MTL - Red Moscow - Chapter 56 Positional warfare (Part 1)

Eric Maddox, a 70-year-old American retired football coach once hailed for his tactical brilliance, now forgotten by time—closes his eyes for what he believes is a normal nap in his quiet Florida retirement home.But when he opens them, he's not staring at ceiling tiles, instead, he's on a touchline.Wearing boots in the rain.With players running on the pitch, fans jeering behind barriers, and the smell of cheap turf pellets in the air.“What the hell is this?”He’s twenty-five again, but it’s not Earth. It’s a world where football reigns supreme. A world where the sport is religion, its practitioners, deities in cleats. Coaches are revered, players are worshipped, and even the kit man gets treated like royalty.But there's one catch: none of it is familiar. The clubs, the players, the leagues, the competitions, and even the currency—they're all different. Alien. Like waking up in a dream where the rules are the same, but the language is foreign.As if that wasn’t enough, the body he’s now in? A youth coach with a laughable win record, a looming divorce, and a measly fifty thousand in the bank that his ex-wife is fighting tooth and nail to take. All of it.Just when the spiral seems inevitable, a monotone chime pierces the noise.[Initiating Golden Finger…][…45%… 75%… 100%][System Integration Complete.][Welcome, host. You are now bound to the Pro Manager System. Objective: Dominate the Football World. A new era begins]From washed-up has-been to chosen one of destiny, Eric Maddox is about to trade arthritis pills for tactical boards, and shuffleboard for Prestigious Cup glory.Because in this world, tactics are power.And on this touchline, he’s about to become a god.

He called me his ruin. Then he made me one.Alpha Shiloh's rejection wasn’t just a scar—it was a betrayal. He left me shattered. Broken. And I had to rebuild myself in silence.I almost forgot the way his touch once burned like salvation.Now he’s back.Not to beg forgiveness. To bargain. A deadly mission, he says. He promises freedom.But then presence ignites my wolf into a frenzy. She thrashes, desperate to claim him again. But I remember the coldness in his eyes when he exiled me. The way the pack turned their backs as I crawled into the wilderness, half-dead and wholly broken. Hate simmers hotter than desire.Yet here I am, bargaining with the devil who shattered me. Every moment we share is a lie. He doesn’t know about the shadows I’ve fed, the truth I’ve buried.Or the child.One whisper of its existence, and the pack will paint the forest with my blood.But the closer we get to completing his mission, the harder it is to hide… from him, or from the part of me that still craves him.Freedom has a price.So does vengeance.And I’m not sure which will destroy me first.

As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be.

In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough.

―

[Excerpt]

“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

―

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