The next day, the atmosphere in the main meeting room of Bradford FC was boiling. Not because of the weather, but because of one decision that made many people squirm uncomfortably. There, Reinhart sat at the end of the long table, while across from him were the staff: the fitness coach, tactical analysts, marketing team, head of the academy, and two senior coaching staff who had been with the club for decades.

  Cassandra stood at the side of the room, not getting involved. She was merely a spectator, though her eyes were sharp, following every movement and word.

  “Twelve pyers released in one night?! Are you joking?” shouted Dougs, the head of marketing, his face flushed. “Two of them are the main faces in our posters! They have tons of followers! The young fans buy their jerseys!”

  “It’s not the marketing team that wins games,” Reinhart replied coldly.

  “But we need sales to survive!” Dougs shot back, smming his hand on the table.

  Senior coach Connor, an old man with a stern face, spoke up. “And you’re kicking out our main striker. Sure, he only scored five goals, but he has influence in the locker room!”

  “Influence that led us to the bottom of the table?” Reinhart snapped. “If you value influence over quality, you’re running a show, not a football club.”

  “Then what about those kids?” said Jean-Paul, the club's tactical analyst, pointing at the presentation screen showing data for Lucien and Duvant. “Their stats... are incomplete. Lucien isn’t even detected on our radar! What kind of nonsense is that?”

  “Lucien doesn’t py by conventional statistical logic. You won’t understand. But you’ll see,” Reinhart replied, almost whispering.

  The fitness coach, McNeil, nodded skeptically. “They both look... different. But their bodies aren’t ready for the league. They’re too young.”

  Reinhart answered calmly, “They won’t be thrown into the battlefield right away. For now, their task is to learn. Bodies can be trained. But vision like Lucien’s, bravery like Duvant’s, can’t be taught.”

  Then suddenly Granger stood up from his seat. “Listen, Reinhart. We know you have a reputation. But this isn’t an experiment. This is a club with history! Don’t change everything just because of two kids!”

  Reinhart slowly stood up, his voice still ft, but sharp like a thin bde piercing the chest:

  “I’m not interested in history that’s only boasted about but not fought for. You’re holding on to illusions. I choose to build the future.”

  For a moment, the room fell silent. Cassandra even held her breath.

  Then Reinhart added, “I’ve submitted a document to Cassandra for full authority over tactical policies, recruitment, and pyer development. If it’s not approved, I’ll leave today.”

  Everyone fell silent.

  Finally, Cassandra spoke, “The board received your request st night, Reinhart. They’ve approved it.”

  Dougs turned quickly. “What?! Without discussion?”

  “No discussion needed,” Cassandra cut him off. “Because the only one who believes this club can rise... is sitting in front of you right now.”

  Reinhart turned his back and walked out of the room without looking back. “Save your controversies. Show the results on the field.”

  And outside the building, as a light rain began to fall, two unfamiliar teenagers sat under the training ground tent, watching, listening, and waiting. Waiting for the moment when the world would finally see that the biggest surprise... was being prepared.