Michael was staring at his laptop screen. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was not dreaming.

He was looking at the Premier League table after Game Week 2.

1. Manchester City 6 pts

2. Arsenal 6 pts

3. Liverpool 6 pts

...

10. Chelsea 3 pts

11. Barnsley 3 pts

12. Manchester United 3 pts

They were eleventh. They were mid table. They were above Manchester United because of head to head record.

"We are not in the relegation zone," Michael whispered to the empty room.

"We are actually safe."

The door opened. Arthur Milton walked in.

He was holding a stack of papers that was thick enough to stop a bullet.

"Morning Boss," Arthur rasped placing the papers on the desk. "Have you seen the numbers? The analytics department is going crazy. The computer started smoking earlier."

"Show me," Michael said.

Arthur opened the first page.

MATCH STATISTICS: GAME WEEK 1 & 2

MOST TACKLES WON: Diego Nunez (18)

Note: The next closest player has 10.

"Diego is a monster," Arthur chuckled. "He tackled Rashford so hard that Rashford followed him on Instagram after the game out of respect."

Michael turned the page.

DISTANCE COVERED: Kenji Sato (29.5 km)

"Twenty nine kilometers in two games?" Michael asked. "That is not human Arthur. That is a Toyota Prius."

"He ran home after the United game too," Arthur admitted. "He said he had excess energy and wanted to save bus fare."

Michael shook his head smiling. He turned to the next page. This was the one he was worried about.

LEAST DISTANCE COVERED: Kai Sora (4.2 km)

"Four kilometers?" Michael sighed. "Sam Jones our goalkeeper ran three kilometers. Kai is barely moving."

"But look at this," Arthur said pointing to the bottom of the page.

CHANCES CREATED: Kai Sora (8)

PASS COMPLETION: 98 percent

DEFENDERS CONFUSED: All of them

"He walks but he destroys," Arthur said. "The pundits do not know what to say. Gary Neville tried to analyze Kai on TV last night. He just got a headache and changed the subject."

Michael closed the folder.

"We have three points Arthur. We beat United. We survived Anfield without being humiliated. We are real."

"We are very real," Arthur agreed. "And that is the problem. Now people want a piece of us."

"What do you mean?"

Arthur pointed to the window.

"Look outside."

Michael stood up and walked to the window.

Usually the car park contained the players cars. A few Audis. A few Mercedes. And Kenji Sato bicycle.

But today there was something else.

A helicopter.

A sleek black helicopter sat in the middle of the training pitch. The blades were still spinning slowly.

"Who is that?" Michael asked.

"That," Arthur said checking his phone "is Julian Thorne. The American billionaire. He owns a tech company in Silicon Valley. He owns a streaming service. And apparently he is a big fan of the Misfits."

"He landed on my grass," Michael frowned. "If he damaged the hybrid surface I will bill him."

"I think he can afford it Boss," Arthur said. "He wants to see you. Now."

Ten minutes later Michael sat in the boardroom.

Sitting opposite him was Julian Thorne. The billionaire was wearing a t shirt that probably cost more than Michael house. He wore sunglasses indoors. He had perfect white teeth.

"Michael Sterling!" Julian boomed standing up to shake hands. "The Wonder Boy! The Architect of Chaos! I love it! I love the narrative!"

"Nice to meet you Mr Thorne," Michael said. "Please do not land on the grass next time. Diego Nunez gets angry if there are holes in the pitch."

Julian laughed. "I like that! The Bull! That guy is box office. Listen Michael. I am a busy man. I buy companies. I buy islands. But right now? I want to buy into this."

He gestured around the room.

"Barnsley Football Club. It is the best story in sports. You have the Rejects. The Misfits. The Carousel! My data analysts in California are obsessed with your tactics. They say it makes no sense mathematically but it works emotionally."

"We try our best," Michael said calmly.

"I want to be your main sponsor," Julian said. "I want my logo on that shirt. I want to pay for your stadium expansion. I want to make a documentary series. The Dynasty Awakening. Catchy title right?"

Michael leaned back in his chair.

"We already have sponsors Mr Thorne."

"I will buy them out," Julian waved his hand. "I will triple their money. Listen. I am offering you fifty million pounds a year. For five years."

Arthur Milton choked on his water in the corner.

Fifty million. That was Champions League money. That was top six money.

"And what do you want in return?" Michael asked.

"Access," Julian grinned. "I want cameras in the locker room. I want microphones on the players. I want the world to see Kai Sora sleeping before a game. I want the world to see Diego eating raw meat or whatever he does."

Michael thought about it.

Fifty million pounds. He could buy better players. He could upgrade the facilities to world class levels. He could secure the future of the club forever.

But cameras? Distractions?

Michael looked at the picture of his Dad on the wall. Steve Sterling loved a deal. But Steve Sterling also protected his family.

"Mr Thorne," Michael said slowly. "Fifty million is a lot of money."

"It is pocket change for me," Julian shrugged.

"But my players are not actors," Michael said. "They are young men. They are fighting for their careers. If I put cameras in their faces they will stop being real. They will start performing."

Julian frowned. He lowered his sunglasses. "So you are saying no?"

"I am saying yes to the money," Michael smiled. "But no to the cameras in the locker room. You can sponsor the shirt. You can sponsor the stadium. Call it the Thorne Fortress if you want. But the locker room? That is sacred. That is for the family only."

Julian stared at Michael. The silence stretched for a long time.

Then the billionaire smiled.

"You have guts kid. I like guts. Most people just take the check and say thank you."

Julian stood up.

"Okay. Deal. No cameras in the locker room. But I want one thing."

"What?"

"I want a selfie with Kai Sora. My daughter loves him. She thinks he is an anime character come to life."

Michael laughed. "That we can arrange."

An hour later Julian Thorne flew away in his helicopter.

Michael stood on the pitch holding a contract worth two hundred and fifty million pounds over five years.

Arthur Milton was leaning on his cane looking at the helicopter disappear into the clouds.

"We are rich Boss," Arthur whispered. "We are actually rich."

"We were always rich Arthur," Michael said putting the contract in his pocket. "Now we just have money to match the talent."

Michael felt a vibration in his pocket.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[FINANCIAL STATUS UPDATE: WEALTHY]

[CLUB VALUATION: SKYROCKETING]

[NEW BUDGET AVAILABLE: JANUARY TRANSFER WINDOW]

Michael smiled. January was months away. He had plenty of time to plan.

But right now he had a bigger problem.

He walked into the canteen.

The players were eating lunch. The mood was electric.

Isaiah King was standing on a table again.

"London!" Isaiah shouted. "My city! My ends! We are going home boys!"

"Sit down Isaiah," Diego Nunez grunted eating a mountain of pasta. "London is just a place with too much traffic and small portions of food."

"You do not understand!" Isaiah argued. "Arsenal let me go. They said I was too small. They said I had an attitude."

Isaiah jumped off the table. He looked at Michael who had just walked in.

"Boss!" Isaiah ran over. "Did you see the helicopter? Was it Arsenal begging for me back?"

"No Isaiah," Michael smiled. "It was just a fan. A very rich fan."

Michael looked at the squad.

"Sunday," Michael announced. "The Emirates Stadium. Arsenal are top of the league. They have won two games. They scored six goals."

"They have Saka," Finn Riley said looking nervous. "He is world class."

"We have Isaiah," Kai Sora said from the back of the room.

Everyone turned to look at Kai.

Kai was playing on a handheld game console. He did not look up.

"Saka is good," Kai said. "But he is predictable. He cuts inside. Isaiah is chaos. Chaos is harder to stop."

Isaiah beamed. "See! The genius knows!"

Michael clapped his hands.

"Arsenal expect us to be tired," Michael said. "They think we ran too much against United. They think the Tank is empty."

He looked at Kenji Sato.

"Kenji. Is the tank empty?"

Kenji stood up and bowed. "My tank is full Sterling san. I charged it with solar power and pasta."

"Good," Michael said.

"This is a special game," Michael continued. "Not just for the points. But for Isaiah."

He put a hand on Isaiah shoulder.

"They threw you away. They closed the door. On Sunday we knock on that door."

"We have money now boys," Michael told them. "Big money. The future of this club is safe. But money does not win games. You win games."

"I will win it," Isaiah promised. His eyes were burning with a fire that Michael had not seen before.

"I will make Arteta cry."

"Please do not make him cry," Michael laughed. "Just score a goal. It is more effective."

Michael walked out of the canteen.

He went back to his office. He sat down and looked at the Premier League table again.

Eleventh place.

If they beat Arsenal they could go to sixth. It was crazy.

But as Michael watched the helicopter fade into the distance he realized something.

Impossible was just a word used by people who did not have a System.

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