"Pathetic. Horrendous. Spine-chilling."
He lowered his voice, not wanting the young players, who were celebrating wildly after scoring, to overhear.
But he couldn't suppress his frustration entirely.
"Passing, physicality, speed, clearances—nothing's working."
The only redeeming aspects were the winger's penetrating runs, executed as instructed, and fullback James's reckless sprints down the flank, which had somehow led to a goal.
Yet he couldn't bring himself to smile.
"Offside, wasn't it?"
The striker's headed goal had clearly been offside.
But what could he do? There were no referees here.
"And when someone overlaps, the others should cover the vacated space properly."
Despite witnessing the obvious overlap, no one bothered to fill the gap.
The space opened up completely, just as he'd feared.
If the overlap failed and the ball went to the other team, a single pass would set up a perfect counterattack.
"Of course, it doesn't look like they have the ability to counterattack either..."
A bitter smile escaped him involuntarily.
One thing was certain:
"There's no way we can call up any youth players."
He hadn't been watching this practice and giving instructions for nothing.
Given the club's current thin roster, they should be using youth players if they could.
Unfortunately, it was clear at a glance:
There wasn't a single player ready. He hadn't fully grasped the level of the Fourth Division yet, but this was far from professional level. He had to understand—they were just kids.
"Just..."
"Are you the new manager?"
The man had a stern face and a heavy presence.
John Jenkins.
Currently the captain of Mansfield and a one-club man who had never left the team.
The so-called Mr. Mansfield.
"I'm John Jenkins."
Jenkins extended his hand. Looking at his large hand, I placed both of mine on my hips.
"Yes. But, uh, was today's training canceled?"
"...You could say that."
"So it wasn't canceled because the players didn't show up, but rather it was automatically canceled because the players didn't show up?"
His face flushed with embarrassment as he withdrew the hand he had extended for a handshake. His complexion changed subtly, but I pressed on without acknowledging it.
"What about the coaches? According to the records, there should be two coaches left. Why aren't they here? There's no coach, no doctor... Who authorized this practice match?"
"...Is the practice session wrong?"
"Yes. It's wrong."
Jenkins didn't reply, only stared at me. At 194 cm tall and weighing around 90 kg, his imposing physique was undeniable.
Yet somehow, there was no sense of oppressive energy radiating from him.
"If someone gets injured during training with no coach, team doctor, or physical trainer present, what do you plan to do?"
"...!"
"The coach doesn't just stand on the touchline with his arms crossed and hands in his pockets. He monitors the players' condition, checks for potential injuries, and calms down any heated collisions during training. That's why the coach oversees the training sessions."
Jenkins' face flushed slightly.
"The coaches... they came out, saw that the players weren't on the training ground, canceled today's session, and went home."
"But what about you?"
"I need to train."
"Yes, I understand. Players need to train. But my question is, why are you staying behind instead of listening to the coach?"
"!"
"Could it be that you think you're different from the other players who refused to train? That you believe you're the only one holding the team together? Is that what you're thinking?"
"Your words are a bit harsh, considering we've just met."
"Just met, you say..."
I shook my head with a bitter smile. "Isn't it the same thing whether players skip training or stay despite the coaches' cancellation orders? Both are defying the coaching instructions."
"That's—!"
Jenkins opened his mouth to retort, then sighed, as if trying to suppress his anger.
He glared at me with cold eyes before turning his back and disappearing without another word.
His retreating figure lingered on my retina for a long moment. A sudden tightness gripped my chest.
I impulsively dialed a number.
—Already checking out the clubhouse?
"There wasn't much to see."
"Huh? Things have changed a lot since you were here."
"Yeah, a lot's different. The players didn't even show up for training."
"Ugh... that's just infuriating."
"I knew it wouldn't be a one-off."
"Did you meet with the coaches?"
"They canceled training and went home."
"Figures."
Lucy's reaction carried a hint of "I knew it."
"So, you didn't meet anyone else?"
"Uncle Jack. And John Jenkins."
"Ah! They must remember us! They've been with the club since we were kids, right? How's Jenkins doing? Looks like only our captain showed up for training?"
"Well, let's just say time's been cruel to him. Sentimental, I guess?"
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean? Ah, maybe his skills have declined compared to his prime..."
"It's not so much that his skills have declined, but he's become too much of an adult for my liking."
"...I have no idea what you're talking about."
"He's gotten old, too docile."
"What? Are you suggesting we retire him?"
Startled by the question, I shook my head lightly.
"Not at all. It's just that the Jenkins I remember has grown too old. He's become too patient."
"Seriously, can you stop speaking in riddles that only you understand? Huh? You're the Manager now, and I'm the Chairman, remember?"
"Ah, yes, Miss Chairman. Since the new Manager and the Chairman have so much to discuss, would you care to join me for a meal?"
"Have you set the date?"
"Yes, next Thursday."
"That was quick."
"I want to get it over with and move on. I have so many other things to focus on right now."
Lucy glanced around at the surrounding tables as she spoke. Her gaze lingered on one particular spot, refusing to break away.
"Why are you giving me those doe eyes over a glass of wine?"
"It's not just a glass of wine, it's market research. Market research. We may only distill whiskey, but we can't afford to be ignorant about wine either."
"It's going to be tough not being able to taste anything for a while."
"It'll be fine. The distillers who worked for my father are all experts and they're running things smoothly. The real problem... sigh... is our team."
"We need to operate quickly."
"Huh? The surgery's scheduled for next week."
"No, I mean the club's surgery. We're going to open it up completely and get the knives out."
Lucy's eyes sparkled as she chewed her salad with the listless energy of a cow chewing its cud.
"Naturally, the coaching staff will be first, right? I heard they just canceled practice yesterday and went home."
As if she had anticipated this, Lucy pulled documents from her bag: the résumés of two men.
One was a middle-aged man with an impressive mustache, and the other was a relatively young, handsome man.
"The mustachioed one is Alope McGeen, our tactical coach. He's been with the team for eight years, and as you can see, he has a solid track record. Even with multiple managerial changes, each new manager has wanted to keep him on."
"If it's been eight years, that means he was here even when the team was in the Championship, right?"
"Exactly. He's the coach we hired back then."
"And he's still here even after we've been relegated to the Fourth Division? Is it loyalty?"
Lucy smiled bitterly.
"No. It's the penalty clause."
"Huge?"
"Absolutely massive!"
"Who signed him?"
"One of the many club owners who came before me, I suppose."
"That explains it."
"He's a capable coach, and apparently he has some affection for the team. He even agreed to a pay cut to renew his contract. In exchange, the penalty clause became incredibly steep."
As Lucy spoke, she glanced at me, gauging my reaction.
"...If you're willing to review his performance and cut him loose, I can close my eyes to it."
The termination fee was steep, but it was common practice for coaching staff to be replaced when a new manager took over. Clubs often paid the fee to terminate contracts.
In this case, however, the termination fee was exceptionally high. Moreover, the club's current financial situation made even that fee a burden. Yet Lucy looked determined to bear the cost.
"It seems like you've been wanting to get rid of him for a while now, haven't you?"
"Hah, of course! It's not like this is the first time. He wasn't always like this, but after the constant manager changes, the team's fall to the Fourth Division, and the endless news reports about our impending doom... he's just trying to milk the contract for all it's worth. Like a leech! And if he gets fired, he'll pocket the termination fee!"
"Who's this guy?"
"Ah, that's Alensky. He's our Physical Coach. He's been with the team for two years."
"That's not long."
"He came with the previous manager. His buyout clause is pretty high too."
"What's he like?"
"The players like him, but..."
"A coach who's just popular with the players isn't usually a good coach."
"Exactly. To put it nicely, he's like a friend to the players, very informal. To put it bluntly, he's a bit of a slacker."
"Drinking and partying?"
"Even with the players."
My brow furrowed involuntarily. This is awful.
"The players love hanging out with him. He's good with women too."
"Booze and women... with the players? That's terrible. How does he pull it off?"
"Well, he's handsome, isn't he?"
"Handsome?"
"Yeah, handsome."
"Doesn't he look a bit too... greasy?"
"That's just the standard definition of handsome."
"..."
"Oh my? What's with that look in your eyes?" Lucy asked, grinning as she rested her chin in her hand. I replied casually, "I need to cut him off."
"Gasp! That's how jealous you are?"
"What are you talking about? Are you already anesthetized for surgery? You know the saying, 'New wine in new skins.'"
"Are you really talking about wine to a brewery owner right now?"
Lucy's bright smile gradually faded, her expression hardening.
"It's not that simple to cut him off, even without the penalty fees."
"I figured as much. It's about factions, isn't it?"
"!"
"There are two coaches, so it's not a split within the coaching staff. It's the players who are divided into those who follow one coach or the other, right?"
"Exactly. The veteran players are fiercely loyal to Coach Alrop—some even call him 'Father.' The younger players naturally favor Alensky. But how did you know?"
"I don't think they'd be content just passing the time and collecting their paychecks until their contracts expire. You know... there's such a thing as ego, right?"
"Ego?"
"Being fawned over everywhere as 'Coach, Coach.'"
"Is that really a thing?"
Surprisingly, such things matter a lot in human affairs.
"With no manager, a rookie club owner, and a weak club management team dominated by the Supporters' Association, who do you think really knows the most about running the club?"
"...The two coaches."
"Do you think the players don't realize that?"
"!"
"Any manager who comes to a team like this wouldn't bring their entire staff. They'd inevitably rely on advice from the existing coaches."
"So the players are lining up behind those two, knowing all that?"
"Well, it's a win-win. Aligning themselves, making friends—what's the downside? Plus, they get to take it easy without grueling training."
The coach doesn't issue warnings for skipping training; he simply cancels your participation.
Professional players would despise such behavior, but well, this failing club has no discipline left.
"Then we should fire him. A coach who usurps the manager's authority?"
"Let's at least see his face first."
"Huh?"
Lucy's eyes widened as I pulled out my phone.
"Now?"
"Yeah, now."
"Right here?"
"Right here."
"Weren't we... supposed to be having dinner?"
"We're almost finished, aren't we?"
"This is our first dinner alone in over a decade, at one of the few decent restaurants in this backwater town of Mansfield... and you're going to work?"
Lucy looked flustered. I shrugged.
"And I even dressed up for this?"
"Good job."
"Huh?"
"It's the setting, the atmosphere. It puts people under subtle pressure. Imagine being suddenly summoned to a fancy restaurant for dinner by the new manager and club owner. How would you feel?"
"!"
Despite this, a hint of inexplicable regret lingered on her face.
I replied firmly, as if dismissing any possibility of doubt.
"You have to seize the opportunity when you're dressed so beautifully. You look like a successful businesswoman."
"Hmm, hmm. Well... alright."
Having secured Lucy's approval, I immediately made a phone call.
Coach Alrop initially seemed flustered, but within three seconds, his attitude completely flipped.
"Of course I'll be there! I'm starting the car right now!"
Coach Alensky, however, proved more difficult.
"At this hour? I've heard about the new manager, but... can't we discuss this at work tomorrow?"
The slurring in his voice made it seem like the smell of alcohol was wafting through the phone.
"Come immediately. The Club Owner is busy and barely managed to make time for this."
*When in doubt, name-drop someone important.*
I ignored Lucy's bewildered stare.
"What kind of unreasonable behavior is this?"
"The unreasonable behavior is unilaterally leaving your post during work hours and going home. Does a coach just leave when training is canceled? There's such a thing as mutual good faith, isn't there?"
"Then I'll see you soon."
"Why does your voice sound so cold now? It was much warmer when you were talking to Coach Alrop."
Lucy smiled faintly, but there was no time for a reply.
As soon as I hung up with Alensky, Coach Alrop surprisingly appeared.
And he was wearing a suit.
"Good afternoon, Chairman. It's our second meeting. Ah, and this is..."
"I'm Manager Eric Reynolds."
"Pleased to meet you, Alrop McGeen. Ha ha! You're quite young for a manager!"
Alrop McGeen, with his striking mustache, was an exceptionally affable man. His voice was calm yet captivating, possessing an irresistible charm. Even Lucy, who had consistently shown her displeasure with the coaches, visibly relaxed as she spoke with him.
His natural ability to steer conversations was truly remarkable. It became immediately clear why every manager who came through the club had insisted on keeping him on staff.
"Having experienced football in the German Bundesliga, to have such an outstanding manager join our club... Chairman, you've truly worked wonders."
A tongue in the mouth.
He was like a tongue in my mouth, yet it didn't come across as obsequious. I watched him with keen interest. When I remained silent, Alrop cautiously shifted the topic.
"By the way, since you called me here, I assume you have something you want to discuss?"
"Ah, he's arriving just now. It's more convenient to address everyone at once."
The newcomer was Alensky, his greasy demeanor tinged with a hint of intoxication.
Alensky's arrival caused a subtle shift in Alrop's expression before it quickly returned to normal.
"Ahem, good to see you. I'm Coach Alensky."
"Please, have a seat."
"..."
Alensky's face darkened when I didn't rise to greet him. However, noticing Club Chairman Lucy and Alrop present, he seemed to sense this was no ordinary meeting and forced himself to suppress his displeasure.
A moment of silence hung in the air.
Lucy leaned forward, her posture suggesting she was waiting intently for me to speak.
Seeing Chairman Lucy's attentive demeanor, Alrop and Alensky remained silent, glancing at me sideways.
I tapped my fork lightly against the plate.
Clink.
All eyes snapped to me.
"You've probably already guessed the reason for this meeting. The new manager wants to interview both coaches in the presence of the club owner."
"!"
Alrop sighed softly and fell silent, while Alensky openly displayed his displeasure.
"Are you here to fire us?" he asked, roughly loosening his hastily tied tie as if it were choking him.
"Did you bring your whole army with you?"
"No, there's no army. What kind of army would a rookie manager in the Fourth Division have? I do have a head coach in mind, but it's hardly an army."
"So, are you planning to fire us and hire a new coach? Let's be honest: if the club posts a job ad, not a single applicant will apply. We're the only reason anyone's still here."
Anger flashed across Lucy's face at his words, but I calmed her with a subtle nod.
I chuckled softly, meeting Alensky's gaze directly.
"I know. You're the only coaches who would stick around here."
"Then why fire us? Do you think the Fourth Division is a joke? You're planning to run a league with over 40 matches without a coaching staff?"
"Who said anything about firing you?"
"...?"
A wave of puzzled stares washed over us.
"I want both of you to stay."
"!"
"Huh?"
I grinned.
"So, please lend me your support, seniors."