[Football] Wait, Is Football What You Want?

The protagonist has amnesia.

But he still remembers that he needs to find something black, artificial, and capable of holding memories, as well as something white, artificial, and capable of holding memories.

A homeless man says, "Wow, you've got a soccer dream, too!"

So what I'm looking for is a soccer ball!

The protagonist suddenly understands.

But somehow, it still doesn't seem quite right.

He keeps wanting to hide in a locker-room locker, and feels like there's something inside one. He loves opening every drawer and cabinet, hates juicers, and has an unexplainable sense of unease around crows and owls. He likes using matches, typewriters, and knives, and hates submachine guns and wells.

Well, would you look at that, a war breaks out where the protagonist is!

But the protagonist feels pretty at ease. Maybe it's because he always felt life was missing a sense of terror and the uncanny. Now he gets to watch planes fly overhead every day, and there's the random chance of being shot at any moment. He immediately finds that familiar feeling again.

Oh, right. The protagonist is a goalkeeper because he doesn't like running.

He's also highly alert to danger and has nerves of steel.

One day, as the protagonist is walking down the road, he sees an old man about to be shot. Furious, he immediately starts playing a fruit-slicing game with a kitchen knife.

Don't ask how he played it. Anyway, he saved the man.

That day, the coach asks him, "Why are you late? I was about to arrange your funeral!"

The protagonist calmly replies, "Oh, I couldn't control my timing. I'll be more careful next time."

And so, thanks to his superhuman composure, the protagonist goes on to save civilians and teammates, escape revenge attacks by extremist fans, dodge a drug dealer's gunfire, and avoid robberies, arson...

In short, years later, he earns a new nickname online: The Ultimate Survivor.

Then one night, the protagonist wakes from a dream and cries out, "No! The ball is round!"

Theme: Stop fighting. It's pitiful.