*** This is a translated work that was barely readable but funny af. The context was kinda similar to something I started writing on my own. So I thought, meh, why work extra hard when original stories get ignored , I'll just use other's work shamelessly and combine it with my work xD This will be uploaded in my Patreon after this month along with my other fics. I just posted this as a sneak preview. Name of the Original story and author 足球:重生04,我打造足坛黑店 By 蒙大炮 But beware, This version is way too different and far better than the translation. If you get aneurism trying to read it , I'm not liable xD *** Join my Patreon for more than 20 Advance Chapters and my other stories for only 7$ Link is Below. Remove space after http. https:// www.patreon.com/c/Virtuosso777?redirect=true **** Why is it so hot? Wasn't it like... December yesterday? That was the first thought that hit Arthur like a hangover-fueled freight train as he stirred awake. His eyes flickered open. White ceilings. Wide glass windows. A spacious, almost sterile-looking office environment. And was that a fax machine in the corner? "Yeah... this ain't my room," Arthur muttered, propping himself up on his elbows. "Did I get kidnapped or isekai'd?" A pause. "Honestly, I'm kinda okay with either option." He sat up and glanced around with growing curiosity. The polished floors. The neatly stacked files. The air that smelled like money and air conditioning. Not exactly a dungeon or fantasy forest. This wasn't the kind of isekai you got swords or slime powers in. Arthur rubbed his temples. His head throbbed like a bad techno beat. But that wasn't the weirdest part. The weirdest part was the memories. Not his own, but someone else's. Memories of Leeds United, of board meetings, football matches, and a father with a terrifying fondness for betting the family fortune on a mid-table football club. It took a moment. But the truth sank in fast and hard. He'd been isekai'd into the body of a rich British guy in 2004. A moment of stunned silence followed. "Okay... definitely not kidnapped," he said slowly, patting down his limbs just in case. "Definitely isekai'd. And I've officially turned into one of those guys on Reddit." Let's rewind a bit. Arthur—formerly a die-hard football fan and part-time alcoholic back in his original life—had spent the previous night watching the Spain vs. Italy World Cup Qualifier. He'd yelled at the TV. He'd cursed like a sailor. And in a fit of football-induced fury, he'd cracked open two more bottles of something suspiciously strong. The next thing he knew, bam. New body. New life. New era. Welcome to July 2004. Leeds, England. And the body he now occupied? A 23-year-old trust fund brat, previously living the high life thanks to a wealthy father who'd made a fortune from real estate, stocks, and apparently very poor decisions in football club ownership. The good news? He was loaded. Or, well... had been. The bad news? His dad was dead. And he'd left Arthur in charge of an absolute dumpster fire—aka, Leeds United. Apparently, Daddy Dearest had been a massive football fan himself. He was so inspired by Leeds United's late '90s success that he decided to buy a big chunk of the club. He became the second-largest shareholder—just in time for the entire thing to collapse like a wet paper towel in a hurricane. The previous owner, Peter Ridsdale, had gone full Football Manager mode back in the 2001-2002 season. Brought in big names. Made big promises. Threw money around like confetti at a wedding. All based on the assumption that Leeds would qualify for the Champions League and pay off their debts with the prize money. Spoiler alert: they didn't. They finished fourth. And back in those days, that meant no Champions League. No financial salvation. Just debt. Lots and lots of debt. Like, 80 million euros' worth of it. And with Ridsdale's version of financial planning—aka "let's just put it on the club's credit card"—Leeds began imploding faster than a house of cards in a wind tunnel. Naturally, the board panicked. Ridsdale got the boot. And in his infinite wisdom, Arthur's dad swooped in like a white knight to save the club. Except he didn't have a white horse. He had a giant red ledger. One year later, Leeds was relegated to the Championship. The money was gone. The big names were being sold faster than discounted hotcakes. Even the stadium, Elland Road, was up for sale. Arthur sat back in the chair, letting it all sink in. "So let me get this straight," he said out loud, staring at the ceiling. "I wake up in 2004. I'm in Leeds. I'm a rich British dude. But I'm also the new owner of a bankrupt football club that just got relegated and is about to start selling off furniture?" He blinked. "Huh. Neat." To make things worse—or more entertaining, depending on your perspective—the football world was about to explode. Chelsea had already been bought by Roman Abramovich, the Russian oil tycoon who had enough money to casually buy a country if he felt like it. This summer, Chelsea would go absolutely ballistic in the transfer window. Drogba. Robben. Carvalho. You name it. Manchester United was still Manchester United—young Cristiano Ronaldo was starting to flex those golden calves, and Wayne Rooney was about to bulldoze his way into Old Trafford. And then there was Arsenal. Undefeated last season. The Invincibles. THE FREAKING INVINCIBLES. Arthur groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Great. Just great. I'm managing a flaming wreckage while everyone else is upgrading to fighter jets." But all hope wasn't lost. No, sir. Because unlike the previous owner—or his dearly departed dad—Arthur knew what was coming. He had the cheat codes. The mental Wikipedia of the future. He remembered who flopped, who rose, which youth prospects were hidden gems, and when oil money would strike . With the right moves, maybe—just maybe—he could keep Leeds from becoming a punchline for the next 16 years. First step? Stabilize the club. Cut the bloat. Sell the deadweight. But also—spot the gems. There were youngsters in the academy. Players other clubs didn't rate yet. Diamonds in the rough. If he could just hold on to a few of them, maybe there's some profit opportunities. Arthur started calculating the pros and cons. If I decide to sell Leeds United, he thought, then the home stadium will be sold, and old man Bates, who's got a terrible reputation, will end up taking over the club. And in that case, Arthur could already imagine being drowned in a sea of abuse from the club's die-hard fans. The kind that holds grudges longer than the Queen's reign. Worse yet, with Leeds United buried under heavy debt, the shares he held wouldn't even fetch much money. On the other hand, if I don't sell... He sighed. The amount of money left by his father, according to the memories of the body's original owner, wouldn't be enough to stop the downward spiral. Forget returning to the Premier League next season—just staying in the Championship would be a miracle. At this rate, Leeds would follow history and drop straight into League One. And that wasn't all. Arthur knew that before his father died, Ken Bates had already formally proposed to buy Leeds United. Now that his father was gone, Bates would definitely return to try and snap it up at a dirt-cheap price. If Arthur lost his shares, he'd be left with nothing. No club, no money—just an empty office and a mountain of regret. Just when Arthur's mind was spiraling deeper into worry, a strange voice echoed in his head. [Ding! Congratulations to the host for activating the Strongest Club System!] He froze. "The system is binding..." Arthur's eyes lit up. "Sure enough," he grinned, "every isekai protagonist gets a golden finger!" [Ding! Detected that the host is binding the system for the first time. The novice gift package skills have been issued. Please check!] [Ding! Congratulations on obtaining the skill: Super Scout!] [Ding! Congratulations on obtaining the novice reward: Peak Buffon Template Experience Card (4 months)] Arthur, just like the protagonists of the novels he read in his previous life, began to focus and call the system silently in his mind. Sure enough, the next second, a translucent system panel appeared in front of him. [Host]: Arthur Morgan [Club owned]: Leeds United [Economic status]: Serious debt (80 million euros) [Available funds]: 20 million euros [Fixed skills]: Super Scout (you can freely view the detailed attributes of any player) [Skill package]: Peak Buffon template experience card (four months, applicable to any player) [Ding! The task system has been opened.] [Ding! Task trigger: A successful start!] [Task content: The current Leeds United team is in dire straits. Please complete the team's reconstruction as soon as possible and win the first round of the league.] [Task reward: Gold treasure chest x1] Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Oh my, it's quite detailed..." As he muttered to himself, his eyes subconsciously shifted to one of the football star posters on the wall. The system panel immediately refreshed. Sample preview: [Ronaldinho] [Age]: 24 [Offensive threat]: 96 [Defensive strength]: 43 [Body balance]: 76 [Long pass accuracy]: 93 [Short pass accuracy]: 99 [Shooting accuracy]: 90 [Dribbling accuracy]: 97 [Shooting skills]: 97 [Speed/fastest speed]: 80/91 [Awareness]: 97 [Leadership awareness]: 93 [Injury tolerance]: C [Talent]: S+ [Current game status]: Hot [Transfer value]: 50 million euros [Remaining peak period]: 3 years [Contract period remaining]: 4 years [Potential]: No potential has been developed at present [Player evaluation]: The top player in this position in the current world football. But his private life is chaotic, he is lustful, alcoholic, and takes illegal drugs, and he can affect the game at any time because of off-field matters. [Overall Assessment]: S+ Seeing such a detailed player panel, Li Shiguang finally understood the role of the system and skills. "So, I can grasp the information of all players at any time? Then can't I do something during the transfer window?" Arthur reacted quickly. After all, he wasn't just some random guy who woke up in a new body. He was a time traveler, a transmigrated MC, and now, a newly minted football club owner—armed with a system. And not just any system—the Strongest Club System. The dream of every isekai fanboy and football nerd combined. He didn't panic. No, Arthur was already putting the pieces together. I can now grasp the detailed attributes of any player... just by looking at their photo. That alone was enough to make him feel like a walking Football Manager database. But that wasn't all. He also had the Buffon template—a four-month experience card that could turn any goalkeeper into a clone of peak Gianluigi Buffon. Combine the two, and he had a golden business model on his hands. Find low-priced players. Boost them with the Buffon buff. Sell them for big profits in the next transfer window. It was so simple, it was brilliant. Of course, some might call it ruthless—buying undervalued players, boosting their stats temporarily, and selling them before the Buffon juice wore off. And sure, the clubs buying from him might regret their decisions down the line. But Arthur shrugged. "This isn't cold-blooded," he muttered to himself. "It's not a scam either." Because in the end, football wasn't just a game—it was a business. A high-stakes casino. And scouting? That was just gambling with spreadsheets. Every club placed bets on the future of young talents, hoping they'd become the next Messi instead of the next Where-are-they-now. Arthur wasn't doing anything wrong. He was just better at gambling than everyone else. Besides, he thought, I'll throw in a few solid players from time to time to keep my reputation clean. Can't have the market drying up because people feel swindled. That way, he'd still be respected in the industry. He'd solve the club's financial mess, climb out of debt, and maybe even build a squad with long-term potential. All without spending a fortune. As for the coach panel that the system mentioned as part of the task reward, it hadn't opened yet. He was curious whether it would be the same as the player panel—if so, he could scout coaching staff as well. That would be a game-changer. Thinking about all this, Arthur's expression shifted. A glint of sharp calculation flickered in his eyes. The look of a businessman. A cunning, football-savvy profiteer. Without wasting any time, he left the translucent system panel floating and walked over to the desk. A thick stack of player reports was waiting for him—leftovers from the previous owner of the body, who apparently took club matters seriously. He flipped through the files quickly, sorting by position. When he got to the ones labeled "goalkeeper," his fingers stopped. There it was. [Timothy Matthew Howard] Arthur tapped the report and smiled. Tim Howard. The American goalkeeper had just joined Manchester United last year, but Arthur knew exactly how things would unfold. With his nerves and tendency to make low-level errors, Howard was already under scrutiny. Sir Alex Ferguson had started rotating him with Roy Carroll in the second half of the season. And in just a year's time, United would bring in Edwin van der Sar, which would spell the end of Howard's time at Old Trafford. He'd be offloaded, demoted, or both. But for Arthur, Howard was perfect. Why? Because thanks to the Buffon experience card, Arthur could temporarily patch up all of Howard's flaws. For four whole months, he'd have a world-class wall between the sticks. And the best part? Three million euros. That's all it would take to sign him, according to the system. It was practically robbery. Arthur grinned and whispered to himself, "It's you." Then he reached over to the landline phone on the desk—an old beige thing that looked like it had survived three recessions—and dialed the number of the only assistant left in the club. The guy had survived the financial purge. Hopefully, he was competent. The phone rang twice before a tired voice answered. "Hello, this is Paul..." "Paul, it's Arthur." "Ah—Mr. Morgan! Good morning, sir. Anything urgent?" "Yes. Pack your bags. You're coming with me to Manchester tomorrow." A pause. "Manchester?" "Yes. And while you're at it, get in touch with the agent of Manchester United's goalkeeper—Tim Howard. Tell him Leeds United is interested." "Understood, sir. I'll make the call right away." Arthur hung up and leaned back in his chair, satisfied. One move was already in motion. The Buffon card could make Howard a monster for the next four months—enough time to stabilize Leeds United's defense, win a few key matches, and possibly flip him for profit before the winter transfer window. It was risky. It was cunning. But it was exactly the kind of move that only someone with insider knowledge of football's future could pull off. And Arthur? He wasn't just playing the game. He was playing the system.