Michael watched as the Manchester City manager walked off into the tunnel, letting a wicked smile creep onto the corner of his lips.
He enjoyed seeing the expressions of his opposition, especially when he did sothing that was tactically unexpected or downright fucking chaotic. In his previous life as a lower-league scrub, Pep Guardiola was known for his brilliant poker face, rarely showing much emotion unless his team scored.
However, since Michael had arrived in the Premier League, he had seen more expressions of sheer panic from the Spaniard in this past month than he had in the almost 2 years he studied him beforehand.
Of course, there was an expression that he didn’t want to see again...
Just rembering the look of sorrow on his own goalkeeper’s face after they were relegated in the winter of his second managerial year was enough to turn his mood sour.
Michael shook his head, pushing the mory away. Thankfully, history would not repeat itself. Not with the Dynasty System.
"Ti to go drill the defense."
Since the post-match conversation with the press hadn’t lasted long, the players were still making their way to the training ground locker room to go get changed. Michael’s eyes surveyed the tired troops, looking for a certain bald maniac.
His eyes narrowed as he caught a giant figure crouching within the crowd of academy kids, trying to go by unnoticed towards the canteen.
"You think you can escape from ?" Michael almost laughed aloud, seeing the stealthy actions of Diego Nunez.
He moved towards the group and plucked out the chaotic defender who had been trying to escape to eat a pepperoni pizza.
"O-Oh hi Boss. I was just looking for you." He said, although his guilty facial expression did not match his words.
"Mhmm sure you were. It’s ti to start your new tactical discipline regi."
Unbeknownst to Michael, a wicked grin ford on his face, scaring the already anxious giant in his expensive suit.
Diego felt warm tears fall down his face for the second ti that day, however unfortunately for him it wouldn’t be the last ti today.
Michael arrived ho a couple of hours later, feeling so tightness in his upper body. He had never waved his arms around the technical area that many tis consecutively, which ant his shoulders would be feeling it for the first few days.
Thankfully, due to his passive fatigue managent skill from the System, there wouldn’t be too many issues recovering from the strenuous touchline activity.
"I’m ho."
"Welco ho Michael."
Michael breathed out a sigh of relief. Sarah was back to her old cheerful self, despite this morning’s antics with the fashion reporters at the hotel.
Since he had stayed late at the training ground this afternoon to torture Diego, he texted his friend’s wife of the new arrangent so she wouldn’t worry about dinner in the future.
"That’s fine. Just go have a shower quickly so we can eat so food." Sarah said, waving her hand and shooing her slly manager away from the kitchen table.
Michael obliged, heading straight for the bathroom. He would need to start taking stronger deodorant with him to high-press practices, since even he had trouble slling his own stress sweat.
’I hope he got to the changing room alright.’
As Michael got under the hot shower, his thoughts moved to Diego who had completed the defensive discipline plan under his watchful eye. He had needed to bark out offside trap orders while holding a heavy tactical board at the sa ti.
Now that he thought about it, he probably looked pretty fucking intimidating swinging a clipboard with all of his strength and bossing the poor South Arican around the pitch.
Rembering the sight of his star defender almost passed out on the grass after the training, a smile couldn’t help but form on his face. As long as he kept up with it, he could see that Diego would have tangible improvents in his positional awareness by the end of the 3-week tactical regi.
’Maybe I can try use the System’s Training Plan function on Kaito?’ Michael mused.
However, he didn’t have much hope in that regard. The system had already told him that no further improvents could be made to his hamstring stats after the S-Grade Elixir was used.
They also had an FA Cup ga coming up in two days ti against Sheffield Wednesday at their ho field. Of course, since Sheffield was a local lower-league derby it ant that he would likely not get a chance to risk Kaito’s new legs.
While Michael was in the shower, Sarah picked up the smartphone which was buzzing on the kitchen island.
"Hello, Sterling residence." She answered.
"Hi honey, it’s ."
"Kenji! I’m so glad to hear from you."
Sarah’s face lit up as she heard the voice of her billionaire husband. She quickly chastised him for not calling ever since he flew to the Middle East for the sponsorship deals, however she wasn’t that upset since she knew he was busy building the empire.
They’d also received a call from the club secretary to let them know how Kenji was handling the dia storm a month earlier.
After so apologies, the two caught up on their day.
"Ah Michael is just in the shower, I’ll go get him for you." Sarah said, getting up from her barstool.
"No it’s fine. I just called to talk to you." Kenji replied, his tone clearly more flat and corporate than before.
"Oh... Okay then."
"I’ve gotta go get so dinner with the board and head to bed honey. We’ve got an early takeover negotiation session tomorrow."
Sarah frowned, feeling as if sothing was off. However, she still said her goodbyes and urged him to call more often so she didn’t get lonely in the big house.
Almost the sa mont Kenji hung up, Michael waltzed out of the bathroom feeling refreshed in a fresh pair of sweatpants. The first thing he saw was a worried expression on Sarah’s face as she looked at him.
"What is it?" He asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.
"Kenji called, but he said he didn’t want to talk to you."
As a close friend, it was painful to hear that her husband and his best friend didn’t want to talk to each other. Especially since she didn’t know the exact reason behind the tension.
Michael frowned for a mont, trying to figure out why. A few monts later his face changed to one of understanding, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips.
"Heh. Don’t worry Sarah, since we’re disagreeing about the Real Madrid buyout clause now, we have beco fated rivals in the boardroom."
Michael’s tone was dramatic as he whisked away his wet and ssy hair from his forehead with theatrical flair.
Sarah rely stood there, staring at him unblinkingly.
’Oh god why is he so much like Diego...’ Her hand instinctively crept up to her face as she perford a massive facepalm.
The silence between them was broken by the sound of Michael’s grumbling stomach, pulling him back to reality.
"Umm, is dinner ready?"
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