Dynasty Awakening: Building My Own Football Empire

Chapter 302 302: Broken Toyota

The problem with having an assistant like Arthur Milton wasn't his addiction to jelly babies or his tendency to faint when VAR checked a goal. The problem was that Arthur Milton had the hearing of a bat and the deductive reasoning of a panicked squirrel.It was Wednesday afternoon. The War Room was quiet. The rain was lashing against the windows of the Barnsley training complex, turning the pristine pitches into a muddy soup.

Michael Sterling sat in his leather chair, feet up on the desk. He was on the phone with his mother.

"I know, Mum," Michael sighed, rubbing his temples. "But it's costing me a fortune. It's making weird noises. I think the engine is gone."

He was talking about his car. An old, battered Toyota Yaris he had affectionately named 'The Beast' during his League One days. Despite being a multi-millionaire manager now, he hadn't had the heart to scrap it.

"Yeah," Michael continued, staring out at the grey sky. "I think it's time to let go. I'm going to retire it. Send it to the scrap heap. It's had a good run, but I can't keep fixing it. It's too stressful."

Under the desk, Arthur Milton was currently fixing a loose internet cable. He froze.

Retire it?

Scrap heap?

Too stressful?

Arthur's eyes went wide in the darkness under the mahogany. His brain, fuelled by sugar and anxiety, connected the dots.

Michael is tired.

Michael is stressed.

Michael is retiring.

"Okay, Mum," Michael said. "I'll do it after the Dortmund game. Yeah. Clean break. Goodbye."

He hung up.

Arthur didn't fix the cable. He crawled out from under the desk backwards, like a crab escaping a boiling pot. He didn't say a word. He just stood up, dusted off his purple suit, and walked out of the office with the face of a man who had just seen the apocalypse.

The Locker Room Crisis

Ten minutes later, the locker room was a scene of devastation.

It wasn't physical devastation. It was emotional carnage.

The players were getting ready for the afternoon session. Kaito Tanaka was taping his nose. Diego Nunez was trying to open a coconut with his elbow. Jax was filming a 'Get Ready With Me'.

Then Arthur walked in.

"He's leaving," Arthur whispered.

The room went silent. Diego stopped elbowing the coconut.

"What?" Enzo Moretti asked, putting down his espresso. "Who is leaving? The Queen?"

"The Boss," Arthur's voice cracked. "I heard him. He's retiring. After the Dortmund game."

"Retiring?" Jax dropped his phone. "But... he is young! He has vibes! Why?!"

"Stress," Arthur whimpered, tears forming in his eyes. "He said he's sending himself to the scrap heap. He said he's had a good run. He said it's too stressful managing us."

The silence stretched. It was heavy. It was suffocating.

Kaito Tanaka slowly peeled the tape off his nose. His eyes were wide, wet, and horrified.

"Is it... is it because I missed the header in training?" Kaito whispered.

"No," Diego growled. He stood up. The coconut rolled across the floor, forgotten. "It is because of the media. They attack him. I will eat the media."

"It's because of me," Arthur sobbed. "I ate all the red jelly babies. I broke him."

Lars Jensen, the giant Dane, stood up. He looked like a Viking who had just been told Valhalla was closed for renovations.

"We do not let him leave," Lars rumbled. "We lock the doors. We keep him here."

"Kidnapping is illegal, Lars," Enzo pointed out calmly, though his hand was shaking as he held his cup. "But... emotional blackmail is not."

Jax picked up his phone. He wasn't filming anymore. He looked serious.

"We have to stop him," Jax said. "We have to show him we are not stress. We are family. No cap."

"Family," Diego repeated. He grabbed a roll of duct tape. "Come. We go to the office. We fix this."

The Intervention

Michael was just contemplating ordering a pizza when his office door exploded inward.

He jumped, spilling coffee on his tie.

"Jesus!" Michael shouted. "Knock, for fuck's sake!"

He didn't get to finish the sentence.

The room filled with bodies. Big, sweaty, emotional bodies.

Kaito Tanaka sprinted in first. He slid on his knees across the carpet (ruining it) and grabbed Michael's leg.

"BOSS! DON'T GO!" Kaito wailed. "I WILL RUN FASTER! I WILL GROW NEW HAMSTRINGS! PLEASE!"

"What the..." Michael tried to shake him off.

Then Diego Nunez marched in. He slammed the duct tape onto the desk.

"You want to leave?" Diego roared, his eyes wild. "You want to go to the scrap heap? NO! I tape you to the chair! You stay forever!"

"Diego, put the tape down," Michael said, trying to keep his voice calm. "Why are you all shouting?"

Jax jumped onto the sofa. "Boss! Think of the vibes! The Dynasty! You can't retire! You are the Main Character!"

Lars Jensen stood in front of the door, crossing his massive arms. "The door is blocked. No exit. Only football."

Arthur Milton was standing in the corner, weeping into a towel.

Michael looked at them. His squad. His Misfits. They looked like they were attending a funeral for a puppy.

"Okay," Michael raised his hands. "Everyone shut up!"

The wailing stopped. Kaito sniffed loudly, still clutching Michael's ankle.

"Who told you I was retiring?" Michael asked.

Everyone pointed at Arthur.

Arthur squeaked. "I heard you! On the phone! You said, 'I'm sending it to the scrap heap'! You said, 'It's too stressful'! You said, 'Goodbye'!"

Michael blinked. He replayed the conversation in his head.

Scrap heap. Stressful. Goodbye.

Then he looked at the keys to his Toyota Yaris on the desk.

A slow realization dawned on him.

He started to laugh.

It started as a chuckle, then grew into a full-blown belly laugh. He laughed until tears ran down his face.

The players looked at each other, confused.

"Is he crazy?" Diego whispered to Enzo. "Does stress make you laugh?"

"Maybe he is broken," Lars suggested. "We fix him."

"I'm not broken," Michael gasped, wiping his eyes. "And I'm not retiring, you absolute idiots."

He picked up the car keys. He dangled them in front of Arthur.

"Arthur. Do you know what this is?"

"A key?" Arthur guessed. "To your heart?"

"No. It's the key to my 2005 Toyota Yaris. The one with the broken exhaust."

He looked at the squad.

"I was talking to my mum about my car. I'm scrapping my car. Not my career."

The silence returned. But this time, it was the silence of profound stupidity.

Kaito slowly let go of Michael's leg. "So... you are not leaving?"

"Leaving?" Michael stood up. "Kaito, I just bought a house with a lake. I just signed a five-year contract. I'm trying to sign the son of a Butcher from Argentina. Why the fuck would I leave?"

"Oh," Kaito said. He stood up, dusting off his knees. "That makes more sense."

"The car is stressful?" Diego asked, looking at the keys suspiciously.

"Yes, Diego. It makes a noise like a dying cow."

"I can fix it," Diego offered. "I punch the engine."

"Please don't punch my car, Diego."

Relief washed over the room like a tidal wave. Jax collapsed onto the sofa. "Bro, that was scary. I almost deleted my account."

Enzo Moretti took a sip of his espresso. "Arthur," he said coolly. "Next time you spy, maybe clean your ears."

Arthur turned bright red. "I... I was emotional! The context was misleading!"

Michael walked around the desk. He looked at his players. They had stormed his office, threatened to kidnap him, and cried on his carpet.

Because they loved him.

It was ridiculous. It was unprofessional. It was perfect.

"Listen to me," Michael said, his voice soft but firm. "I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me. We have a Dynasty to build. We have Dortmund to kill."

He looked at Diego.

"And besides, who else would hire you maniacs?"

Diego grinned. "No one. We are unmanageable."

"Exactly," Michael smiled. "Now get out of my office. You have training in ten minutes. And Kaito?"

"Yes, Boss?"

"Stop crying. It ruins the 'Titanium Samurai' image."

"Yes, Boss!" Kaito beamed, wiping his face.

They filed out of the office, pushing and shoving, laughing at Arthur.

"You idiot, Arthur!"

"Scrap heap! Hahaha!"

Michael watched them go. He felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the coffee.

They were a family. A dysfunctional, loud, violent family.

He picked up the car keys.

"Goodbye, old friend," he whispered to the keys. "You caused a lot of trouble today."

He threw them into the bin.

Then he sat back down. He opened his laptop.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[SQUAD BONDING EVENT: COMPLETE]

[TRUST LEVEL: MAX]

[HIDDEN TRAIT UNLOCKED: 'LOYALTY BEYOND REASON']

[EFFECT: Players will play through injury and fatigue for the Manager.]

Michael smiled.

"Loyalty beyond reason," he muttered. "Arthur almost gave me a heart attack, and I got a stat boost. Fair trade."

He looked at the calendar.

MATCHDAY: BARNSLEY VS DORTMUND

2 DAYS TO GO.

"Okay," Michael cracked his knuckles. "Now that we've cleared up the retirement rumors... let's go start a war."

He picked up the phone. He dialed Kenji.

"Kenji?"

"Michael! Did you buy the bull?"

"No. But listen. I need a new car. Something fast. Something purple."

"Say less, Michael. I will buy you a Batmobile."

"Just a car, Kenji. Just a car."