The Journey Begins

"What have I gotten myself into this time?" Edward West sighed, glancing around the quiet room. His face was calm, yet the twitching of his arm and the slight shake of his legs betrayed his inner turmoil.

Dressed in a tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt beneath, his brown hair slicked back, Edward presented a professional image. But underneath that polished and calm exterior was a man grappling with the fallout of his career.

Just weeks ago, he had served as an assistant coach for a second-tier football club, filled with ambition and hope. But after the team's relegation from the Premier League, management had swiftly made cuts. Edward was the first to go, a victim of the club's dissatisfaction. The disappointment of the fans and the board had left him with nothing but a sense of loss and uncertainty.

With nothing but his football knowledge at his disposal, he had applied to numerous clubs, each application met with rejection. The sting of failure pushed him to his last resort also known as plan Z: starting a football club from scratch.( I know it sounds crazy but just go with it for now)

This wasn't an entirely hopeless venture as it may seem. Something strange had begun happening to him recently. After tripping over his bag and hitting his head, Edward found himself with an unusual ability—he could see the stats of every person he encountered. (A word of caution: do not try this at home; all you'll get is a concussion, not any cool powers.)

When he checked his own stats in the mirror, the numbers were disheartening:

Pass: 56

Shot: 54

Pace: 68

Dribbling: 55

Def: 43

Physical: 73

Leadership: 82

Coaching: 85

Management: 80

Scout: ???

While his on-field abilities were borderline laughable for someone who had played a little professional football , his management skills hinted that starting a club might be feasible after all.

And that brought him to his current predicament—sitting in the office of one of the most powerful mafia families in England: the Caprish Family.

To bring his dream to life, he needed capital, and this was the only route left to him. He had approached the bank for a loan, only to be met with laughter and dismissive pats on the back, wishing him luck in his ambitious dreams.

The Caprish family was his last hope, bound to him by a favor owed for helping the patriarch's youngest son break into the starting lineup of the club. It was a desperate gamble, but he had little choice left.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, Coach West," a deep, menacing voice cut through Edward's thoughts, pulling him from his stupor. He turned to see a middle-aged man approaching, his pure black hair streaked with white and slicked back with meticulous care. The man's face was remarkably smooth, with barely a wrinkle in sight, and he moved with a graceful confidence that only heightened Edward's unease.

Without prompting, a set of stats materialized before Edward's eyes:

Pass: 30

Shot: 49

Pace: 60

Dribbling: 21

Def: 34

Physical: 82

Leadership: 95

Coaching: 54

Management: 96

Insight: 98

Scout: 97

'What's with these boss-level stats?' Edward thought, astonished. 'Insight? A unique stat?' Then a realization struck him: this man, who seemed at least twenty years his senior, had more strength than he could ever hope to possess.

"Now, I was told you came to me to borrow some money?" Mr. Caprish, known as Thomas, asked as he settled into his chair, his piercing gaze fixed on Edward with a curious intensity that felt almost predatory.

Summoning all his courage, Edward replied, "Yes, Mr. Caprish."

"Please, just call me Thomas. We're friends, aren't we?" Thomas poured two glasses of alcohol from a bottle on his desk, handing one to Edward before downing his own in a single gulp.

"How much do you need?" he asked, his voice steady.

"Sir, I would like to ask to borrow seventy million pounds," Edward stated, his voice barely above a whisper as he mentioned the staggering amount.

"For your football club, right?" Thomas dropped his cup onto the desk, his free hand rhythmically tapping the surface, creating a tension in the air that seemed to thicken.

"Yes, sir," Edward confirmed, taken aback by how Thomas seemed to already know his intentions.

A heavy silence enveloped them, only the rhythmic tapping of Thomas's fingers and the sound of the clocks hand moving could be heard in the silent room. Beads of sweat began to form on Edward's forehead, but he fought to maintain his composure, anxiously waiting for Thomas to speak.

"Edward," Thomas said, halting his tapping and locking eyes with Edward. His gaze felt like a blade slicing through to Edward's very soul. "Even though I owe you a favor, that doesn't mean I can just lend you seventy million pounds. Do you take me for a madman?"

Edward nodded solemnly, having anticipated the rejection. Just as he prepared to apologize, Thomas's next words stunned him.

"But you're quite lucky, aren't you, Mr. Edward? I was just about to enter the football business, but I lacked someone I could trust to run the club in my place." A smile crept onto Thomas's face, and Edward could hardly process what he was hearing. "How would you like to be the coach and co-founder of the club I want to create? I'll give you forty percent of the club and authority equal to a manager. All I need you to do is bring this club to the top. Do you think you can do that?"(I don't actually have no idea if this is too much of if it's the right amount what do you guys think)

Shock and suspicion coursed through Edward, but he couldn't let this opportunity slip away. "Yes, sir! I won't let you down. I'll make sure to bring this club to the top," he exclaimed, bowing slightly in his seat, gratitude overwhelming him. For a moment, he forgot that this man was the head of one of the most dangerous families in England.

"Alright, enough with the thanks. We have much to do, and I don't have time to waste," Thomas said, his tone shifting to serious. Edward straightened, sensing the urgency in his voice.

"You need to come up with the team name, uniform, stadium name, and location by tonight. I'll handle the rest. Since you have my secretary's number, send everything to her. Anything related to the club should go through her—no need to bother me." Thomas glanced at his watch. "Our time is up, Mr. West. I hope you won't disappoint me." He stood and extended his hand for a shake.

Edward, feeling the gravity of the moment, accepted the handshake firmly. As he turned to leave, the door swung open, revealing a beautiful blonde woman in typical secretary attire, her curves accentuated in all the right places, glasses perched on her nose.

"Thank you," Edward murmured, not daring to meet her gaze as he exited the office, already brainstorming names and uniforms for the team.

The woman watched Edward's back as he left, then moved to Thomas's desk, placing a stack of files on it. "Sir, are you sure this is the right idea? While I support your entry into the soccer business, do we really have to entrust such an important task to him?" She studied Thomas, who was now gazing out at the sprawling city below through the office's expansive window.

"It's called football, Lily, not soccer," Thomas corrected her, turning to face her with a steely expression that erased any hint of friendliness. His aura was intimidating, and his tone left no room for argument. "And don't ever question my decisions. My intuition never fails me."

Lily maintained her composure, even under his dangerous gaze. "I understand, sir. I apologize for questioning you."

"Don't worry, Lily. You may not see it now, but in time, you'll realize I made the right choice. That man is going to be something special—I can see it in his eyes." He turned back to the window, watching the peaceful sunset, contemplating the journey ahead. "We just have to see how far he'll go."

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So what do you guys think of the first chapter

I'm gonna first drop at Least the first ten chapters and after that you guys give me your opinion on wherether to drop this or not