I needed to interpret, but the words wouldn't come out easily.
Even if the language barrier existed, it was clear that the manager was angry, and Sebastien was looking up at me with anxious eyes.
I was angry. So, I moved Sebastien behind me and stood in front of the manager.
I chose to speak in English instead of Spanish.
"Are you saying you don't know why Sebastien Rodriguez isn't fitting in or what the problem is within the club?"
A look of surprise crossed the manager's face.
Of course, it made no sense for him to claim he didn't know since he came to the training ground every day. Even without the helper's assistance, anyone could tell from observing just one training session that Sebastien was being bullied. The trio was that blatant.
I had been wanting to ask why this had been allowed to happen, so this was a good opportunity.
"Racism..."
"I'm not curious about why he isn't fitting in."
"What?"
"I said I'm not curious."
The manager looked at me with his lips pressed into a straight line, still not standing up from his chair.
"The players' issues should be resolved among themselves. That's a basic principle of being a professional athlete."
"Well, principles can vary. You're destroying a player's dignity; this is a matter you can't defend if it goes to the FA or UEFA!"
"I don't know anything about that."
This guy is unbelievable.
Something inside me was boiling over.
Sebastien grabbed my collar from behind.
"What's wrong? What did the manager say?"
"Nothing. Just wait a moment."
As Sebastien and I were talking, the manager slammed the papers he was holding down on the desk to catch my attention.
"Anyway, I'm done talking. If he can't adapt, it's better for him to skip training starting today. Relay my message clearly and don't overstep in the future. Interpreter."
With that, the manager pretended to focus on the papers. His gaze didn't move.
This was blatant disregard. He was dismissing me, as if to say he would continue working whether I was here or not.
Should I have grabbed him by the collar earlier?
"Why aren't you interpreting?"
Sebastien continued to mutter anxiously.
The manager's voice interrupted again.
"Are you still here?"
Hah… I calmed my anger and approached the manager to use the cheat code known as the helper. Using a cheat code on a guy like him would be nothing to feel guilty about; it would only be enjoyable. Before that, I made sure to tell Sebastien, "It'll be over soon."
In this situation, I couldn't offer a handshake, so I shoved the camcorder I had around my neck towards him.
"Here, take a look."
It was sudden, but I succeeded in grabbing the manager's attention. I could see he was leaning in, so I handed the camcorder to him, lightly touching his finger in the process.
Bzzzt.
It worked.
The video started playing.
I muted the sound so Sebastien wouldn't hear it, but the visuals were sufficient.
It was a compilation video of the trio aggressively targeting Sebastien, edited in bits and pieces while I created his daily report.
After the practice match, the claim that they would leave him alone for a week was true, as the trio had indeed not bothered him, so this video only contained footage from my first day observing the training—basic drills and the practice match.
"What's this?"
How brazen.
"What's the problem with pressing a smaller player with rough play?"
"No…"
I couldn't hold back.
Wasn't this clearly intentional? I was about to question it, but Sebastien tightened his grip on my collar.
The manager seemed to avoid my gaze, looking a bit guilty.
Could it be that this guy was also being threatened?
So, he was coming at me like this, huh?
Just wait, you bastard.
Sebastien exited the manager's office first, and just before I stepped out, I turned on my phone to check for information.
[Sam Gray]
Afraid of Liam Grant.
Left-footed.
Tactical ability is lacking.
The first line was a lucky find; the last two lines didn't seem immediately useful.
Whether he was afraid of being threatened or just scared, I figured that would be revealed over time. At the very least, I confirmed there was a connection.
I shot the manager one last glare before leaving the room.
Outside the door, I found the head coach, whom I occasionally greeted, chatting with Sebastien in fluent Spanish.
It was a friendly atmosphere, so I stood by, looking awkward. The head coach spoke to me first.
"Hello! You're Seb's interpreter, right?"
Unlike the manager, he looked pleasant, and his words and accent were polite. Though fatigue showed on his face, likely from an all-nighter, I extended my hand.
The head coach shook my hand and spoke in English so that Sebastien wouldn't understand.
"It must be tough with his performance dropping these past few months. Please take good care of him. Living abroad can be so lonely."
"Oh… Yes, thank you. I'll do my best."
He was the first person in the club to treat Sebastien kindly, so I was a bit taken aback.
"I haven't been able to check in on the players like I should since I'm so busy, so please apologize to Seb for me. Ah, I should go into the manager's office now. Sounds like there's trouble."
The head coach smiled gently as he looked toward the manager's office.
Inside the office, I could hear someone yelling, "Roy! Get in here quickly! Training is about to start!"
Once the head coach fully disappeared into the office, I quickly turned the helper back on to check for information about him.
[Roy Bradley]
Sleep time yesterday: 2 hours.
Sleep time two days ago: 1 hour and 31 minutes.
Feeling good.
What a weirdo; how could he feel good after sleeping so little?
I hadn't noticed him much during the week except in tactical meetings, but he seemed like a strange person.
Still, he didn't seem bad, so I thought I might buy a box of Red Bull later and have a chat with him.
As I finished my thoughts, I turned back to Sebastien.
Sebastien struck first against the players.
What did the manager say?"
I sighed and told the truth.
Sebastien's expression gradually hardened.
Then, ultimately, he looked defeated and uncertain. I comforted Sebastien, saying, "I'll contact the agency."
"What about today's training?"
"We have to go, for now."
If I left after hearing the manager's words and got penalized by the club for an unexcused absence, Sebastien would suffer without any pay.
I needed solid information or documentation before taking any action. Above all, I had no intention of complying with the manager's wishes.
Sebastien still didn't look good. I gave him a playful slap on the back, mimicking my sister's signature move.
"Get it together. You're a pro. I'll do what I can, so you have to give it your all too."
"Really?"
As if forgetting about his previous anxiety, trust began to take root in Sebastien's eyes.
"Okay, I'll do my best. See you at training."
With a determined look, Sebastien walked off toward the dressing room.
As I walked toward the training ground, I organized my thoughts.
What should I do next?
After the morning training session, I needed to call the agency and diversify the information I could gather from the helper. Most importantly, I needed physical evidence. The information from the helper could only serve as a reference and wouldn't hold up in court.
The trio had been more cunning than expected. Ever since they promised a week's grace, they hadn't bothered Sebastien at all.
So, there was no video or audio evidence; only the rough play from the first day. There was nothing related to racism.
But it would likely start up again tomorrow.
That meant I needed to remember to keep the recording device on when filming training. I would use my smartphone for today, but I should consider buying an additional recorder as well.
I was glad to have an extra day.
As I arrived at the training ground, I noticed not just the trio, but other players too, as well as club officials and coaching staff setting up training equipment.
I realized I had neglected to gather information on them as well.
From today onward, I needed to actively engage and register them in the helper system.
As I gathered my thoughts and approached Liam Grant, my phone vibrated.
[Liam Grant]
Regular at Hotel Sea Garden.
Hah, give me some dirt I can use against you.
I sighed and approached Sebastien, who was just getting changed.
A little while later, the manager came out to the training ground, and the session began. He looked at Sebastien and me with a displeased expression but didn't actually intervene.
Now that I thought about it, I noticed Roy Bradley, the head coach, was missing.
Upon reflection, I realized I hadn't seen him at all during the past week. It wasn't that he lacked presence; he simply hadn't shown up at the training ground. I asked Sebastien, who had just finished physical training.
"Does the head coach not come to training?"
"No, he mainly focuses on analyzing the opposing team and tactics, so we only see him during meetings."
If that's the case, it was possible that he didn't know Sebastien was being racially discriminated against. Then I'd have to move forward without him.
"I'll go talk to some of the other players during break."
Sebastien tilted his head.
"I said I'd do what I could, right? Trust me. I'll bring back results like last week."
"With the mystery of the East?"
"...Uh, right."
It was a phrase I hadn't heard in a while, and I stumbled over my response.
"I'll be looking forward to it!"
Sebastien nodded enthusiastically and dashed onto the training field. The training was split into offense and defense, focusing on breaking pressure and building up plays.
Whether he was on the defensive or offensive team, Sebastien shone brightly. I nearly forgot to strike up conversations with the coaching staff while watching him train.
On defense, he excelled with his quick pace and sound judgment, contributing significantly to the pressure. On offense, as a wide midfielder, he played a crucial role in the buildup with solid passing and off-the-ball movement.
"Well done!"
I cheered and clapped as Sebastien scored a goal. I didn't forget to glance at the manager.
The manager, who had just warned Sebastien not to participate in training earlier, said nothing with his expressionless face.
Was he really going to chase off a player who performed that well?
If he was that deluded, maybe he should quit as a manager.
Anyway, with Sebastien working so hard, I needed to do my best too.
"Here, have a drink."
"Thanks..."
I had lost count of how many times I had handed towels and drinks to the players, only for them to look away when they saw my face.
Their gazes always ended up glancing at Liam Grant and the other members of the trio.
I had wanted to have a conversation, but with this reaction, I couldn't help it. Still, I had achieved my intended goal, so it was fine.
I smiled as I looked at the number displayed on the status bar.
[Helper +39]