Chapter 19: The Butchers
New Year's Day. St Mary's. West Ham United.
The morning of the match, Leo woke to another newspaper sliding under his door. Back page. A photograph of him celebrating against Tottenham, arms outstretched, the Northam Stand a blur behind him. Headline: CARTER UNSTOPPABLE: WONDERKID MAKES MOCKERY OF BLUEPRINT.
He read it while eating toast. The journalist had written that "no defence in the league can handle him," that "Southampton's teenage sensation is already among the world's best," that "the only way to stop him is to kick him out of the game."
The system flickered.
[Media Attention: +51%. National Reputation: Superstar.]
[Narrative Detected: "Target on Your Back." Opponents Will Use Physical Intimidation.]
Leo set the paper down. Let them try.
He arrived at St Mary's early. The streets were quiet, New Year's hangovers keeping most fans in bed a little longer. But the diehards were already there, scarves and hats, breath fogging in the cold January air.
"Leo! Happy New Year, lad!"
"Give West Ham a battering! They're dirty bastards, they'll try to kick you!"
He signed a few autographs and disappeared into the players' entrance.
The changing room was warm. Focused. West Ham were a physical side. Glenn Roeder had them playing direct, aggressive football. Paolo Di Canio was the flair, but the rest were fighters. They'd seen the blueprint. They'd read the newspapers. And they'd come to St Mary's with a plan.
Leo pulled on his shirt. Number 27. The system populated the West Ham lineup.
West Ham United (4-4-2):
David James (GK) - 83
Sebastian Schemmel (RB) - 77
Tomas Repka (CB) - 82
Christian Dailly (CB) - 78
Nigel Winterburn (LB) - 76
Trevor Sinclair (RM) - 84
Michael Carrick (CM) - 81
Don Hutchison (CM) - 79
Laurent Courtois (LM) - 75
Paolo Di Canio (ST) - 88
Jermain Defoe (ST) - 83
Di Canio. Eighty-eight. The Italian magician, volatile, brilliant, capable of anything. Defoe, the young poacher, quick and deadly. But the real danger was Repka. The Czech defender had a reputation. Hard. Uncompromising. A man who collected yellow cards like stamps.
Southampton's lineup appeared.
Southampton (4-4-2):
Paul Jones (GK) - 71
Jason Dodd (RB) - 73
Claus Lundekvam (CB) - 74
Dean Richards (CB) - 76
Wayne Bridge (LB) - 76
Leo Carter (RM) - 98
Anders Svensson (CM) - 75
Matthew Oakley (CM) - 74
Chris Marsden (LM) - 72
James Beattie (ST) - 77
Kevin Davies (ST) - 74
Gray stood at the front. His face was serious.
"West Ham are physical. They'll try to kick you off the park. Repka will target you, Carter. He's been sent off three times already this season. He doesn't care. Don't react. Don't get drawn in. Just get up, walk away, and let your football do the talking."
Leo nodded.
[Stuart Gray: Tactical Warning Received. Expect Heavy Fouls. Keep Composure.]
The teams walked out. The tunnel was narrow, the walls red, the light blinding. Leo stepped onto the pitch and the home noise wrapped around him. The Northam Stand was bouncing despite the early kickoff.
"Happy New Year! Let's smash these Cockney bastards!"
"He's one of our own, he's one of our own, Leo Carter, he's one of our own!"
The announcer's voice boomed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, a Happy New Year to you all, and welcome to St Mary's Stadium for this Barclaycard Premiership fixture between Southampton and West Ham United!"
The whistle blew.
---
The first foul came in the third minute.
Leo received a pass from Oakley, turned, and started to run at Winterburn. Before he could accelerate, Repka arrived. Not a tackle. A forearm to the back of the head. Leo went sprawling.
The whistle blew. The referee ran over, hand already reaching for his pocket. Yellow card.
Repka didn't even argue. He just looked down at Leo, his face blank, and walked away.
The home crowd erupted.
"Dirty bastard! He knew exactly what he was doing!"
"Send him off! That should be red!"
Leo got up slowly, shaking his head. The system pulsed.
[Foul Suffered: 1. Injury Resistance (Level 3) Activated. Impact Reduced.]
[Charm Available: 5,980 Points. Use Charm on Referee? Increase Card Severity? Cost: 100 Points.]
He hesitated. Then confirmed.
The points deducted. The referee, already reaching for his pocket, paused. He looked at Repka, then at Leo on the ground. His expression hardened.
He pulled out the red card.
The stadium erupted.
"Off! Off! Off! Get him off the pitch!"
Repka stood frozen, arms outstretched, disbelieving. Winterburn screamed at the referee. Di Canio ran over, gesticulating wildly. But the decision stood.
[Charm Effect: Successful. Red Card Issued.]
[Charm Points: 5,880 Remaining.]
West Ham were down to ten men. In the fourth minute.
Leo got to his feet, dusted himself off, and jogged back into position. The West Ham players glared at him. Di Canio muttered something in Italian. Leo didn't understand the words, but he understood the tone.
This was just the beginning.
---
West Ham didn't back down. If anything, the red card made them angrier. They pressed harder, tackled harder, fouled harder.
In the eleventh minute, Leo received the ball on the right touchline. Winterburn came through the back of him. Late. Studs up. Leo went down hard.
The whistle blew. Yellow card.
The home crowd was furious.
"That's two! They're trying to break his legs!"
"Ref! Protect him! They're targeting him!"
Leo got up, his ankle throbbing. The system pulsed.
[Foul Suffered: 2. Injury Resistance Activated. Minor Knock - Recovery in Progress.]
[Match Rating: 6.2.]
He limped for a moment, then the pain faded. The talent was working.
In the sixteenth minute, Southampton won a free-kick on the right. Svensson stood over it. Leo positioned himself at the edge of the box.
Svensson whipped it in. The ball curled toward the near post. Beattie rose, but Dailly got there first, heading clear. The ball looped toward the edge of the box.
Leo was already moving.
[Reading the Game (Level 4) Activated. Ball Trajectory Predicted.]
[Long Shots (Level 4) Activated.]
He met it on the volley. A clean strike, right foot, flying through a crowd of bodies. James saw it late. The ball skidded off the wet grass, hit the inside of the post, and bounced into the net.
The stadium erupted.
Leo ran toward the corner flag, but before he could slide, Hutchison body-checked him. A deliberate shoulder, sending Leo crashing into the advertising boards.
The whistle blew. The referee ran over. Yellow card. Hutchison's second.
The home crowd was apoplectic.
"Send him off! He's already on a yellow!"
"That's assault! Get him off the pitch!"
The referee consulted with his assistant. Hutchison stood there, arms raised, protesting his innocence. But the decision was made.
Second yellow. Red card.
West Ham were down to nine men.
The stadium was a cauldron of noise and fury.
"Off! Off! Off! Cheating bastards!"
"Nine men! They've got nine men!"
Leo picked himself up from behind the advertising boards. His shoulder ached. His ribs were bruised. But he was still standing.
[Foul Suffered: 3. Injury Resistance Activated. Moderate Knock - Recovery in Progress.]
[Goal Scored. Match Rating: 6.2 -> 8.1.]
Southampton 1, West Ham United 0.
---
The game was a farce. Nine-man West Ham parked the bus, defending for their lives. Di Canio dropped into midfield, trying to create something from nothing. Defoe chased lost causes. But they were drowning.
In the twenty-eighth minute, Leo received the ball on the right. He ran at Winterburn, who was now terrified of getting another card. The left-back backed off, giving Leo space.
[Acceleration (Level 4) Activated.]
[Driving Run (Level 4) Activated.]
Leo cut inside, past Winterburn, past Carrick's desperate lunge. He was in the box.
Dailly came across. Desperate. He didn't tackle. He grabbed Leo's shirt and pulled him to the ground.
The whistle blew. Penalty.
The referee pointed to the spot. Dailly was already on a yellow from an earlier foul. The official reached into his pocket.
Second yellow. Red card.
West Ham were down to eight men.
The stadium was delirious.
"Eight men! They've got eight men!"
"This is unbelievable! Send the whole team off!"
Leo got to his feet, brushing off Dailly's attempts to apologise. His shirt was torn, his shoulder throbbing, his ribs aching. But he was still standing.
[Foul Suffered: 4. Injury Resistance Activated.]
[Penalty Won. Match Rating: 8.1 -> 8.6.]
Beattie grabbed the ball. He placed it on the spot. Leo didn't argue. He wasn't the designated penalty taker. Not yet.
Beattie stepped up and smashed it down the middle. James dove early. The ball flew into the net.
Southampton 2, West Ham United 0.
---
Half-time came. The players walked off to a standing ovation. The West Ham players trudged off, heads down, a manager screaming at the referee in the tunnel.
In the changing room, Gray was calm. "They've got eight men. Eight. Don't get complacent. Don't get drawn into their nonsense. Just play football, score more goals, and get the three points."
He looked at Leo. "You okay?"
Leo nodded. His body ached, but the Injury Resistance was working. He could feel the knocks fading.
"Good. Because they're going to keep kicking you. It's all they've got left."
---
The second half was a training exercise. Eight-man West Ham couldn't get out of their own half. Southampton passed the ball around them, probing, waiting for gaps.
In the fifty-fourth minute, Leo scored his second.
A one-two with Svensson. He burst into the box, received the return pass, and curled a shot into the far corner. James didn't even move.
[Goal Scored. Match Rating: 8.6 -> 9.4.]
Southampton 3, West Ham United 0.
In the sixty-eighth minute, he completed his hat-trick.
A corner from Svensson. Leo rose, Power Header activated, and thundered it past James.
[Goal Scored. Match Rating: 9.4 -> 9.8.]
Southampton 4, West Ham United 0.
The hat-trick. His first in the Premier League.
The stadium was in raptures. Hats rained down from the stands. The announcer was hoarse.
"Goal for Southampton! Scored by number twenty-seven, Leo Carter! A hat-trick for the wonderkid! Four-nil to Southampton!"
Leo ran to the corner flag, sliding on his knees, arms outstretched. His teammates mobbed him. Beattie was laughing. Bridge was screaming. Davies lifted him onto his shoulders.
"He's one of our own! He's one of our own! Leo Carter! He's one of our own!"
---
The final twenty minutes were a formality. West Ham had given up. They just wanted to get off the pitch without further humiliation.
In the eighty-first minute, Gray substituted Leo. A standing ovation from every corner of St Mary's. The West Ham fans, what was left of them, even clapped. Respect. Grudging, but real.
Leo walked off, clapping the crowd, his body aching but his heart full. Gray shook his hand.
"Hat-trick. Against a team that tried to kick you off the park. That's world-class, son. World-class."
Leo sat on the bench, an ice pack on his shoulder, watching the final minutes tick away.
The final whistle blew.
Southampton 4, West Ham United 0.
---
The West Ham players trudged off. Di Canio walked past the Southampton bench and stopped in front of Leo.
"You are special," he said, his Italian accent thick. "I have played with many great players. You have something they did not." He offered a hand. "Respect."
Leo shook it. "Thank you."
Di Canio nodded and walked away.
The system pinged.
[Match Complete. Southampton 4 - 0 West Ham United.]
[Barclaycard Premiership: 3 Points.]
[Match Rating: 9.9 (Man of the Match).]
[Charm Points Earned: 400. Total: 6,280.]
[Skill Tokens Earned: 2. Total Available: 6.]
Then the absorption.
[Talent Absorption Available. Defeated Team: West Ham United.]
[Select Talent from the following pool:]
> Paolo Di Canio (ST): [Volatile Genius (Level 5)] - World-class creativity and improvisation in attacking areas.
> Michael Carrick (CM): [Deep Playmaker (Level 4)] - Exceptional passing range from deep positions.
> Jermain Defoe (ST): [Quick Release (Level 4)] - Exceptional speed of shot release in the box.
> David James (GK): [Reflex Save (Level 4)] - Exceptional reaction saves from close range.
Leo stared at the list. Di Canio's Volatile Genius. Level 5. World-class creativity. Carrick's Deep Playmaker. Defoe's Quick Release. James's Reflex Save.
He selected Di Canio's Volatile Genius.
[Talent Absorbed: Volatile Genius (Level 5).]
[Effect: World-class creativity and improvisation. Unpredictable in the best way.]
[Active Talents: Penalty Box Predator (Lv4), Reading the Game (Lv4), Clinical Finisher (Lv5), Vision (Lv3), Endless Engine (Lv3), Power Header (Lv4), Driving Run (Lv4), Curled Finish (Lv5), Magic Touch (Lv5), Injury Resistance (Lv3), Volatile Genius (Lv5).]
Eleven talents. Four at Level 5. He was becoming a complete, creative force.
[User Rating: 98 -> 99 (OVR).]
Ninety-nine. One point from perfection. He was now, undeniably, one of the best players in the world. At seventeen.
---
The changing room was chaos. Music blasted. Players shouted. Gray stood in the corner, a rare smile on his face.
When Leo walked in, the room went quiet. Beattie started clapping. The others joined in.
Gray walked over. "Carter. Hat-trick. Against a team that tried to break your legs. I've been in this game forty years. I've never seen anything like you."
He shook Leo's hand.
"Thank you, gaffer."
Gray nodded. "Don't thank me. Just keep doing what you're doing. We've got Sunderland away next week. They'll try the same thing. Be ready."
Leo sat at his locker, the noise washing over him. His body ached, but the Injury Resistance was working. He'd be ready for Sunderland. He'd be ready for anyone.
The system flickered.
[Next Match: Premier League - Sunderland vs. Southampton. 12th January 2002.]
[Venue: Stadium of Light. Capacity: 49,000.]
Leo looked at the screen. Then he smiled.