Michael stood in front of the board. It was covered in names.

GOALKEEPER: Sam Jones (Need backup)

DEFENSE: Solid (Diego, Pavard, Higgins)

MIDFIELD: Kai, Kenji (Need aggression)

ATTACK: Isaiah, Danny, Erik (Need depth)

Arthur Milton was sitting in the corner. He was fanning himself with a scouting dossier.

"It is too hot Boss," Arthur complained. "My brain is melting. Can we sign a player who lives in a fridge?"

"We are going somewhere hotter Arthur," Michael said turning around. "Pack your bags. We are going to Portugal."

Arthur sat up. His eyes lit up.

"Portugal?" Arthur asked. "Pastel de Nata? Custard tarts? Grilled fish?"

"Yes," Michael smiled. "And a Pitbull."

The flight to Lisbon was smooth. Arthur spent three hours reading a guidebook about Portuguese bakeries while Michael analyzed video clips on his tablet.

They were looking for Enzo Silva.

The nineteen year old midfielder was currently playing for Estoril. The clips showed a player who did not understand the concept of a friendly match. In one clip Enzo chased a ball for sixty yards, tackled the winger, stood up, and then shouted at the ball for running away.

"He is angry," Michael noted. "I like it."

"He looks like Diego Nunez but smaller," Arthur noted looking at the screen. "Like a mini bull."

"We need that energy," Michael said. "In the Conference League we will play in hostile stadiums. We need someone who bites back."

They landed in Lisbon and took a taxi to the coast. Estoril was beautiful. The sun was shining on the Atlantic Ocean. Tourists were eating ice cream.

But Michael and Arthur were not there for ice cream. They walked into the small stadium where Estoril was playing a pre season friendly against a local team.

The stands were mostly empty. Just a few old men smoking cigars and some families.

"There he is," Arthur pointed. "Number six."

Enzo Silva was easy to spot. He was shorter than the other midfielders. He had a shaved head and he wore his socks low.

The game started.

It was a friendly match. The pace was slow. The players were jogging.

Except for Enzo.

Minute 5.

The opposition midfielder received the ball. He turned slowly.

Enzo Silva arrived like a missile.

THUD.

Enzo won the ball with a sliding tackle that took a piece of the turf. The opponent fell over looking shocked.

The referee blew the whistle.

"Calm down Enzo!" the referee shouted. "It is a friendly!"

Enzo stood up. He looked confused.

"I do not understand friendly," Enzo shouted back in Portuguese. "The ball does not have friends!"

Michael smiled. He felt the phone in his pocket vibrate.

[SYSTEM ANALYSIS]

[TARGET: ENZO SILVA]

[NICKNAME: THE PITBULL]

[AGGRESSION: 19/20]

[STAMINA: ENDLESS]

[PASSING: AVERAGE]

[SPECIAL TRAIT: ANKLE BITER]

"Ankle Biter," Michael read. "Perfect. Kai Sora needs a bodyguard. This kid is the bodyguard."

Minute 30.

Enzo intercepted a pass. He did not pass it sideways. He drove forward. He was not fast like Isaiah King but he was powerful. Players bounced off him.

He reached the edge of the box and smashed a shot. It went wide. Very wide. It nearly hit the corner flag.

"His shooting is terrible," Arthur noted. "He has a foot like a shovel."

"We do not pay him to shoot," Michael said. "We pay him to destroy."

After the match Michael and Arthur waited outside the players exit.

Enzo Silva walked out. He was carrying a gym bag that looked older than him. He looked grumpy even though his team had won.

"Enzo," Michael said stepping forward.

Enzo stopped. He looked at Michael. Then he looked at Arthur who was eating a custard tart.

"Who are you?" Enzo asked in broken English. "Tourists?"

"I am Michael Sterling," Michael said. "Manager of Barnsley."

Enzo frowned. "Barnsley? The team that beat Manchester United?"

"That is us."

Enzo dropped his bag.

"You have the bald monster," Enzo said. "Diego Nunez. I saw him on TikTok. He eats people."

"He does not eat people," Michael laughed. "Only steaks. We want you to play with him."

Enzo eyes narrowed. "Why? I am nobody. I play for Estoril. I get yellow cards."

"We like yellow cards," Michael said. "We need a fighter. Come have a coffee with us."

They sat at a small cafe overlooking the sea. Arthur ordered three more custard tarts.

"Listen Enzo," Michael said. "We are in Europe this year. We play in England. We need a squad of warriors."

"I am a warrior," Enzo said leaning forward. "My father was a fisherman. He fought the sea. I fight the midfielders."

"I saw your stats," Michael said. "You made one hundred tackles last season. That is the highest in Portugal."

"I like taking the ball," Enzo shrugged. "It is mine. Why should they have it?"

"Exactly," Michael said. "But there is a problem. Estoril want six million pounds for you. Sporting Lisbon are also interested."

Enzo looked down at his coffee.

"Sporting are a big club," Enzo admitted. "They play in the Champions League."

"Yes," Michael said. "But at Sporting you will be a squad player. You will sit on the bench. You will watch."

Michael leaned in. He used his Shark Smile.

"At Barnsley you will play. You will play next to Kai Sora. Do you know Kai?"

"The Architect," Enzo whispered. "He is magic."

"He is magic," Michael agreed. "But he is lazy. He hates running. He needs someone to run for him. He needs someone to win the ball and give it to him so he can make art."

Enzo nodded slowly. "I run for him. He makes magic. We win."

"Simple," Michael said.

"But Sporting offers more money," Enzo said. "My family... we need money."

Michael pulled a paper out of his jacket.

"This is our offer," Michael said.

Enzo looked at the paper.

WEEKLY WAGE: £25,000

SIGNING BONUS: £200,000

HOUSE ALLOWANCE: INCLUDED

It was good money. Life changing money for a kid from the second tier.

"Also," Michael added. "We have an Argentine steakhouse in Barnsley. Owned by the club. You eat for free."

Enzo looked at the paper. Then he looked at Arthur who was licking sugar off his fingers.

"You have good food?" Enzo asked Arthur.

" The best," Arthur promised. "And the fans... they will love you. They love players who fight."

Enzo stood up. He looked at the ocean one last time.

"Okay," Enzo said. "I come to Barnsley. I will be the Pitbull."

He extended his hand. Michael shook it. The boy had a grip like a vice.

"One condition," Enzo said.

"What?"

"I bring my dog. His name is Rocky. He is also a pitbull. He gets lonely."

"Bring the dog," Michael laughed. "Diego will love him."

The flight back was celebratory. Arthur slept with a smile on his face dreaming of pastries.

Michael looked at his laptop.

[TRANSFER AGREED]

[PLAYER: ENZO SILVA]

[FEE: £5.5 MILLION]

[ROLE: BALL WINNING MIDFIELDER]

The midfield was sorted. He had Kai the Artist. Kenji the Engine. And now Enzo the Destroyer.

But he needed one more thing.

Depth in attack.

Danny Fletcher had scored 18 goals. But if Danny got injured who would score?

Harry the academy kid was good but he was young.

Michael needed a veteran. Someone who had been there and done that. Someone who could come off the bench in the 80th minute and score a goal with his eyes closed.

He opened the scouting network again.

He filtered by AGE: 30+.

ATTRIBUTE: FINISHING.

STATUS: FREE AGENT.

The list populated.

There were some old names. Famous names who were now slow and expensive.

But one name caught his eye.

NAME: JAMIE VARDY

AGE: 39

STATUS: RELEASED

FITNESS: DECLINING

FINISHING: ELITE

Jamie Vardy. The legend. The man who drank Red Bull and scored goals for fun. He was almost forty. Most people thought he was retired.

But the System showed something else.

[HIDDEN ATTRIBUTE: THE LAST DANCE]

[EFFECT: FOR 20 MINUTES HE IS STILL WORLD CLASS]

Michael stared at the screen.

Jamie Vardy was from Sheffield. Just down the road from Barnsley. He was a Yorkshire boy.

"Arthur," Michael said nudging the sleeping scout.

Arthur woke up with a snort. "Did we crash?"

"No," Michael said. "Wake up. We have one more stop before we go home."

"Where?"

"Sheffield," Michael said. "We are going to see a legend."

"Vardy?" Arthur guessed rubbing his eyes. "Boss he is ancient. His knees surely creak like my front door."

"He scores goals Arthur," Michael said. "He knows the Premier League better than anyone. Imagine him teaching Danny Fletcher. Imagine him coming on against tired defenders."

"It would be a story," Arthur admitted. "The Misfits and the Old King."

"Exactly," Michael said.

The plane began its descent into Manchester.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.