My Football Legends Chat Group-Chapter 51: Force a Transfer War

"Hmm, I could have sworn that Summerville was watching the screen just now." Manager Farke commented, his eyes narrowed at the tactical board.

"A-Ah, sorry Boss! I’m watching!" Crysencio Summerville quickly sat up straight, wiping a bit of drool from his lip, feeling embarrassed.

However, he quickly composed himself, flashing a cheeky grin.

"I was just visualizing the next goal, Boss. I’m Crysencio Summerville. I like dancing and scoring bangers. Oh, and my top speed is 36 km/h!" A big smile crawled onto his face and he gave a thumbs up, causing the video analysis room to fall silent.

The silence was broken moments later by muffled laughter throughout the darkened room.

"Okay, okay, very interesting, Cry." Farke tried his best to hold his amusement, choosing to continue down his list of clips.

"Rio Lance."

Rio, who suddenly heard his name, stood up, showcasing his slightly broader shoulders—a result of the gym work—and causing a few whispers around the back row.

"He looks taller."

"Wow, he’s actually built now."

"I’m Rio Lance. My goal is to win the Championship and play in the Champions League one day. My position is... the game changer."

Rio’s words were confident and concise, displaying his determination to everyone. While the rest of the squad had already moved on to checking their phones under the table, there was one person with a shocked expression on his face.

’Game changer!?’ Archie Gray was dumbstruck. When he had played alongside Rio, the Spaniard had been stuck on the touchline, terrified of cutting inside until the last game.

’If he calls himself a game changer, does that mean he thinks he’s better than Piroe?’ Archie thought, scratching his chin in contemplation.

Rio paid attention to the rest of the tactical briefing, wanting to know if Farke had changed the pressing triggers since the Millwall game. Thankfully, the left-back rotation was the only thing that had any significant change this time around.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about playing with a defensive fullback, but it’s not like he could talk to Farke and convince him to clone Firpo.

"Excellent, now that we’ve got the praise out of the way... It’s time for a Pop Quiz on defensive transitions." Farke said, a smile forming on his face.

The entire squad let out a colloquial groan in response, not expecting such a thing on a recovery day. The Manager’s expression darkened, clearly not happy with such a reaction.

"Oho, unsatisfied are we?"

The players were perplexed by the sudden change of tone. The once pleasant and "vibes-based" nature of Farke’s voice was now gone, replaced by an icy German efficiency. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Rio massaged his temples, feeling a headache starting to appear. This was the other side of his manager, hidden by his usually calm and philosophical demeanor.

"Well, I’m also unsatisfied with only one quiz. Let’s also throw in a video analysis of every misplaced pass from Saturday while we’re at it." He said, a small, sadistic smile crawling onto his face.

This time, no one made a sound. They were too busy rubbing their eyes or pinching themselves to confirm that this situation was real.

’He’s a devil...’

No one dared to voice these words out loud, however, everyone seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"No complaints? Very good." He clicked the remote and pulled up a playlist of sixty-four clips, packed with errors before pointing at players one by one.

The only person in the room who didn’t look crestfallen was Rio. Since he had the High Football IQ from the legends in his head, he was able to mentally prepare for the scenario in advance.

[Chat Room Active]

Hand_Of_King: Look at the Manager! He is enjoying the torture. I like him. A true leader must be feared.

Total_Football_14: The clip at 04:20... the spacing is terrible. You must explain it to them, Rio.

Zizou_5: Don’t speak. Just nod. If you speak, you run.

An hour later, both the quiz and the video analysis were completed. Everyone who had thought they would be having a relaxing recovery session was thoroughly proved wrong.

Thankfully, none of the other coaches were as sadistic as Farke who would dare spring a tactical exam on a Tuesday morning. By the time the lunch bell rang—signaling the opening of the canteen—Rio’s stomach was already growling in protest.

Not even waiting for the manager to leave the room, Rio pulled out his chair and began to speed-walk towards the smell of pasta. After the "Body Transformation Protocol" mission started, he had upped his training regime, and in turn, he had to increase his caloric intake to compensate.

Since the club provided free food, Rio didn’t feel so bad loading his plate with a mountain of carbohydrates.

Archie Gray looked at the deep plate filled with pasta, chicken, and broccoli and felt his stomach stiffen.

"So much food! What the fuck, Rio?" he exclaimed.

"I need it for energy," Rio responded nonchalantly.

’How much energy does he need...’ Archie thought inwardly, pulling out his own plate with a sensible portion of salmon and rice. He wasn’t much of a big eater, possibly because his frame was still filling out compared to Rio’s sudden growth.

"Are you staying for extra shooting practice after lunch?" Archie asked, helping himself to his own food.

"Yeah, the free-kick mannequins won’t be used until later this week. It’s the perfect time to practice the knuckleball." Rio said simply.

Speaking about shooting, Archie suddenly remembered Rio’s goal and almost choked on his food.

"Hey, what’s this about you scoring a rabona? Weren’t you strictly right-footed against Cardiff?" He asked curiously.

A grin formed on Rio’s face as he heard this question. "I’ve been ambidextrous since the academy days; I just hid it to surprise them."

"Huh?" Archie was confused. Firstly, who just hides a talent like that? Wouldn’t he get benched if he didn’t show his skills for a whole month?

’Wait. If he’s been two-footed his whole career, then how did he miss that sitter against Birmingham?’

Seeing the weird look on Archie’s face, Rio decided to blend the truth with a lie since they would likely become the midfield engine in the future. He already knew that Archie had the potential to become a club legend, so it was worth building up some mystique.

"I actually had a minor ankle issue on my left side when I arrived. I took a few weeks off using it in order for it to heal properly. It should be fine for me to start taking set-pieces with it starting tomorrow." Rio said with a smile.

"Oh. That must have been tough. I guess it makes sense why you kept cutting back onto your right then." Archie nodded, feeling as if he understood Rio a bit more.

"But wait, why tomorrow? Won’t Piroe be taking the free kicks?"

Rio shook his head, swallowing a massive piece of chicken. "I’ll be taking them with my left foot until they realize my right is just as deadly."

"HUH!?"

Archie stood up quickly, almost knocking his orange juice over, his jaw slack in disbelief.

"You’re going to bench Piroe from free-kicks... with your weak foot?"

"It’s not weak anymore," Rio winked. "It’s S-Grade."

"S-Grade? What does that even mean?" Archie asked, sitting back down slowly.

"It means," Rio leaned in, lowering his voice, "that Juninho would be jealous."

Archie looked at the diagram Rio drew on a napkin with sauce. The physics seemed impossible.

"You’re crazy," Archie laughed, shaking his head. "But if you score one, I’ll clean your boots for a month."

"Deal," Rio grinned.

Just then, Mateo walked into the canteen, dragging his suitcase. He looked exhausted from the flight, but his eyes lit up when he saw the mountain of food.

"Rio! Save some for me!" Mateo shouted.

"Too late, traitor," Rio laughed, shielding his plate. "This is fuel for the Ferrari. You go eat some Rolls Royce fuel."

Mateo sat down, stealing a piece of broccoli. "Shut up. Did you tell him?"

"Tell him what?" Archie asked, looking between them.

"That United want him too," Mateo blurted out, grinning mischievously.

Rio froze. He kicked Mateo under the table.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"United?" Archie’s eyes went wide again. "You’re leaving too?"

"No," Rio said firmly, glaring at Mateo. "I’m staying. I have a Championship to win. And a manager to torture."

Archie relaxed, taking a bite of his salmon. "Good. Because if you left, I’d have to listen to Bamford’s podcasts alone."

Rio laughed, but deep down, the thought lingered. United wanted him?

DING

[System Notification]

[Rumor Detected: The Red Devils are Watching]

[New Objective: Force a Transfer War]