The morning after the defeat to PSG felt heavy. The humidity in Seoul was suffocating. It felt like the air itself was tired.

Michael Sterling sat in the hotel lobby. He was watching the fish in the giant aquarium. They swam in circles. They looked peaceful. They did not have to worry about high lines or sweeper keepers who could not pass.

Arthur Milton walked over. He was carrying a plate of Korean pancakes. He sat down next to Michael.

"You look like a fish Boss," Arthur observed. "Your eyes are open but you are not seeing anything."

"I am thinking Arthur," Michael said. "We lost heavily. It exposed us. We need to be smarter."

"We need coffee," Arthur said pointing to a waiter. "And we need to answer the phone. It has been ringing for an hour."

Michael looked at his phone on the table. It was vibrating again.

Unknown Number. Germany.

"Germany?" Michael frowned. "Why is Germany calling me? We played Atletico and PSG. We did not play Bayern."

He picked it up.

"Hello? Michael Sterling speaking."

"Herr Sterling," a crisp efficient voice spoke. "This is Hans Weber. Director of Football for Borussia Dortmund."

Michael sat up straighter. Dortmund. The Yellow Wall. One of the best clubs in Europe for developing talent.

"Good morning Herr Weber," Michael said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We are in Seoul too," Weber said. "Scouting. We watched your game against PSG yesterday."

Michael winced. "Not our best performance."

"The result was irrelevant," Weber said. "We were watching one player. We saw his data. We saw his running stats. He ran thirteen kilometers in a friendly match. In this heat. It is inhuman."

Michael knew exactly who they were talking about.

"Kenji," Michael whispered.

"Kenji Sato," Weber confirmed. "The Engine. We want him. We want him to replace Jude Bellingham in our hearts. We offer thirty five million pounds."

Michael nearly dropped the phone.

Thirty five million.

He looked at Arthur. He mouthed the number. Arthur dropped his pancake.

"That is a generous offer," Michael said keeping his voice calm. "But Kenji is vital to us."

"Forty million," Weber said immediately. "Plus add ons. And we promise he plays in the Champions League this season."

Michael paused.

Forty million pounds.

He had bought Kenji Sato for fifty thousand pounds from a Japanese high school team two years ago.

This was a return on investment of almost eighty thousand percent.

"Can we meet?" Michael asked.

"I am in the lobby," Weber said. "Look to your left."

Michael looked left. A man in a sharp grey suit was waving at him. He was not smiling.

The negotiation took ten minutes. It was the fastest business deal of Michael life.

Hans Weber did not play games. He wanted the player. He had the money.

"We need energy," Weber explained placing a contract on the table. "Our midfield is talented but lazy. We need a samurai spirit. Kenji is perfect."

Michael looked at the contract. The numbers were dizzying.

TRANSFER FEE: £40,000,000

ADD ONS: £5,000,000 (If Dortmund win the league)

SELL ON CLAUSE: 10 PERCENT

It was life changing money for the club. It would pay for the new stadium roof. It would pay for the academy for ten years.

But it felt like selling a limb.

"I have to talk to him," Michael said. "I cannot sell him without his blessing. He is family."

"You have one hour," Weber said checking his expensive watch. "We fly to Tokyo at noon. We want him on the plane."

Michael walked up to the players floor. His feet felt heavy.

He found Kenji Sato in the hotel gym.

Of course he was in the gym. Everyone else was sleeping or playing video games. Kenji was running on a treadmill.

"Kenji," Michael said.

Kenji pressed a button. The machine slowed down. He stepped off. He was not even sweating.

"Good morning Boss," Kenji bowed. "I am punishing my legs for the loss yesterday. They were too slow."

"Your legs were fine Kenji," Michael said. "Sit down. We need to talk."

Kenji sat on a bench. He drank from a water bottle. He looked at Michael with pure trusting eyes.

"Kenji," Michael started. "Do you know Borussia Dortmund?"

"Yes," Kenji said. "The Yellow Wall. Shinji Kagawa played there. A Japanese legend."

"They are here," Michael said. "They want you."

Kenji blinked. "Me?"

"Yes. They offered forty million pounds for you."

Kenji went silent. He looked at his hands.

"That is a lot of money Boss," Kenji whispered. "Am I worth that? I just run."

"You are worth every penny," Michael said. "They offer you Champions League football Kenji. The highest level. You will play against Real Madrid. Against Bayern Munich."

Kenji looked at the treadmill. Then he looked at the Barnsley crest on his training shirt.

"But Barnsley is my home," Kenji said softly. "You gave me a chance when nobody knew my name. I was just a student."

"And now you are a star," Michael said. "Kenji listen to me. I want you to stay. My heart wants you to stay. But my head... my head says you should go."

"Why?"

"Because you deserve to fly," Michael said. "We are in the Conference League. It is good. But Dortmund? That is the elite. And the money... the money will help Barnsley build the future. You will be helping us by leaving."

Kenji stood up. He walked to the window. He looked out at the city of Seoul.

He took a deep breath.

"If I go," Kenji said turning around. "Will the fans remember me?"

"Remember you?" Michael smiled sadly. "Kenji they will name a street after you. You are the original Misfit."

Kenji bowed. A low deep bow.

"Then I will go," Kenji said. "I will go to Germany. I will run for them. But my heart stays in Yorkshire."

The farewell was hasty and emotional.

Michael gathered the squad in the team room.

"Listen everyone," Michael announced. "We have some news."

The players looked up. They saw Kenji standing next to Michael with his small suitcase.

"Kenji is leaving us," Michael said. "He is joining Borussia Dortmund."

The room erupted.

"NO!" Diego Nunez roared. The Bull jumped up. "You cannot take the Engine! Who will run for me?! Who will cover my space?!"

"I have to go Diego san," Kenji said bowing to the giant. "It is a new adventure."

Isaiah King walked over. He looked shocked.

"Dortmund bro?" Isaiah said. "That is huge. That is Haaland territory. But... who am I going to room with? Who is going to wake me up at 6 AM doing yoga?"

"You can wake yourself up," Kenji smiled. "Buy an alarm clock."

Kai Sora stood up. He lowered his sunglasses.

"Kenji," Kai said. "You ran a lot. You made me look good. I will miss you."

"And I will miss your passes Kai san," Kenji said. "Even if you are lazy."

Kai laughed. "I am efficient."

Arthur Milton was sniffing in the corner. He hated goodbyes.

"Take some snacks for the flight Kenji," Arthur said handing him a bag of crisps. "German food is heavy. You need potatoes."

"Thank you Arthur san."

Diego Nunez walked over. He wrapped Kenji in a hug that looked like it might break the Japanese midfielders ribs.

"You are small," Diego rumbled. "But your heart is big. Show the Germans the Barnsley spirit. If they tackle you... kick them."

"I will try not to kick them," Kenji gasped. "But I will run past them."

Kenji waved one last time.

"Sayonara my friends."

He walked out of the door.

Michael followed him to the lobby where Hans Weber was waiting.

Kenji signed the papers on a coffee table.

"Welcome to Dortmund," Weber said shaking his hand.

Michael watched them walk to the waiting car. Kenji looked back once. He bowed.

Then he was gone.

Michael went back to his room.

He sat on the bed. He felt drained.

He opened his banking app.

He refreshed the page.

The number changed.

PREVIOUS BALANCE: £65,000,000

CURRENT BALANCE: £105,000,000

One hundred and five million pounds.

They had over one hundred million in the bank. They were richer than half the Premier League teams.

But the room felt empty.

Arthur knocked on the door and entered.

"It is done Boss?" Arthur asked.

"It is done," Michael said. "We are rich Arthur."

"We are rich," Arthur agreed. "But we are sad. Being rich and sad is a strange feeling. It is like eating a gold plated onion."

Michael laughed weakly.

"That is a good description Arthur."

He stood up and walked to the mirror.

"We lost the Engine," Michael said. "But we have the Pitbull. Enzo Silva has to step up now. He is not the backup anymore. He is the starter."

"Enzo is ready," Arthur said. "He is crazy. But he is ready."

"And we have money," Michael said looking at his reflection. "Serious money. We can buy anyone now."

"Do we buy another midfielder?" Arthur asked.

"No," Michael said. "We have Kai. We have Enzo. We have the kids in the academy. We save the money."

"Save it?" Arthur looked disappointed. "Not even a little splurge? A golden toaster?"

"We save it for January," Michael said. "Or for next summer. When we qualify for the Champions League we will need to buy superstars. Real superstars."

He picked up his phone. He sent a message to the squad group chat.

Michael: Kenji is gone. But the mission stays the same. We win for him tomorrow. We beat FC Seoul and we go home.

Replies came in instantly.

Diego: I will score a header for Kenji!

Isaiah: I will do a celebration for him!

Kai: I will run an extra kilometer. Maybe.

Michael smiled.

The Dynasty was changing. The faces were changing.

But the spirit? The spirit was unbreakable.

He looked at the empty space in the room where Kenji used to do his morning stretches.

"Goodbye Engine," Michael whispered. "Keep running."

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