Victor Vance. He was an American businessman wearing a suit that cost more than Michael first car. He had teeth that were too white and a tan that was too orange.

Victor placed a gold pen on the desk.

"It is a simple offer Michael," Victor said. His voice was smooth like melted chocolate. "My consortium wants to buy thirty percent of Barnsley Football Club. We offer you one hundred million pounds. Cash."

Michael leaned back in his chair. Arthur Milton was sitting in the corner pretending to read a newspaper but Michael knew he was listening.

"One hundred million," Michael repeated. "That is a lot of money."

"It is huge money," Victor smiled. "We want to help you. We want to globalize the brand. First we change the stadium name. The Fortress is cute but it does not pay the bills. We rename it The Vance Global Arena."

Michael felt a twitch in his eye.

"And then," Victor continued waving his hand. "The badge. It is too old fashioned. We make it modern. Maybe a cool animal. A laser tiger?"

"A laser tiger?" Arthur choked on his coffee.

"It tests well with Generation Z," Victor said seriously. "Listen Michael. You have done a great job. A cute job. But now you are in Europe. You need grown ups in the room. You need real money."

Michael looked at the Manager of the Month trophy on his shelf. He looked at the photo of Diego Nunez celebrating. He looked at the System interface that only he could see.

[SYSTEM ALERT] [HOSTILE TAKEOVER ATTEMPT DETECTED] [THREAT LEVEL: HIGH] [ADVICE: PROTECT THE SOUL]

Michael picked up the gold pen. He looked at it.

"You are right Victor," Michael said. "We are in Europe. We are growing."

"Exactly," Victor said opening his briefcase. "Just sign here."

"But there is one problem," Michael said.

"What is that?"

"We are Misfits," Michael said. "We like our old badge. We like our stadium name. And we definitely do not like laser tigers."

Michael tossed the pen back. It slid across the desk and fell on the floor.

"We are not a brand Victor," Michael said his voice turning cold. "We are a football club. My football club. And it is not for sale."

Victor smile disappeared.

"You are making a mistake," Victor said standing up. "You cannot fight the modern world Sterling. You will run out of money. And when you do I will be waiting to buy the scraps."

"We will see," Michael said. "Arthur show the gentleman the door. And make sure he does not steal the pens."

Arthur stood up smiling.

"This way Mr Tiger," Arthur said opening the door.

When they were gone Michael let out a long breath.

He had just turned down one hundred million pounds.

It was crazy. It was reckless.

But it was the only choice.

That evening the mood was very different.

To celebrate the start of the season and the new signings Michael threw a party at the new club restaurant.

The place was buzzing. Luigi had outdone himself. There were trays of pasta, mountains of pizza, and a chocolate fountain that Diego Nunez was eyeing suspiciously.

The music was loud. Isaiah King was the DJ. He was playing Brazilian funk music and trying to teach Jan Visser how to dance.

It was a funny sight.

Jan Visser was two meters tall. He moved like a tree in the wind. Isaiah was small and fluid.

"Loosen your hips Jan!" Isaiah shouted over the music. "Feel the rhythm!"

"I feel only confusion," Jan shouted back stiffly moving his arms.

In the corner Jamie Vardy was holding court. The veteran striker had a can of energy drink in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.

Enzo Silva the Pitbull sat next to him listening intently.

"So there I was," Jamie said. "It was snowing in Sheffield. I had no studs in my boots. I was sliding everywhere. But I saw the keeper. He looked scared. So I just chased him."

"You chased him?" Enzo asked his eyes wide.

"Yeah. Just ran at him screaming. He panicked. He kicked the ball at my face. It hit my nose and went in. Goal."

Enzo nodded seriously. "I will try this. I will scream at them."

"That is the spirit lad," Jamie grinned. "Fear is better than skill."

Michael watched from the bar. He was sipping a lemonade.

This was his family.

The reject goalkeeper. The old party boy. The angry teenager. The pink booted star.

They were weird. They were loud. But they were his.

Diego Nunez walked over. He was wearing a shirt that was too tight. It looked like it might explode if he took a deep breath.

"Boss," Diego said. "The chocolate fountain. Is it soup?"

"It is dessert Diego," Michael laughed. "You dip strawberries in it."

"Strawberries are fruit," Diego frowned. "Can I dip a sausage in it?"

"I would not recommend it," Michael said. "But you are the Bull. You can do what you want."

Diego walked away grabbing a sausage from a tray. He dunked it in the chocolate and ate it.

He paused. He chewed.

"It is... interesting," Diego declared. "Sweet meat. I like it."

Michael laughed. But then he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned around.

It was Shaun Higgins.

The defender had been with Barnsley since League One. He was the original rock. The Butcher before Diego was the Bull.

But Shaun was not smiling. He was holding a drink but he had not taken a sip.

"Boss," Shaun said. "Can we talk? Outside?"

Michael felt a knot in his stomach. He knew this moment was coming.

"Of course Shaun."

They walked out onto the balcony. The summer air was warm. The lights of the stadium construction illuminated the night sky.

Shaun leaned against the railing. He looked at the pitch.

"It looks amazing Boss," Shaun said. "The new stand. The grass. It is Premier League quality."

"It is," Michael agreed.

"I remember when this place was falling apart," Shaun smiled sadly. "Remember the showers? Cold water only."

"And the rats," Michael added. "Real rats not Jamie Vardy rats."

They laughed. But the silence that followed was heavy.

"I saw the squad list Boss," Shaun said quietly. "Diego. Pavard. Tom. And now you are looking for more."

"Shaun..." Michael started.

"It is okay," Shaun interrupted. "I know. I am not stupid. I am a Championship defender. Maybe a bottom Premier League defender. But this team? You are aiming for the stars. I cannot fly that high."

Michael looked at him. Shaun was a good man. A loyal servant.

"You played thirty games last season Shaun," Michael said. "You helped us survive."

"I did," Shaun said. "And I am proud of that. But I want to play Boss. I do not want to sit in the fancy new seats and watch Diego head the ball. I want to be on the grass."

He took a deep breath.

"Sheffield Wednesday called me. They are in the Championship. They want me to be their captain."

Michael nodded slowly. It was a good move. A great club.

"You deserve to be a captain Shaun," Michael said. "You are a leader."

"Will you let me go?" Shaun asked. "They cannot pay a big fee."

"For you?" Michael said. "You can go for free. I will not stand in your way. You earned the right to choose."

Shaun eyes filled with tears. He wiped them away quickly.

"Thanks Boss. For everything. For believing in me when nobody else did."

"Thank you Shaun," Michael said. "For the tackles. For the blocks. For the blood."

They shook hands. Then they hugged.

It was the end of an era. The last connection to the old Barnsley was leaving.

They walked back inside. The party was still raging.

Michael walked to the DJ booth. He took the microphone from Isaiah.

"Turn the music down for a second!" Michael shouted.

The music faded. The room went quiet. Jamie Vardy stopped mid story. Diego stopped eating his chocolate sausage.

"We are here to celebrate the new season," Michael said looking around the room. "But we also have to say goodbye to a legend."

He pointed at Shaun Higgins.

"Shaun is leaving us. He is going to Sheffield Wednesday."

A gasp went through the room.

Diego Nunez walked forward. He looked devastated.

"Shaun?" Diego asked. "The Butcher? You leave?"

"I have to Diego," Shaun said. "I need to play."

Diego walked over and wrapped Shaun in a massive hug. He lifted him off the ground.

"You are my brother," Diego roared. "You taught me how to kick people in the English way. I will miss you."

"I will miss you too you crazy animal," Shaun laughed struggling to breathe.

Danny Fletcher raised his glass.

"To Shaun Higgins!" Danny shouted. "One of the originals!"

"TO SHAUN!" the room roared.

It was a sad moment but also a beautiful one.

Football moves fast. Players come and go. But the bond they built in the dressing room remained.

Shaun spent the next hour saying his goodbyes. He hugged Arthur. He hugged Luigi. He even hugged Jan Visser's knees because that was as high as he could reach.

Then he walked out of the door.

Michael watched him go.

He felt a vibration in his pocket. The System.

[ROSTER UPDATE] [DEPARTURE: SHAUN HIGGINS] [EFFECT: LEADERSHIP VOID DETECTED] [ADVICE: A NEW LEADER MUST STEP UP]

Michael looked around the room.

He saw Danny Fletcher talking to the young academy kid Leo Stone. He saw Diego Nunez showing Enzo Silva how to flex his muscles. He saw Jamie Vardy teaching the team a goal celebration.

The void would be filled. The Dynasty was evolving.

"Are you okay Boss?" Arthur asked appearing at his side with a plate of tiramisu.

"I am fine Arthur," Michael said. "It is just... growing pains."

"Growing hurts," Arthur said wisely taking a bite of the cake. "But it is better than shrinking."

"True," Michael said.

He looked at the clock. It was midnight.

Tomorrow the preseason training camp started. Real work.

But for tonight he let the music play.

"Isaiah!" Michael shouted. "Play the song!"

"Which one Boss?"

"The Barnsley song!"

Isaiah grinned. He dropped the beat.

"WE ARE BARNSLEY!"

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