Chapter 12: The Hidden Edge

The day after Burton Albion's narrow victory against Fleetwood Town, the buzz hadn't settled. Fans across forums, cafés, and social media dissected the match, debating what they had witnessed. Burton's sudden ability to dismantle Fleetwood's rigid defense was a revelation—and to some, a mystery.

In one corner of The Yellow Lion Pub, diehard Burton Albion fans gathered over pints to hash out their thoughts.

"It's not normal," said Martin, a grizzled supporter who had followed the team through thick and thin. "The way they moved in the second half—it wasn't football. It was like watching… something alive. Like it was breathing."

His friend, Gary, shook his head. "Alive? Don't be daft. It's just tactics, mate. Clever ones, sure, but it's football. There's no magic to it."

At the far end of the bar, a younger fan named Liam chimed in. "You weren't sitting up top, were you? I was near the back of the stands—practically an aerial view. I saw the whole thing. When they started shifting, it was like watching a snake. A proper marvel. I've never seen anything like it."

Martin's eyebrows shot up. "A snake? You're serious?"

Liam nodded fervently. "The players weren't running in straight lines—they were weaving, like they were choreographed. You lot down at the front couldn't see it properly. Trust me, from up there, it was… art."

The conversation grew louder as others joined in, some curious, others skeptical. Soon, the odd idea began circulating: fans at the back seats were claiming they had the best view of the magic. For once, the coveted front-row seats didn't seem so appealing.

Meanwhile, in the dimly lit confines of Victor Kane's office, he sat alone with the notebook that had become his secret weapon. The serpentine cover shimmered faintly under the fluorescent light, the word TACTICS etched in gold seeming to pulse with life. He flipped to the section detailing the Sidewinder Drift, and his eyes narrowed as the page began to glow faintly.

Then, it happened. A notification appeared on the page—First Buff Bonus Activated.

Sidewinder Drift (Rank: C)

Inspiration: The winding, adaptive movements of sidewinder snakes—fluid, deceptive, and precise.

Tactic: Exploit positional rotations to disorient opponents, dragging defenders out of shape before striking decisively.

Formation: Hybrid 4-3-3 or 4-2-3-1, emphasizing midfield rotations and diagonal attacking runs.

Unlocked Buff Bonuses (Active When Toggled):

Team Synchronization: +30% – Rotations and diagonal transitions flow seamlessly.

Passing Precision: +25% – Players thread riskier yet sharper passes.

Game Awareness: +40% – Opponent weaknesses become blatantly clear.

Confidence Boost: +20% – Players become mentally sharper, resisting pressure-induced errors.

Below this list were three grayed-out skills, waiting to be unlocked.

Skills (Currently Locked):

Coil Maneuver (Grayed Out) – Unavailable.

Fang Sequence (Grayed Out) – Unavailable.

Venom Surge (Grayed Out) – Unavailable.

Victor smirked as he read the final note: Buff Bonuses can be toggled on or off. Activating consumes mental energy from the manager but unlocks full potential for the players within Sidewinder Drift. Use wisely.

The next morning, Victor stood by the training ground, watching his players run drills. They were still riding the high of their victory, but he could see the cracks—moments of hesitation, mistimed passes. They weren't ready for the level he envisioned.

"Alright," he said, stepping forward. "Let's see how far we can push this."

With a subtle gesture, Victor activated the buff. The notebook, hidden in his coat pocket, grew warm, and the players' movements changed almost instantly.

Quinn and Allen began rotating with a rhythm they hadn't achieved before, their runs intertwining smoothly. Akins and Templeton widened their range, slipping through defensive gaps like water through cracks. Even McFadzean, usually the skeptic, found himself playing with a newfound sharpness.

The players didn't know why, but the drills suddenly felt… easier. Passes connected without effort, spaces on the pitch seemed to reveal themselves, and mistakes became rarities.

"Boss, are we just having a good day, or—" Templeton began, only to be cut off by Quinn. "Doesn't matter. Just keep going."

Victor watched, his expression unreadable but his mind racing. The buff wasn't just effective—it was transformative. He could almost feel their next opponent crumbling under the weight of a team playing at a completely different level.

And yet, he smirked—a smirk that didn't go unnoticed.

"What's with the look, boss?" Templeton asked, half-jokingly, as he jogged past.

Victor said nothing. He didn't need to. The players pushed themselves harder, as if that smirk alone was a challange.

At the pub, word of Burton's training progress began to spread as fans pieced together rumors from club insiders and local journalists.

"They're saying Kane's up to something new," Martin muttered, his pint barely touched. "Training's sharper. Players are more focused. Whatever he's doing, it's working."

Liam nodded eagerly. "It's like they're leveling up. My mate works near the ground—says the drills look completely different now. Players look… faster."

Gary rolled his eyes. "Fast don't win games. You need structure. Fleetwood's got plenty of that, and Kane still squeezed through by luck."

"Luck?" Liam scoffed. "You weren't at the back of the stands. It's not luck—it's magic."

As the day drew to a close, Victor stood alone on the training ground, the field empty save for the fading light. He pulled the notebook from his jacket and flipped to the next page. The faint glow returned, outlining new diagrams and possibilities.

The buff bonuses had worked. The players were adapting. Victor imagined their next opponent celebrating an early lead. He could already see their expressions shifting as Burton activated the buff mid-match. The opposing team wouldn't just lose—they'd be dismantled.

His smirk returned.