Alrop and the still-fuming Alensky both fell silent, as if their tongues had been cut out.
Across the table, Lucy's already large eyes widened even further in shock.
"Why are you all so surprised? We're here to discuss how we'll work together moving forward."
"Ha ha! I was nervous because I heard the Director lived in Germany for so long, but he's quite the character!" Alrop chuckled jovially, though Alensky's suspicious gaze remained unchanged.
"Everything is clearly stated in the contract. At the very least, we must adhere to the contract period."
"So you're a stickler for the rules, is that it?"
"Hmph, Coach Alensky. Why are you being so prickly?"
"Yes, that's right. A stickler for the rules. You've hit the nail on the head."
I pulled out the contract—the copy Lucy had brought.
"From now on, all our conversations will be based on this contract."
"..."
Alrop's hearty laughter faded. He was no pushover either; his expression darkened.
"Based on this contract, I will treat both of you as core coaches of our club. And you, in turn, must deliver accordingly."
The contract was identical except for a few special clauses and provisions. I pointed to one of them:
"You agree to abide by the club's regulations and accept any penalties for non-compliance."
"..."
"For example, penalties like withholding weekly wages or imposing fines on players who are late or cause scandals."
"Isn't that part of the team's disciplinary code?"
"Unfortunately, it's a club-wide regulation. We've never had to fine the coaching staff before, which is why it hasn't been enforced on them."
"Are you saying you'll pay a fine now? To the Coach?"
"Why are you so angry? The fine system was never meant to distinguish between the Coach and the players. Besides, would a Coach who's supposed to set an example for the players ever act in a way that warrants a fine? That's why it seemed to apply only to the players."
Alensky's expression darkened. If Lucy hadn't been present, he looked ready to take off his watch.
"For instance, yesterday's incident—leaving work during duty hours and unilaterally canceling training based on personal judgment—could warrant a suspension of your weekly salary."
"Ha!"
Undeterred by Alensky's derisive laugh, I continued, "I suggest you refrain from calling the Club next week, even if your salary is withheld."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Aren't you the Head Coach?"
You?
I chuckled softly.
"Whether I'm the Head Coach or whatever, aren't you just the Physical Coach?"
"...!"
Seeing the flash of anger in his eyes, I raised my hand.
He was momentarily speechless. Seizing the opportunity, I snapped, "I understand the importance of the Physical Coach. That's why I want you to stay. But... you're supposed to be like a big brother to the players, someone they can talk to freely? It seems you don't give a damn about hierarchy."
"Huh...?"
People often make the mistake of assuming European sports culture is less hierarchical.
It can certainly appear that way. Player insubordination occasionally makes headlines, collective actions are not uncommon, and news stories about managers benching players after disputes are hardly rare.
Upon reflection, the very fact that such news surfaces proves that these incidents are far from common or ordinary.
Even in European sports, a player defying orders or staging a collective protest is a major event worthy of headlines.
If such conflicts occur between players and managers, how much more strained must the relationship be between coaches and managers?
The term "faction" exists for a reason.
The manager is the general, and the coaches who follow him are his subordinates.
This hierarchy is clear and absolute. And this applies even more so to a regular physical coach, not someone with exceptional tactical acumen.
"Let's maintain proper respect for hierarchy. I won't criticize you for being friendly with the players—a coach like an older brother? Fine, do as you please. But if you apply that same standard to me..."
"..."
My voice trailed off, and a moment of silence hung in the air.
Suddenly, I laughed and pointed at Lucy.
"You'll be hearing a stern warning from our Chairman."
"..."
Lucy stared at me in disbelief before letting out a bitter laugh.
"There's no need for any warning from me. You're not the Head Coach, Director, you're the Manager."
"!"
At those words, even the huffing Alensky and the calmly observing Alrop paled.
Though both the Head Coach and the Manager held the title of "Director," their authority was as different as heaven and earth.
"Since you're not a Head Coach overseeing the entire team, Coach Alensky and Coach Alrop, please be mindful of your words and actions."
"..."
The Head Coach was, quite literally, merely the leader of the coaching staff.
The Head Coach is solely responsible for managing the team, including player training, tactics, and overall team management, just like any other coach.
In contrast, the Manager is the true Director in the fullest sense of the word.
Their responsibilities extend beyond team management to include transfer market negotiations, player contract issues, and even influencing some of the club's policies.
"It seems our club's situation has improved significantly? Heh. You're granting me a lot of authority."
"Our situation remains precarious. We're still terrified of termination fees."
By mentioning termination fees, Lucy subtly reminded him that he could be fired at any time. She continued, "I understand that clubs with poor finances typically don't grant much authority to their managers. Even though this is my first time as Club Owner, I know that much."
As a manager's authority grows, their influence over transfer markets and other club affairs strengthens.
A manager who also oversees finances won't hesitate to sign players, because good players should always be acquired.
Managers are naturally ambitious. Therefore, clubs with weak finances tend to limit the manager's authority, often confining them to the role of Head Coach.
But I am different.
"Despite this, we're granting full authority to Manager Eric here because we trust him completely. I, as the Chairman of this club, and as the Chairman of the Supporters' Association that currently leads the club, believe you all understand what that means."
Lucy's position is peculiar.
She is currently the Chairman of the club, but her foundation lies in her election to the position through the overwhelming support of the Supporters' Association. In other words, she can mobilize the influence of the fans themselves.
Above all, the Supporters' Association played a crucial role in preventing the club's bankruptcy.
Lucy, the Chairman of the Association, inevitably wielded greater authority within this small club than most club owners.
Lucy's clear and unwavering support had been added to my own.
I gave her a subtle nod, conveying my gratitude through my eyes.
Lucy shrugged and leaned back in her chair, signaling that she had done her part and now it was up to me to finish the job. She seemed to be watching with anticipation.
I lightly tapped my fork against the plate.
Clink.
"Let's wrap this up. I've made my position clear to both Coaches. You'll come with me, won't you?"
"...Following protocol, I agree. But let's review the contract clauses in detail first."
While Alensky was venting his anger, Alrop, who had been calmly observing the situation, spoke softly.
"Here it is. However, the Club's operating rules and code of conduct can be amended or deleted through discussions among the coaching staff."
"Yes, I see that."
"I'd like to schedule a meeting later to discuss the Club's code of conduct and rules. Strictly according to principle."
The mustachioed man smiled gently, and I returned the smile.
"Let's do that. Then let's talk tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes. We need to get to work. Both coaches are full-time staff. Even on days without training or when the players are resting, you're still required to come in on weekdays. Strictly according to principle."
"..."
"I'll see you tomorrow. I won't bother getting up."
"Are you just going to stand there, Coach?"
"What are you talking about?" Alrop asked, his tone suspicious. Alensky frowned.
"Isn't it obvious? They won't fire us because the players follow us. They're using us to control the players and using the rules to control you and me, Coach."
You might ask if a mere week's suspension of our weekly wages is something to fear.
You'd be right.
Who wouldn't be furious if a quarter of their monthly salary vanished in a single day?
Especially in the lower leagues, where weekly wages aren't the astronomical sums people often imagine. They're more on par with what an average office worker earns.
The real problem is that once such a precedent is set, there's no arguing against it, no matter what you bring up.
"Well, it's basically telling us to quit if we're unhappy. If we resign, we won't have to pay the penalty for breaking our contracts. Isn't that an obvious tactic?"
"But right now, neither you nor I can really refute that obvious tactic, can we?"
"...Hah, that's because he claims to have full authority."
"The problem is the Manager showed up at the clubhouse on the one day I left work early and witnessed everything firsthand. Hearing him say it so bluntly right in front of me made my face burn so badly I couldn't even look up. How could I possibly argue with him in that situation?"
"If we let things continue like this, we'll just be puppets dancing in the Manager's palm."
"So, what do you propose we do?"
Alrop maintained his enigmatic smile.
That sly old fox.
He refused to reveal his hand. Alensky didn't like it, but what could he do? As a mere Physical Coach, he lacked the influence of Alrop, the Tactical Coach.
"The players have followed you and me for years, Coach. Even though the captain remains neutral... well, if we mobilize the players, how long do you think the Manager can resist?"
"What are you suggesting, man? Are you advocating for a mass rebellion?"
"Come now, a mass rebellion? The players are individuals with their own agency. They have the right to request tactical adjustments, training modifications, and so on, based on their own will."
"That's going too far. There's no need to go that far. Let's start by revising the club's code of conduct and rules tomorrow."
"Hmm."
"Since we're the only two coaches anyway, what's the problem?" Alrop said dismissively.
"It would have made more sense if they'd hired a new coach before starting all this. But it doesn't matter. We just need to seize the initiative early on."
"Hmm, I see," Alensky nodded in agreement as they left the restaurant.
Thump.
"Ah, sorry!"
"Ah, no problem."
Someone who had bumped into Alensky hurried into the restaurant.
"Doesn't look like their dress code fits this place, does it?" Alensky tilted his head, then shrugged.
"Tsk. I can't wait to see the manager's face twist tomorrow."
"Why aren't you cutting him?"
"We don't have the money."
"We can pay the penalty!"
"What about player acquisitions? Weekly wages? Club operating expenses?"
"W-well, not that much..."
"We need to save every penny we can, given our club's situation."
"But do you think those guys will just meekly bow their heads after fines and wage suspensions?"
"They won't."
"You know that, yet you're still doing this!"
"It doesn't matter if they don't bow their heads."
"Huh?"
Lucy's eyes widened. I chuckled softly.
"Even if they don't bow their heads, it's fine as long as they do their jobs."
"What do you mean?"
"Coach Alop. We hired him back in the Championship days. His career is outstanding. While career isn't everything, the experience he's accumulated has intrinsic value. Do you think we can find another coach like him?"
Lucy hesitated, then shook her head.
"If he just does his job, there won't be a better coach out there. Bowing his head? I don't care about that. As long as he performs his duties flawlessly throughout the season without any slip-ups, I don't care if he badmouths me behind my back or whatever."
"So it's all about results?"
"It's about efficiency. Given our team's situation, we have to prioritize efficiency above all else."
"Hmm. What about Alensky? You said you hate his handsome face?"
"I hate his greasy face."
"Same thing."
"Replacing the physical coach is easy enough. But he's not as lazy as you think."
"Hmm? He seemed a bit tipsy earlier."
"His beard was neatly trimmed, and so were his eyebrows and sideburns. He even used cologne to mask the alcohol scent. He probably put something on his face to hide the redness."
"Was that... so?"
"Well, he's a bit of a playboy and likes to have fun, so he probably takes care of his appearance. But even though he enjoys drinking, his elbows, shoulders, chest, and thighs looked really solid. Not all physical coaches are that strict about their own fitness."
"What is this, Sherlock Holmes? I remember watching that drama when we were kids. Anyway, do you think he'll be good at his job?"
"He'll do the basics, at least. Besides, I heard he's already close to the players."
"That's the problem! What if the players start following him instead of you?"
Lucy's worries kept piling up.
"Don't worry about that."
"..."
"If I couldn't even control the team, I wouldn't have come here in the first place."
Lucy's lips twitched as if she wanted to say something, but she let out a faint sigh instead.
"Yeah, sorry. I should trust you completely. I was just being negative for no reason."
"Keep going."
"Huh?"
"I don't mind your nagging and worrying."
"Ha!"
Lucy suddenly blew a sharp puff of air through her lips and crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes.
"What have you been up to in Germany?"
"Just playing soccer."
"That sounds like a lie..."
Lucy scrutinized me with narrowed eyes, but I met her gaze without flinching.
I'd steeled my resolve against the jeers and cheers of tens of thousands of fans, and the relentless barrage of criticism from social media and the press.
You think I'd be shaken by just your glare, Lucy?
"Fine. Since you're so confident, I'll point out one of your mistakes."
She unfolded her arms and rested her chin in her hand.
"Coach Alrop pointed out the loophole, right? The coaches can discuss and revise the rules."
"That's right."
"Those two are the only coaches. You're alone."
"..."
"Ta-da! What are you going to do in this situation? What if you lose all means of controlling them?"
"I'm not alone."
"Huh?"
"Perfect timing. Hey!"
As I waved, Lucy tilted her head and turned around.
A small man with horn-rimmed glasses was hovering near the entrance.
"What's this? Who is he?"
"Just as I expected, he came right away. Since we're all here today, let's settle this in one go."
"What exactly?"
I grinned. At my gesture, Horn-rimmed glasses man hesitated before approaching.
"Introduce yourself. This is our Club Owner, Chairman, and President of the Supporters' Association—basically, the highest-ranking person. And this is the candidate for today's interview."
"Interview?"
"For the Head Coach position."
Lucy looked bewildered, and the eyes behind horn rimmer glasses seemed equally clueless.
Alrop? Alensky?
No matter how hard they try to exert their influence over me, their efforts pale before true genius.
"Maximilian. He's the Head Coach I want to bring in."