, his face flushed with excitement. He had been completely captivated by the football match without realizing it.
When he looked around, the stadium was packed with cheering men. Soon a chant echoed through the stands.
“Shu~gl Shu-gl Shu-gl Shu-gl! Shu~gl Shu-gl Shu-gl Shu-gl!”
He had no idea what the words meant, but Malcolm and Chaz quickly joined in. The song was ridiculously addictive.
Then the middle-aged man beside them suddenly spoke.
“You two fans of the Shugl team too?”
“Huh? What’s that?”
“Look over there. The black flying-squirrel mascot is the Shugl team, and the white bat is the Feltron team. We’re cheering for Shugl.”
“Ah… Us too.”
“Ha! You young ones catch on quick. Here, take this.”
“Huh? Okay.”
Malcolm accepted a towel with a dazed expression. When he unfolded it, a black flying-squirrel mascot was printed on it.
The Shugl team, having scored a touchdown, successfully converted the extra-point kick and gained one more point.
“Uwaaaaaah!”
“Crush those pale bat bastards!”
The stadium had turned into a cauldron of frenzy.
Malcolm was shouting the chant more passionately than anyone. The man next to him suddenly started calling out a player’s name.
“Trevor! Trevor! Trevor! Trevor!”
“Who’s that?”
“Our team’s best running back. Look at him go. He runs like a monster!”
Right on cue, one player began sprinting like mad. He weaved through defenders with perfect fakes and scored a second touchdown in an instant. It was an incredible play.
Malcolm felt a shiver run through his entire body. The moment he saw it, a hot flame ignited in his chest.
“Wow! That was amazing.”
“They say he used to be a lumberjack in Midias. Before that, he was in the Western Defense Force.”
“Seriously? A former soldier?”
“That’s why he’s so popular. You should try out too.”
“Me?”
“You’re tall. Put on some muscle and you’d be set. Of course, you’d still need at least A-rank mercenary qualifications.”
“Uh…”
Malcolm was at a loss for words. He couldn’t understand what the man was talking about. Why would becoming a football player require A-rank mercenary status?
The man smiled faintly and continued.
“These days, the most popular job among mercenaries is football player. It’s far safer, and the pay is insane. The minimum is fifty goldens, I think?”
“Oh! Really?”
“But most of them have learned a bit of aura. That’s why you need to become an A-rank mercenary first.”
“I see.”
A strange spark of ambition flickered in Malcolm’s eyes as he nodded.
Originally, his dream had been to become a mercenary and roam the world. He wanted to be a free man who earned real money instead of a stifled wage worker in Perias. Becoming a farmer like his parents was the last thing he wanted.
He had admired mercenaries, but his thoughts were slowly shifting.
“Bro!”
“What is it, Chaz?”
“Football players are so cool. You should try it. You’d be great at it.”
“Me?”
“You were the fastest runner in our neighborhood.”
“Pfft! That’s true.”
Memories of playing tag with Chaz as a child suddenly surfaced. It had only been a few years ago, but back then Malcolm had been unbeatable. Once he decided to run, no one could catch him.
He recalled the movements of the running back named Trevor—insane speed, perfect direction changes, flawless feints. The plays were on a completely different level from anything Malcolm could do.
Still, he didn’t want to crush Chaz’s expectations.
“Being an athlete is safer than being a mercenary, I guess.”
His parents would probably object less too.
The real problem was how to learn aura. It required talent, and obtaining a proper cultivation method was extremely difficult. Buying one on the market would cost at least five thousand goldens.
“It’ll be tough, huh?”
Even if his parents emptied their entire savings, it wouldn’t be enough. They couldn’t even afford the cover of an aura manual.
Malcolm’s heart grew heavier and heavier.
Then his eyes landed on a promotional sign behind the stands.
Player Recruitment! Pass the tryouts and we will teach you an aura cultivation method.
Malcolm’s heart, which had briefly stopped, began pounding again.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!