Arthur Milton was sitting on the sofa. He was eating a croissant with extreme focus.

"You look happy Boss," Arthur said chewing slowly. "You look like a man who slept well."

"I did sleep well Arthur," Michael said. "I have my conscience. I have my club. Life is simple."

"Life is simple," Arthur repeated. "Until you turn on the television."

Arthur pointed the remote at the big screen on the wall.

"What happened?" Michael asked. "Did Diego try to eat the mascot again?"

"Worse," Arthur said. "Look at the yellow ticker. Look at Liverpool."

Michael looked.

BREAKING NEWS: LIVERPOOL BREAK TRANSFER RECORD.

The screen changed. It showed a video of a young man stepping out of a private jet in Liverpool. He was tall. He was blond. He had shoulders as wide as a door. He looked less like a football player and more like a robot built in a laboratory.

LIVERPOOL SIGN GERMAN WONDERKID KLAUS WAGNER.

FEE: 150 MILLION POUNDS.

STATS: 45 GOALS IN BUNDESLIGA.

Michael felt his stomach drop.

Klaus Wagner. The Terminator.

Every scout in the world knew him. He was nineteen years old. He was faster than Mbappe. He was stronger than Haaland. He was a machine designed to destroy defenses.

"They bought him?" Michael whispered. "I thought he was going to Real Madrid."

"Liverpool hijacked the deal," Arthur said. "They paid cash. They are angry Boss. They saw us building a stadium. They saw us signing Ramos. They decided to wake up."

The news anchor on the screen was breathless.

"This changes the landscape of the Premier League," the reporter shouted. "Wagner is a generational talent. With him leading the line Liverpool are now favorites for everything."

Michael looked at the footage. Wagner was scoring goals for fun. Left foot. Right foot. Header. Bicycle kick.

"He is good," Michael admitted. "He is very good."

But the news did not stop there.

The ticker at the bottom of the screen kept scrolling.

CHELSEA SIGN BRAZILIAN WINGER NEYMAR JUNIOR JUNIOR (THE NEXT PELE).

MANCHESTER UNITED SIGN ITALIAN DEFENSIVE WALL LUCA ROSSI.

ARSENAL SIGN SPANISH MAGICIAN PEDRO.

Michael stood up. He walked to the screen.

"What is happening?" Michael asked. "Is it a sale? Buy one get one free?"

"The Premier League is scared Boss," Arthur said wiping crumbs from his shirt. "They saw Barnsley rising. They saw the Misfits winning. The big dogs got scared. Now they are spending all the money."

Michael felt a vibration in his pocket.

The System.

He pulled out his phone. The screen was glowing red. Not blue. Red.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[LEAGUE DIFFICULTY LEVEL INCREASED]

[PREVIOUS LEVEL: HARD]

[NEW LEVEL: NIGHTMARE]

[THE ERA OF SUPER TEAMS HAS BEGUN]

[ADVICE: UPGRADE YOUR ARMOR]

"Nightmare," Michael read aloud. "Great. Just what we needed."

THE LOCKER ROOM PANIC

Michael walked down to the dressing room. He expected fear.

The players were all looking at their phones.

Isaiah King looked terrified.

"Boss," Isaiah said. "Did you see Chelsea signed the new Brazilian guy? He has five million followers on TikTok. He does dances I have never even seen. How can I compete with that?"

"You compete by scoring goals Isaiah," Michael said. "Not by dancing."

"But his dances are fire," Isaiah whispered sadly.

Jan Visser the giant goalkeeper was looking at a picture of Klaus Wagner.

"He is very big," Jan said. "He looks like he was made in a factory. Do robots feel pain Boss? If I punch the ball and hit his head will he break?"

"He is human Jan," Michael said. "He bleeds like us."

"Does he?" Diego Nunez asked.

The Bull was sitting in the corner. He was sharpening his studs with a small metal file.

"He looks soft," Diego grunted. "He has blond hair. He looks like a Prince."

"He scored forty five goals Diego," Michael reminded him. "He is not a Prince. He is a killer."

"I eat killers," Diego said calmly. "I will introduce him to the Premier League. I will introduce him to the Barnsley mud."

Sergio Ramos stood up. The legend adjusted his collar.

"I played against the original Ronaldo," Ramos said. "I played against Messi. I played against Lewandowksi. This kid? He is just a kid."

Ramos looked at the team.

"Listen to me," Ramos said. His voice commanded the room. "They buy stars. We build soldiers. A star shines bright but a soldier survives the war. Let Liverpool have their robot. We have the Bull."

"YES!" Diego roared. "THE BULL AND THE MATADOR! WE ARE THE WALL!"

Michael smiled. This was why he brought Ramos. For moments like this.

THE TRAINING PITCH

They went out to train.

The intensity was different today.

Usually training was fun. Today it was serious.

Enzo Silva was running like a man possessed. He was chasing Leo Stone.

"Run little ghost!" Enzo shouted. "If you are slow the German robot will catch you!"

Leo Stone was running. The fifteen year old looked focused. He knew the level had gone up. He knew that to play in this new Premier League he had to be faster. Smarter. Better.

Michael stood on the sideline with Arthur.

"Look at them," Michael said. "They know."

"They know what Boss?"

"They know that last season was the warm up," Michael said. "This season? With these new players arriving? Every game will be a final. Every point will be gold."

He watched Erik Olsen.

The Viking was practicing shooting.

He hit the ball.

BANG.

Top corner.

He hit another one.

BANG.

Bottom corner.

Erik did not smile. He just collected the balls and did it again.

"Erik is angry," Arthur noted. "Why?"

"Because he wants to be the best striker in the league," Michael said. "And now the media says Klaus Wagner is the best. Erik took that personally."

THE PHONE CALL

Later that afternoon Michael was in his office looking at tactical maps.

His phone rang.

It was Julian Thorne the owner.

"Michael," Julian said. "I saw the news. Liverpool spent one hundred and fifty million."

"I saw it Julian," Michael said.

"Do we need money?" Julian asked. "I can sell a yacht. I can sell two yachts. We can buy someone."

Michael looked at his squad list on the wall.

He looked at the names.

Vardy. Ramos. Nunez. Stone. Olsen.

"No Julian," Michael said. "We do not panic buy. We stick to the plan."

"Are you sure?" Julian sounded nervous. "The water is full of sharks Michael. Big expensive sharks."

"We are not sharks Julian," Michael said. "We are piranhas. A shark is big but a swarm of piranhas can strip a shark to the bone in seconds."

Julian laughed. "I like that image. Go get them Michael."

THE EVENING NEWS

That night Michael sat at home with Sarah.

They were watching the football analysis show.

The pundits were excited. They were talking about the "New Golden Era" of the Premier League.

They showed a graphic of the predicted top four.

Manchester City

Liverpool

Arsenal

Chelsea

Barnsley was predicted to finish 8th.

"They forgot us," Sarah said pointing at the screen. "They forgot the Misfits."

"They always forget us," Michael said taking a sip of water. "It is better that way."

"Why?"

"Because when you are forgotten you are dangerous," Michael said. "They are looking at Klaus Wagner. They are looking at the Brazilian dancer. They are not looking at Diego Nunez waiting in the bushes."

"Is Diego really waiting in a bush?" Sarah asked laughing.

"Metaphorically," Michael smiled. "Mostly."

He looked at the tiny knitted shoes on the shelf.

The baby was coming soon. The league was getting harder. The pressure was mounting.

But Michael Sterling did not feel fear.

He felt excitement.

He picked up his tablet. He opened the Misfit Hub app.

He posted a message to the fans.

MESSAGE FROM THE BOSS:

Let them buy the world. Let them spend the billions. We have something money cannot buy. We have each other. Bring on the robots. We are ready.

He posted it.

Within seconds the comments exploded.

Michael turned off the tablet.

"Arthur was right," Michael whispered. "The difficulty level is Nightmare."

"What did you say?" Sarah asked.

"I said we are going to need more energy drinks for Jamie Vardy," Michael said.

The next match was against Aston Villa. But looming in the distance was the game against Liverpool. The game against the 150 million pound man.

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