Chapter 59: The road ahead

*** Join my Patreon for Advance Chapters ( about 30 or so) and my other 2 stories Link is Below. Remove space after http. https:// www.patreon.com/c/Virtuosso777?redirect=true Leave some comments, stones and review if you like it so far *** The team was playing well—really well, in fact. The equalizer against Manchester United had injected a fresh dose of confidence straight into the squad's veins. Training the next morning felt almost like a celebration. Passes were crisper, tackles sharper, and Falcao was strutting around the pitch like he'd just been handed a crown. Maicon was beaming too, still riding the high of his bullet header that stunned Old Trafford. Arthur stood on the sidelines, arms crossed, nodding in approval. For the first time in weeks, he felt like they were truly getting somewhere. The young lads were gelling, the veterans were stepping up, and the squad's morale bar—if such a thing existed—was practically glowing. But of course, nothing is ever perfect. Arthur's grin slowly faded as he checked his notes. Despite the impressive display, the players' stamina levels were beginning to drop. He could see it in the way some of them trudged off the pitch after training, hands on hips, sweat pouring off them like they'd just finished a marathon. The intensity of recent matches had taken its toll. Arthur scratched his head, muttering to himself, "We're not even a quarter into the season, and these guys are already running on fumes. Great. Just great." He pulled out his phone and swiped through some stats. The younger players were still developing their physical endurance—barely 22 or 23 years old, most of them. Raw talent? Yes. Stamina of a marathon runner? Not quite. Then there was the real kicker: Arthur's system, the magical little interface that had been handing him golden tickets in the form of tasks and rewards, had gone silent. For weeks now, not a single mission, not even a lousy side quest to collect five water bottles or something. It was like the system had gone on holiday and left him hanging. Arthur called it up in his mind, the familiar interface popping up with its sleek, futuristic design. He navigated to the "Tasks" tab. Nothing. Blank. Not even a hint. He jabbed the screen as if poking it harder would make something appear. "Come on, wake up! I need some goodies here!" Nothing. Arthur groaned. He had burned through all his old rewards ages ago. The talent redemption cards? Gone. Injury recovery cards? Used on Deisler after that nasty tackle a few weeks back. His entire stash of perks and boosts? Depleted. He was basically running on fumes, just like his players. He rubbed his temples. If things kept going like this, injuries were bound to happen. It wasn't just a matter of "if," it was "when." And Leeds United, with its ragtag bunch of young talents and gritty veterans, couldn't afford that. Not when the top-four race was on the line. And definitely not when Arthur had grand plans to flip these players for fat profits at the end of the season. He shuddered at the thought. His grand "black shop," as he'd nicknamed it—the master plan of flipping undervalued players for massive returns—depended on these guys staying fit and showcasing their best form. If they went down with injuries, not only would Leeds' season be at risk, but Arthur's entire empire-building scheme would come crashing down. The thought made him glance back at the system interface. "Alright, you lazy piece of code," he grumbled, "what's with the radio silence? No tasks for weeks? What are you on strike?" The screen flickered for a moment before the system's usual, emotionless response appeared: "Task distribution is randomly triggered." Arthur stared at the message, mouth agape. "Randomly triggered? What does that even mean? So, what... I'm just supposed to wait until you feel like giving me something to do? This is football, not bingo night!" The system, as usual, offered no reply. Arthur felt like he was talking to a brick wall. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Perfect. Just perfect. You're about as helpful as VAR on a good day." He paced back and forth, glancing back at the players running drills on the pitch. He couldn't just wait around, hoping the system threw him a bone. He needed a plan—a way to keep these guys fit and firing until the next mission, whenever the system decided to wake up from its nap. Arthur turned back to the field, hands on his hips. "Alright, boys," he shouted, clapping his hands. "Looks like we're doing this the old-fashioned way. If the system's gonna be lazy, we'll just work harder. Now who's ready for some stamina drills?" The players groaned collectively, and Arthur grinned. "Hey, blame the system, not me!" Deep down, though, Arthur knew he was racing against the clock. If that next mission didn't drop soon, Leeds United's dream run could turn into a nightmare real fast. Arthur sat in his office with a steaming cup of coffee, staring at the system panel on his laptop. His eyes squinted at the screen, like he was trying to decipher some ancient scroll. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Nope, it was still there. Franck Ribery's attributes had somehow been supercharged. [Franck Ribery] (Triggering Temporary Event) [Age]: 22 [Offensive Threat]: 83 (+5) [Defensive Strength]: 33 (+5) [Body Balance]: 78 (+5) [Long Pass Accuracy]: 80 (+5) [Short Pass Accuracy]: 82 (+5) [Shooting Accuracy]: 83 (+5) [Speed/Maximum Speed]: 86/90 (+5) [Player Evaluation]: B+ [Comprehensive Assessment]: An offensive midfielder with an extremely comprehensive playing style, delicate skills, fast speed, strong dribbling ability, and good at cutting inside! And then, the kicker: [Temporary Event]: Due to a poor performance that led to conceding a goal, combined with key encouragement from the host (that's you, genius), the player's condition and confidence were restored, triggering a reward. [Reward Content]: 1. Extremely hot game state. 2. All attributes +5. Duration: 14 days! Arthur leaned back in his chair, mouth slightly open. He blinked a few times just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. "Temporary Event?" he muttered. "When the hell did that become a thing?" He rubbed his chin, scrolling back through the system logs. Nothing. Not a whisper, not a hint of an update. It just popped up out of nowhere. "Did I miss a patch note or something?" he wondered aloud. He thought back to the conversation with Ferguson after the match. Ferguson had actually looked... impressed. Well, impressed and mildly annoyed, which for Ferguson was practically a standing ovation. "Even I didn't expect you to keep Ribery on," Ferguson had said, shaking his head. Arthur had laughed it off at the time, chalking it up to sheer stubbornness. But now it made sense. He looked back at the system screen, the glowing attributes practically beaming at him. "So you're telling me," Arthur said to no one in particular, "if I back my players when they're down, I get... bonuses?" He stared at the screen like it had just revealed the secrets of the universe. "Well, I'll be damned." Suddenly, it all clicked. Last season in the Championship, matches were routine. One game a week, minimal stress. His squad glided through the fixtures like a well-oiled machine. Sure, the league wasn't a cakewalk, but the pressure wasn't suffocating either. The talent redemption cards had done wonders, turning his lineup into something straight out of a football fan's wildest dreams. Opponents fell like dominoes. Life was simple. Life was good. But this season? Oh, the Premier League was a different beast. Matches were relentless. The opponents were stronger, faster, and twice as ruthless. Every game felt like a war, and the intensity was through the roof. Add to that the media circus, the expectations, and the endless scrutiny, and it was like trying to juggle flaming swords while riding a unicycle. He remembered the look on Ribery's face when he kept him on the pitch—confused but grateful. Arthur had stood firm, backing him when most managers would've yanked him off faster than you could say "substitution." And now, it was paying off in spades. "So... confidence and mental state affect attributes?" Arthur mused, tapping his fingers on the desk. He recalled the great managers he'd read about—Ferguson, Mourinho, Klopp. All of them had this ability to instill belief in their players, to make them feel like they could take on the world and win. It wasn't just tactics or formations; it was the magic of man-management. Maybe this was what the system was nudging him towards. Arthur leaned back and smirked. "I guess I've been playing this game with just half the playbook," he said, stretching his arms behind his head. "Mentality, belief... all that fluffy inspirational stuff? Turns out it's worth five attribute points each." He stood up, feeling more energized than he had in weeks. If this was how things worked, he was going to milk it for all it was worth. Every struggling player? He'd back them. Every bad game? He'd turn it into a redemption arc. If a pat on the back and a bit of faith could boost stats, then by God, he was going to be the most supportive manager in the league. Arthur chuckled, already running through his squad in his head. "Alright, Ribery. You're my guinea pig. Let's see how far this hot streak can take us." He cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading across his face. If his belief in players could spark events like this, then maybe, just maybe, Leeds United had a lot more surprises left in store. Arthur leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out and taking a long sip of his coffee. His mind drifted back to yesterday's match against Ferguson's Manchester United. That stubborn Scotsman, for all his gruffness, had this remarkable ability to turn ragtag kids into seasoned warriors. Ferguson didn't just teach them how to kick a ball—he hammered resilience and grit into their skulls. The old man wasn't just a manager; he was a master of psychology. He could make you feel like you could conquer the world with just a pat on the back—or crush you with a single glare. Young players thrived under his watch because he did something so simple yet so rare: he believed in them. He gave them time, space, and confidence to grow, even when they were still green. He didn't just demand their best; he expected it, and somehow, they always delivered. Arthur chuckled, remembering Beckham's words after leaving United. "My relationship with the coach has always been special. Of course, we've had some disputes, but I still love him." For a guy who once got a boot kicked at his head, that was saying something. Ferguson's iron grip on the squad wasn't just about barking orders. Off the pitch, he had this uncanny knack for connecting with the players. Strict during training, relentless on match days, but somehow always human when it mattered. He knew when to crack a joke and when to unleash fury. That balance was why United's dressing room was always airtight—no leaks, no grudges. It was like a fortress, and Ferguson was the watchful guard at the gate. Arthur exhaled and set his cup down. "Maybe that's the trick," he murmured to himself. He'd been so locked into the system's rewards and stats that he forgot one of football's biggest cheat codes: belief. Ferguson didn't have a magical system boosting his players' stats. He just knew how to make them feel like gods on the pitch. Arthur leaned forward, opening the system panel again. His eyes flicked across the stats, now freshly obsessed with triggering those "Temporary Events." Ribery's transformation after just a bit of encouragement was proof that there was a whole layer to this thing he hadn't explored. He'd been stuck waiting for tasks and rewards to just appear like magic, but maybe... maybe he could make it happen himself. The idea was so simple it almost made him laugh. "I've been babysitting this system like it's some lottery ticket," he snorted, shaking his head. "But it's more like a bloody chemistry set. Mix the right ingredients, and boom—you get fireworks." He grinned, closing Ribery's panel. His mind raced through the squad list, thinking of the players who could use a bit of a confidence boost. Leeds United was packed with young talent, most of them barely a few years younger than him. It wouldn't be hard to get close to them, to hype them up when things got tough. After all, the dressing room was more like a college dorm than a professional club sometimes. Banter flew around like stray bullets, and Arthur knew how to fire back with the best of them. Arthur leaned back and stretched, feeling more energized than he had in weeks. He cracked his knuckles, eyes glimmering with that hint of mischief. "Right," he muttered, "if this is how it works, then I'm about to make Leeds United the most mentally overpowered squad in the league." His fingers danced across the keyboard as he pulled up Tevez's information. There was something oddly satisfying about clicking that search button. Tevez's grinning face popped up on the screen, along with his career stats and a few less-than-flattering headlines from the past 24 hours. Arthur rubbed his hands together, his grin stretching wider. "Oh, this is going to be good," he chuckled to himself. He knew Tevez was probably still recovering from that brainless back pass yesterday. The poor guy had been hounded by the press, roasted by the fans, and likely chewed out by Ferguson in a rant that could've powered a small village. "I wonder what his panel looks like right now," Arthur mused, almost giddy with curiosity. Was there some kind of temporary event triggered by public humiliation? Maybe a 'Moment of Clarity' or a 'Desperate Redemption' buff? He could almost picture it: [Carlos Tevez] (Triggering Temporary Event) [Event]: Public Ridicule and Self-Reflection [Effect]: +10 Determination, +5 Long Pass Accuracy (because he clearly needs it), Duration: 7 Days Arthur laughed out loud at his own thought. "If only," he sighed, still smirking. He bookmarked Tevez's page for later. Maybe he'd get a glimpse of it after the next match. Arthur leaned back, his eyes twinkling with fresh enthusiasm. For the first time, he realized that the system wasn't just about stat boosts and rewards. It was a mirror to the real-world dynamics of football—belief, confidence, and pure unfiltered banter. If he could harness that...well, Leeds United was going to be a force that even Ferguson would have to respect. And with that, Arthur's mind was set. He was going to bring out the best in his players, not just with training but with pure, unfiltered confidence. Just like Ferguson did—but with his own twist, of course.