The storm had passed, but Blackhaven Stadium still looked like a battlefield. Puddles filled the cracked pavement, rust coated the stadium gates, and the air smelled of damp grass and faded glory.
Daisuke Kurogane walked across the tunnel leading to the training grounds. This was his club now.
But as he stepped onto the pitch, he was greeted by the reality of his new team.
A disaster.
A dozen players stood in loose clusters, halfheartedly stretching, chatting, and laughing as if they were at a Sunday picnic. Some looked out of shape, while others barely acknowledged his presence.
Daisuke's sharp gaze scanned the group like a hawk.
This wasn't a team. This was a group of men collecting a paycheck.
A tall, muscular player with short blond hair and a commanding presence stood near the center of the squad. Aaron Vance, the club captain.
The moment he spotted Daisuke, his expression darkened.
"So you're the new manager?" Aaron scoffed, arms crossed. "We got a kid running the club now?"
Daisuke ignored the remark.
"You're the captain, correct?" His voice was calm, even.
Aaron narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, and?"
Daisuke tilted his head. "Then why aren't you leading?"
The entire squad fell silent.
Aaron's jaw clenched. "Leading what? The club's finished. We're dead last. No money, no hope. Hell, we don't even know if we're getting paid next month."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the squad. Daisuke could feel the weight of their frustration.
It didn't matter.
He took one slow step forward, his presence suffocating despite his calm tone.
"I don't care about your excuses," he said. "We're training. Now."
A few players chuckled. One of them, a lean midfielder with messy brown hair, whispered to his teammate.
"What's he gonna teach us? He's never played pro in his life."
Daisuke turned to him. "You."
The midfielder flinched. "Me?"
"You're Lewis Carter, right? Midfield. 26 years old. Average passing, good footwork, but zero vision."
Lewis blinked. "H-Hey, what—"
Daisuke turned to another player, a stocky defender with a scruffy beard.
"You. Marcus Hill. Center-back. Strong physique, but your reaction time is slow. You get beaten by fast attackers every time."
Marcus looked offended. "How the hell would you know that?"
Daisuke smiled slightly. "Because I've watched every single one of your matches. Every mistake, every weakness, every bad habit. I know this team better than you know yourselves."
A heavy silence settled over the squad. Even Aaron seemed taken aback.
Daisuke took another step forward.
"You all think I'm just some rich fool who bought a club for fun," he said. "Fine. I don't care what you believe. But from this moment on, you have two options."
His gaze hardened.
"You either keep up... or you get left behind."
The players exchanged uneasy glances.
"Now," Daisuke gestured to the field. "Training starts. No more talking."
Aaron scoffed, but there was hesitation in his eyes.
"Fine, coach. But don't cry when you realize we're a lost cause."
Daisuke smiled.
We'll see about that.