The final whistle had barely faded when a familiar chime rang inside Leo’s head.
[Ding!] [Achievement Unlocked: “Debut”] [Achievement Rating: A] [Reward: 2 Free Attribute Points] The system notification surfaced and vanished.
Leo noted it, face giving nothing away.
Mahrez was walking toward him, grinning.
Leo met him with a bright smile and a high five.
“Hey, man.
That strike was unreal.
Keeper never had a chance.” “Riyad.
Call me Riyad.” After the correction, Mahrez switched to his still-choppy English, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Leo, your passing is crazy.
Are all English youth players like you?” “Like me how?” “That good.” Leo laughed at Mahrez’s dead-serious expression, then spread his hands and cracked a joke.
“Plenty of guys can pass.
But you might not find another me anywhere on the planet.” Mahrez nodded, half getting it, half not.
On the touchline, the Leicester coaching staff were still riding the high of a hard-fought victory.
Nigel Pearson shook hands with Stoke manager Mark Hughes.
Hughes held the grip a beat longer and spoke.
“My side played the better football.
But the result…
that was unexpected.
Honestly, your number 23.
He’s something.” Pearson caught the mix of frustration and genuine admiration in the man’s voice.
He let a little swagger slip into his reply.
“He’s got promise.
Still needs polishing, though.” “Hope we meet again in the Premier League.” With that, Mark Hughes turned and disappeared into the tunnel.
Pearson’s gaze drifted back to the pitch, to the black-haired kid with his arm slung around Mahrez.
His expression softened.
Right now, he felt nothing but relief about the decision to send Leo on.
Not only had it flipped the scoreline and won the match.
It had uncovered a genuine talent.
Leo Hale’s sudden emergence had put a new card in his hand.
A trump card.
With Leo in the squad, Leicester’s push for the Premier League just got a whole lot stronger.
The question was whether the kid could deliver that kind of pass consistently.
Pearson turned to his assistant, Steve Walsh.
“Steve, I think we’ve just found the club a real gem.
Let’s hope that passing gift isn’t just a flash in the pan.” “Have Leo report to the first team tomorrow.” Steve Walsh smiled.
“Very wise decision.” Pearson strode toward Leo as the players made their way off the pitch.
He opened his arms and pulled the comeback architect into a full embrace.
“Son, brilliant work.” The manager’s warmth didn’t catch Leo off guard.
He just offered a modest smile and thanked him directly.
“Boss, thank you.
For giving me the chance.” Leo knew he already had Peak Kevin De Bruyne’s vision and passing.
He could hold his own in the first team on ability alone.
But staying on the right side of the manager mattered.
A lot.
The gaffer picked the eleven.
Even the biggest stars got frozen out or dumped into the reserves if they crossed him.
And Leo?
He was just a kid who’d finished his first-team debut five minutes ago.
Nowhere near big-time enough to throw his weight around.
Pearson liked the attitude.
He clapped Leo on the shoulder and served up a classic manager’s promise.
“Keep working hard.
I’ve got high hopes for you.” Leo played it shy, just smiled.
— When it came time to name Man of the Match, the choice was obvious.
A teenager who’d played barely fifteen minutes, delivered two assists, and dragged his team to a comeback victory.
Leo Hale.
So the moment he stepped off the pitch and headed for the tunnel, a cluster of reporters pulled him into the mixed zone for the post-match interview.
Camera in his face.
Microphone under his chin.
First time doing this as a professional.
Leo felt the nerves spike.
One wrong word and he’d look like an idiot in front of a national audience.
Blackmail material for life.
Then he remembered: he’d already survived dying and waking up ten years in the past.
What was a little interview?
The tension bled away.
A male reporter in a suit held a mic toward him.
“Congratulations, Leo Hale.
Is that how you say it?” “Yes.
Leo’s my given name.
Hale’s the family name.” “You’re mixed race, British and Chinese?” “That’s right.
My father met my mother while he was studying in London.
He stayed here to raise a family.” A few quick background questions, then the reporter got down to business.
“Let’s talk about what happened out there.
First-team debut.
How are you feeling?” “Amazing.
First, I want to thank the manager for trusting me enough to send me on in the most intense moment of the match.” “And then my teammates.
Football is a team sport.
Without them, none of this happens.” “Your passing was lethal.
Ten minutes on the pitch, two stunning assists.” “I’m just happy I could help the team win.” For someone facing the press for the first time, Leo’s answers were humble and steady.
Nothing like an eighteen-year-old fresh off his debut.
That short interview would end up in scouting files across the country, a reference point for his character.
“Thanks for your time.
Here’s your Man of the Match champagne.” The reporter handed him a red bottle with the FA Cup logo stamped across it.
Only then did Leo realize: the FA Cup Man of the Match award wasn’t a trophy.
It was a bottle of champagne.
He carried it back to the away dressing room.
The door had barely swung open before Vardy hooked an arm around his shoulders and announced to the room: “Look who’s back.
Our little hero, champagne in hand!” Right on cue, captain Wes Morgan led the squad in a round of applause.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Leo let the grin spread wide and thanked them.
“Appreciate it, everyone.
I just did what I was supposed to do.” He paused, then lifted the bottle.
“This champagne isn’t just mine.
It belongs to all of you.
Without the eighty minutes you fought through, there’s no comeback in the last ten.” The room went quiet for a beat.
Nobody had expected a kid just called up from the youth team, making his first senior appearance, to speak like that.
He was eighteen, right?
In those ten minutes on the pitch, Leo’s passing had already won them over completely.
That kind of killer final ball?
Nobody else in the squad could do it.
A teammate with that kind of passing ability was good news.
For the team, and for every individual in it.
Because in professional football, who doesn’t love playing alongside someone that good?