Chapter 829: The Youngest.
The kitchen smelled faintly of vanilla and warm butter.
Komi stood by the stove, still flipping pancakes with her hair tied loosely, a strand brushing her cheek every time she leaned forward.
Olivia was beside her, sleeves rolled up, helping to whisk another batch of batter.
The sight made the kitchen feel alive again as Izan, who was done with breakfast, leaned against the doorway, a quiet smile tugging at his lips.
For a moment, he simply watched, the two of them, side by side, working in an easy rhythm.
Komi would gesture to something, and Olivia would already be there.
These two, his mother and his girl, were part of the world he’d fought so hard to protect from chaos, the reason the medals mattered less than mornings like this.
He took a step in, just watching as Olivia passed Komi the plate of pancakes she’d helped make.
Olivia caught his eyes for a brief second, grinning with a warmth that sent a soft rush through his chest.
Komi turned at the same time, caught his gaze, and smiled too, but as they were caught in their reverie, the house door clicked open.
Footsteps came in quick succession, followed by laughter spilling into the living room.
Hori was first through the door, balancing two grocery bags in one hand and swinging another with unnecessary flair.
Miranda followed right behind, sunglasses perched atop her head despite being indoors, chuckling at something Hori had said.
They both looked up mid-laughter, and froze.
Hori’s eyes widened like she’d seen a ghost while Miranda blinked twice, her lips curling into a grin.
"You’re here," Miranda said, dropping her bag on the counter.
"Yeah," Izan replied, his voice light. "Just got in not long ago."
Hori, still holding her bags, shifted her weight and squinted at him mischievously.
"Sooo I forgot to ask back in Munich but... when’s that UCL bonus paycheck hitting?"
Izan chuckled, shaking his head. "You never change, do you?"
"Money is eternal," Hori said, pressing a dramatic hand to her chest.
"Unlike my patience, which expires the moment you ignore me."
Before she could finish, Izan leaned forward and flicked her forehead lightly.
"Hey!" Hori yelped, rubbing the spot. "Abuse! This is abuse of a national treasure!"
But before Izan could shoot back a retort, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He frowned, pulling it out.
The notification on the screen made him pause for a beat.
Incoming transaction: £6,700,000.00 — Arsenal Football Club.
For a second, he blinked, and then looked up slowly, a sly smile creeping across his face.
"It just came in," he said, showing her the screen.
Hori, who had been ready to unleash another sarcastic line, froze mid-breath.
Her eyes darted from the number on the phone to Izan’s face, back to the phone again.
"Oh..." she muttered weakly. "That’s... that’s real money."
"Yup," Izan said, pocketing the phone again.
Hori sighed dramatically, then, in a blink, she switched tactics.
"So... Izan," she started sweetly, walking over to him and resting an arm on his shoulder.
"Big brother, European champion, pillar of the Miura household, do you perhaps need... a massage? Maybe someone to run errands for you? Fold your clothes? Wash your boots? And then maybe you could pay me a couple million since this is pocket change for you."
Olivia snorted.
"Unbelievable. Two seconds ago, you called him stingy."
Komi tried to stifle her laugh but failed, covering her mouth with a towel.
Miranda leaned back against the counter, shaking her head.
"She’s adaptable. That’s how she survives."
Izan could only laugh, ruffling Hori’s hair until she swatted his hand away with an annoyed little squeal.
"Stop that! You’re messing it up!"
"Then stop trying to bribe me to bribe you," he said.
The kitchen erupted in soft laughter again as Izan and Hori continued bickering.
...
The laughter still lingered in the air when a buzz came again, but this time, it wasn’t a message or notification from anyone.
The sound was softer, more internal.
Familiar.
The faint echo of the voice that had been silent since the final whistle in Munich.
He looked down like he was staring at something on the ground, eyes narrowing slightly as the faint, translucent text shimmered to life above his palm.
[Processing of recent achievements complete.]
[Awaiting Viewing]
Izan blinked once, tilting his head slightly, his smile fading into something more thoughtful.
"Done processing?" he murmured under his breath. "Took you long enough."
The others were still chatting, but Izan pocketed the phone again, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"I’m gonna go rest for a bit," he said casually, glancing toward Komi.
Komi turned, towel still in hand, and nodded approvingly.
"You should. You’ve barely slept, and you look like you’ve carried the weight of London on your back," she said.
Then, her expression softened. "Rest well, baby."
Izan smiled faintly and nodded. "Will do."
As he turned toward the stairs, Komi’s voice followed him, gentle and teasing.
"Olivia," she said, leaning closer to the younger woman, "do you know what I used to make for him whenever he was sad?"
Olivia glanced up, curious. "What?"
"Fluffy white Bread, with Hot Chocolate", Komi said, with a nostalgic smile.
"Thick, sweet, the way he liked it. He’d always drink it in silence and pretend he wasn’t feeling better, but his eyes gave him away every single time."
Olivia chuckled softly, drying her hands. "Maybe I’ll make it later, then."
"You should," Komi said, giving her a small wink. "He won’t say it, but he still loves it."
Meanwhile, Izan reached the top of the stairs, the voices below fading into a comfortable hum.
He opened the door to his room, the familiar scent of clean sheets and faint cologne greeting him.
For the first time since Munich, he was truly alone.
He dropped his phone on the bedside table, the faint glow from the screen casting a soft halo of light.
He exhaled slowly, tugging off his shirt until only a white vest clung to his frame, the fabric thin and slightly wrinkled.
Then, he pulled on the loose bottoms of his joggers.
The exhaustion was beginning to settle in, but he needed to check what he got from all his strides before he could really let it get to him.
Crossing to the window, he drew the blinds halfway, letting a sliver of morning light spill across the room.
He reached for the remote, flicking on the air conditioner as a soft hum filled the space, a welcome chill brushing against his skin.
And then, he sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees.
For a moment, he just breathed.
Then, finally, he said it, quietly, almost like a command whispered to the universe.
"Open."
The system responded instantly as a faint ring of light formed in front of him, clean, silver-blue, shifting like liquid glass.
The air in front of Izan shimmered faintly before the notifications began to appear.
One, two, three, then a storm.
Lines of text cascaded down the holographic screen, flashing in gold and silver, each one carrying a faint chime that echoed softly through the room.
[Achievement Unlocked: Youngest Player to Score in a Champions League Final]
Title: "The Dawn of an Era"
The chime barely faded before another followed.
[Achievement Unlocked: Youngest Player to Score a Brace in a Champions League Final]
| Skill Enhancement: Pinpoint Accuracy(Elite Tier)
Then another.
[Achievement Unlocked: Youngest Player to Score a Hat-Trick in a Champions League Final]
Reward: Unique Title – "The Fourth Light" | Passive Boost: +5 to All Stats During latter stages of Finals]
And another.
[Achievement Unlocked: Youngest Player to Score 4 Goals in a UCL Final]
Reward: Signature Skill — "Temporal Strike" (Locked – Requires Activation Condition)
And still, they kept coming.
[Youngest Player to Start a UCL Final]
[Youngest Player to Register a Goal Contribution in Every UCL Knockout Round]
[First Player to Win a Treble Before Turning 18]
[Youngest Player in History to Be Crowned UEFA Footballer of the Year]
They flew past his eyes like missiles, each one glowing, spiralling out before fading into the air.
The list was endless, each notification burning brighter than the last until the room was filled with a faint, otherworldly radiance.
Izan sat quietly, eyes scanning the text, an almost dazed look settling across his face.
The sheer number of achievements felt surreal, like he was watching someone else’s story unfold.
Each line came with a small pulse in his chest, a quiet echo reminding him that every one of these moments had been real, lived, earned.
"I thought they didn’t award a footballer of the year award unless after compiling. Or did the system detect my dominance over the tournament and decide to give it to me?"
Finally, the storm of messages came to a pause, and at the very centre of the holographic screen, a single glowing icon began to pulse, bright, golden, alive.
[All achievements verified.]
[Main Reward Package Available – Claim Now?]
Izan stared at it for a moment, his reflection flickering faintly against the gold light.
He leaned forward slightly, raising his hand until his fingertips hovered just above the pulsing circle.
"Alright," he whispered, almost to himself. "Let’s see it."
Then, with a small, deliberate motion, he pressed the button as the screen exploded into light.