The training session ended with the players drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, but with a completely different energy than when they had started.
The initial skepticism had been replaced by a buzz of conversation.
They weren't just talking about the intensity of the drill; they were talking about Emre Demir's moment of magic.
The kid had earned their respect, and by extension, so had the young manager who had put him in a position to shine.
Ethan watched them head towards the dressing rooms, a deep, satisfying warmth spreading through his chest. He had done it. He had taken the first, most difficult step. He wasn't just some kid with a lucky prize anymore; he was their coach.
Back in the quiet sanctuary of his office, the adrenaline began to fade, replaced by a daunting question that echoed in the silent room. He sank into his leather chair, staring at the glowing main screen.
"Okay," he murmured to himself, running a hand through his hair.
"That was a good start. A really good start. So… now what?"
He had a squad. He had a philosophy. But a team isn't forged in a single training session.
They needed a real test, a proper match, a challenge to unite them. How did he even make that happen?
As if reading his mind, a notification popped up on his screen with a soft, pleasant chime. It was a message from the system, presented like an official club directive.
[New Manager Objectives Issued]
Curious, Ethan tapped the notification. A clean, simple checklist appeared.
SEASON KICK-OFF CHECKLIST:
1. Arrange 2x Pre-Season Friendlies.
2. Review Club Finances.
He let out a sigh of relief. The game wouldn't just throw him into the deep end without a paddle.
It was guiding him, giving him the structure he needed. He decided to tackle the less exciting task first. He clicked on [Review Club Finances].
A new window opened, displaying the Apex United bank account. His eyes widened slightly at the number.
Total Budget: £1,000,000
One million pounds. To a normal person, it was a fortune. In the world of professional football, it was practically nothing. It was enough to cover basic operating costs, player wages for a while, and maybe—maybe—a single, modest transfer for a lower-league player.
It meant every single penny had to be spent wisely. There was no room for error.
This wasn't a "rich super-club" simulation; this was a struggle from the ground up. He felt a new wave of pressure settle on his shoulders.
"Okay, Couch," he said to himself. "No mistakes."
He closed the finance window and moved on to the more thrilling objective: the friendlies. He navigated to the "Fixtures & Scheduling" tab.
A calendar appeared, along with a long list of other clubs who were also looking for pre-season opponents.
The list was filterable by league, reputation, and the fee required to host them.
He needed a two-stage test. First, a warm-up.
A match they should win, to build confidence and allow him to test out his attacking patterns. He scrolled through the list of League Two and National League teams.
Bradford City caught his eye. A solid, well-known lower-league club. It would be a proper football match, not a walkover.
He clicked on their name.
[Arrange Friendly vs. Bradford City?]
[Stadium & Staffing Fee: £50,000]
Fifty thousand pounds. Five percent of his entire budget for one friendly match.
It was a steep price, but a necessary one.
He gritted his teeth and hit [CONFIRM].
The fixture immediately appeared on his calendar for the very next day.
"Tomorrow?" he blinked. The game wasn't messing around.
Next, he needed a real challenge. A team that would test his defense, force his players to be at their absolute best.
He adjusted the filter to "Championship" teams—the league directly above his.
The fees jumped significantly. He scrolled past several names before one stood out: Ipswich Town. They were a strong, well-organized side, known for their disciplined football. They would be the perfect measuring stick.
He selected them.
[Arrange Friendly vs. Ipswich Town?]
[Stadium & Staffing Fee: £100,000]
One hundred thousand pounds. Ten percent of his budget. Combined with the first friendly, he was spending fifteen percent of his entire club's capital on two practice matches. It felt both reckless and absolutely essential. This was an investment in his team's readiness.
He took a deep breath and hit [CONFIRM]. The match was scheduled for three days from now.
His checklist updated. Both objectives were now marked with a satisfying green checkmark.
He leaned back in his chair, a mixture of excitement and anxiety churning in his stomach.
He had spent £150,000 of money that wasn't technically real but felt incredibly important, and he had committed his brand-new team to a match in less than 24 hours.
Now, he had to tell the players.
He sent a message to the squad's group chat—a feature he had just discovered—calling for a brief team meeting in the dressing room.
When he arrived, the atmosphere was relaxed. The players were laughing, joking about the intense training session, and replaying Emre's ridiculous pass.
"Alright, settle down for a minute, lads," Ethan said, stepping into the center of the room.
The chatter died down as all eyes turned to him.
"First off, great work today," he began.
"The intensity was exactly what I wanted to see. That's our standard now. We build from there."
He saw a few proud nods.
"But training is one thing. The real test comes on the pitch," he continued. "So I've arranged our first pre-season friendlies. A chance for us to put our principles into practice."
A murmur of approval went through the room.
"Our first match," Ethan said, pausing for effect, "is against Bradford City."
More nods. A respectable start.
"And it's tomorrow."
The room went silent. Every player stared at him, their eyes wide.
Tomorrow? They had one training session under their belts.
Gabriel Sara was the first to speak, a look of disbelief on his face.
"Tomorrow? Coach, we've barely learned each other's names."
"I know," Ethan said calmly.
"And there's no better way to learn than by fighting side-by-side. I don't expect perfection. I expect effort. I expect you to try and implement what we started today. I want to see you press. I want to see you fight for each other. The result is secondary. The performance is everything."
He looked around the room, meeting their gazes. He saw their shock turning into something else: determination.
A challenge had been laid down, and these men were competitors.
"Go home. Get some rest. Study the tactical notes I'm sending to your tablets. Eat well, sleep well, and be here tomorrow morning ready to play the first-ever match in the history of Apex United."
He turned and walked out, leaving them to process the news.
Back in his office, he stared at the virtual tactics board on his main screen. It was a blank pitch, with the names of his players listed on the side.
Apex United vs. Bradford City
His heart was pounding with a nervous rhythm. His first-ever team selection. His first-ever match. It was all happening faster than he could have ever imagined.
With a trembling but determined hand, he reached out and began to drag the name of his starting goalkeeper into position.