Beyond the Gridiron: Cosmic Sports System

29: Total Rout and the Peacock’s Final Surrender

The stadium’s mocking laughter hadn’t even fully died down when Santo Antonio’s offense stepped onto the field. Buoyed by Leo’s consecutive game-changing interceptions, every player moved with unshakable confidence, their previously tense aura completely replaced by swagger and momentum. The gap between the two teams, once thought to be an insurmountable elite-underdog divide, had vanished entirely in the wake of Ethan’s repeated blunders.

Tiago’s passing rhythm hit perfect stride instantly. Freed from the pressure of defending the elite team’s fierce offense, he read the opposing defense’s gaps with pinpoint accuracy, threading sharp, precise short passes to tear apart São Paulo Royal’s frustrated formation. Carlos and the offensive line dominated the line of scrimmage, bulldozing through the elite defenders like they were made of paper, opening up massive running lanes for their teammates.

São Paulo Royal’s players were visibly unraveling. Their disciplined elite teamwork crumbled into messy, individual scrambling. The once-coordinated defensive formations fell apart, with players second-guessing each other, hesitating on assignments, and bumping into one another mid-play. Leo’s new Vanity Shutdown passive was working overtime—not just on Ethan, but on the entire overconfident team, their inflated egos crumbling after losing their star’s dominance.

The live stream chat had long abandoned serious match analysis, fully dedicating itself to roasting the fallen elite squad. Comments scrolled nonstop, mocking the team’s pitiful collapse and Ethan’s continuous on-field disasters. What was supposed to be a dominant elite showcase had turned into the most lopsided underdog upset of the entire regional tournament.

Trailing by two touchdowns with the clock winding down, São Paulo Royal’s coach had no remaining options. He had no choice but to force Ethan back into the core offensive plays, desperate to squeeze out any last-minute comeback spark. It was a final, desperate gamble—one that only piled more humiliation on his star player.

Ethan looked utterly hollow as he lined up for the next play. The fiery rage from earlier had faded into numb, defeated frustration. His perfectly styled game look was completely ruined: hair messy and matted with sweat, headband slipping down his forehead, uniform stained and crumpled beyond repair. He no longer dared to pose, preen, or argue with his teammates. Every time he glanced at Leo, his eyes darted away instantly, too ashamed to meet his gaze.

The play snapped, and Ethan ran his route on autopilot. No fancy fakes, no exaggerated movements, no attempts to show off. He simply ran a plain, straight, deep route, stripped of all his vanity and flair. Yet even without his dramatic antics, the Vanity Shutdown error effect lingered. His footsteps were shaky, his timing off, his focus scattered.

The quarterback launched a rushed deep pass, his last-ditch effort to save the game. The ball sailed toward the end zone, but Ethan stumbled mid-sprint, his own nervous clumsiness ruining his route. He reached out belatedly, fingers brushing the leather football but failing to secure the catch. The ball bounced off his fingertips and fell harmlessly to the turf.

Another brutal, unforced error.

The entire São Paulo Royal sideline fell dead silent. No one yelled, no one complained—they were simply exhausted, embarrassed, and completely resigned to their defeat. Ethan froze in place, staring blankly at the fallen ball, shoulders slumping in complete surrender. He had no excuses left, no luck to blame, no flukes to argue. He had been thoroughly, completely outplayed and humiliated by the so-called “amateur underdog” he’d mocked pre-game.

Santo Antonio’s bench erupted in quiet, triumphant cheers. No excessive celebration, just pure, relieved joy. The small public school team had officially crushed the arrogant elite powerhouse.

The final whistle blew seconds later, sealing the game’s result. Santo Antonio won by a dominant three-touchdown margin. Ironically, it was the exact score Ethan had arrogantly promised to beat them by pre-game, turning his own boastful words into the ultimate mockery of his defeat.

As the teams lined up for the post-game handshake, Ethan avoided Leo’s eyes entirely. When their hands briefly touched, his grip was loose and limp, no trace of his earlier cockiness left. He didn’t utter a single word, too humiliated to even offer a basic sporty acknowledgment.

Leo’s system chimed with a final wave of bonus rewards, registering the full victory and complete suppression of the arrogant opponent. Permanent attribute boosts washed over him, sharpening his speed, awareness, and defensive instincts.

[Match Victory Bonus Granted!]

[Arrogant Opponent Complete Suppression Bonus Maxed!]

[Vanity Shutdown Passive Effect Permanently Strengthened!]

Leo glanced at the dejected Ethan, a faint, calm smile tugging at his lips. Arrogance and vanity never won matches. Only steady strength and unyielding focus did. This victory was not just an upset win—it was a perfect lesson for every overconfident elite in the regional tournament.

Santo Antonio’s underdog miracle continued, and their journey through the Group of Death was far from finished.