12 Get Together

At this time, in a manor on the outskirts of Manchester, a warm family dinner was being held. The protagonist of the banquet was Sir Alex Ferguson.

Ferguson had invited several of his closest friends and former players—the legendary Class of '92—to his home for the evening. These players, who had all made their mark at Manchester United, lived in England and were not far away. Among those on the invitation list was Tiger King.

Tiger King nodded and walked to the door. As he opened it, familiar faces greeted him—his old teammates, his brothers-in-arms from the Class of '92.

Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes, Nicky Butt, Gary Neville, and Phil Neville all stepped inside, their voices filling the manor with warmth and laughter. Each of them had been part of Manchester United's golden generation, shaped under the iron will of Sir Alex Ferguson.

"Tiger!" Giggs grinned, clapping him on the back. "Still can't believe you're the gaffer now."

Scholes smirked, his quiet demeanor unchanged. "Hope you're ready, mate. The Premier League's gonna test you."

Gary Neville chuckled. "If he can handle the dressing room with us lot, he'll be fine."

Tiger King smiled, but inside, he felt the weight of their expectations. These weren't just former teammates; they were legends of Manchester United. And now, he was the one who had to carry the torch forward.

Sir Alex, watching from his chair, gestured for them to sit. Once everyone was settled, he took a deep breath and finally spoke.

"Lads, this isn't just any dinner." His voice, though softer with age, still carried the authority that had built an empire at Old Trafford. "This is a gathering of family. And our family has a new leader."

The room fell silent. Every eye turned to Tiger King.

Ferguson leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "Tiger, you're in for the fight of your life. But you're not alone. These men—your brothers—are here. And I am here. Whatever happens, you carry the badge, you carry the legacy. Do it justice."

Tiger King swallowed, nodding. "I won't let you down, Sir. I won't let Manchester United down."

Gary Neville raised his glass. "To Tiger King. To Manchester United."

Glasses clinked. The road ahead was uncertain, but in this moment, Tiger King knew—he was not alone.

After saying this, Tiger King couldn't help but recall the whirlwind of events from half a month ago.

When Sir Alex Ferguson had brought him in as the second assistant coach before the season's end, he had already felt honored. But at Ferguson's retirement press conference, when the legendary manager personally endorsed him as his successor, it had struck him like a bolt of lightning. The shock had hardly settled when Malcolm Glazer showed up at his doorstep, offering him a three-year contract. At that moment, it felt as if he had been thrown into a fog, completely unprepared.

Yet, when the contract was placed in front of him, he didn't hesitate—he signed.

Glazer gave him a firm nod. "Young man, you are well prepared. Good. Manchester United's future depends on you."

As Tiger King walked Glazer out of his home, reality hit him like a weight pressing on his chest. Prepared? He wasn't sure he even knew what that meant anymore. He felt as if he had just been swept up by a current too strong to fight.

And yet, the moment he put pen to paper, something inside him awakened. Memories flooded back—his years as a player, the highs, the lows, the unfulfilled dreams. His career had been cut short, his ambitions left incomplete.

A voice echoed in his mind: "If I couldn't win it all as a player... then I will win everything as a coach."

Ferguson, noticing Tiger King's momentary daze, called for his servant. A glass of water was placed in front of him.

"Tiger, have some water," Ferguson said with a knowing smile.

Tiger King blinked, snapping back to the present. Realizing his lapse in focus, he quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Sir. I got a little lost in thought."

Ferguson chuckled. "Understandable. When I took over Manchester United, I was even more restless than you."

Tiger King thought Ferguson might offer him some advice, some words of wisdom about the immense task ahead. But the legendary manager remained silent.

Instead, Ferguson simply leaned back on the sofa, his gaze drifting toward the towering trees outside his manor's window. The late evening light filtered through the branches, casting long shadows across the room. His expression was calm, almost as if he were savoring the peace that retirement had brought him.

Tiger King didn't interrupt.

Though he carried himself with confidence among colleagues and friends, in front of Sir Alex, he was always a student—respectful, quiet, absorbing every moment.

As the plates were cleared and glasses emptied, the evening air carried a quiet sense of nostalgia. Everyone knew that gatherings like this, under Ferguson's roof, would never be the same again.

Tiger King rose first, sensing the slight fatigue in the Jazz's eyes. "Sir, I'll take my leave now," he said respectfully.

Ferguson, leaning back in his chair, gave a small nod. "Don't be a stranger, Tiger. Come see an old man once in a while."

Giggs, Scholes, Neville, and the rest of the Class of '92 followed suit, each exchanging a firm handshake with their mentor before stepping out into the cool Manchester night.

As they reached the driveway, Beckham glanced back at the grand manor and let out a soft sigh. "An era is over."

Gary Neville, ever the optimist, clapped him on the shoulder. "But a new one is just beginning. And I, for one, like our captain's chances."

Tiger King smirked, but there was no humor in his eyes—only fire. Butt playfully nudged him, giving a thumbs-up. "Captain, we'll be waiting for the day you lift the sixth crown."

The others chuckled, taking it as lighthearted banter. But Tiger King's fists clenched. He wasn't joking.

"I won't let you wait too long," he said, his voice quiet but filled with unshakable resolve.

Laughter filled the air as the players headed for their cars, but Giggs hesitated. He saw that Tiger had arrived by taxi and offered him a lift.

Tiger King shook his head. "No worries, Giggsy. The ride gives me time to think." Giggs didn't push further. He knew that look.

As the last car disappeared down the road, Tiger King stood alone under the dim glow of the streetlights.

Tonight had been about memories.

Tomorrow would be about building a new future.