Dynasty Awakening: Building My Own Football Empire-Chapter 280: Awakening

Kaito Tanaka squared up on the touchline, turning his attention to Kyle Walker on the defensive flank. The England international had an arrogant expression on his face, likely built up from being told he was the fastest defender in the world since a young age.

The problem with these elite players was that they always had a shock when realizing that there was always a bigger engine to race, or an even faster hamstring waiting around the corner.

’Vinicius Junior is the only one who can burn my pace. So hurry up and pass it back to the defense.’

Walker loaded up his stance and prepared to body-check the winger once again, a victorious expression already nestled upon his features.

Kaito felt as if time had slowed down, noticing the effects of the Game Changer skill activate on its own. The System seemed to think that this was a turning point in the title race, of which it was not wrong.

A smirk appeared on Kaito’s lips as he could clearly see the shift in Walker’s weight, feeling his titanium-reinforced muscles tense up thanks to the Elixir.

ZOOM!

Kaito sent all of his power into the sprint, digging his studs into the turf and creating a wonderful sound of tearing grass that reverberated through the sideline. He seemed to be the only one to react as he knocked the ball ten yards ahead and began to gallop past the defender.

He almost felt a little bad for the speed merchant on the flank. This defeat could have a positive or negative impact on him, the rest would be up to how he handled the dust.

"Yes!" Michael Sterling pumped his fist in celebration, watching the purple blur seemingly disappear down the wing.

"VAMOS! Nice legs Samurai!" Diego Nunez called out from the bench, flexing his bald head in his direction.

The rest of the Barnsley dugout broke into celebration, hooting and hollering as Kaito made his victory lap towards the penalty box.

Manchester City’s bench was dead silent, still unable to process the whole series of events. To them, this was the first time they’d seen their captain be burned for pace by anyone but Mbappe.

Erling Haaland, who had been disinterested just moments before, waiting for service, was now standing at attention with his robot eyes focused on Kaito’s figure.

’That sprint...’

His mind replayed the entire scene over and over again. Right from the beginning, Kaito’s form was perfect with no unnecessary movements, allowing him to use all of his recovery speed without any loss of balance.

If it was just this it wouldn’t have been as impressive. Yet the perfect accuracy and control to keep the ball in play while running at Mach 10 was purely masterful.

It was very possible that it could have been a fluke, however Haaland did not believe that was the case. He could instinctively tell that this person was a monster.

Haaland felt his apathy vanish, finally feeling his CPU processor beat in anticipation.

"He’s fast. Like me."

Kaito didn’t even need to watch the goalkeeper to know the angle was open. He could tell just by how the crowd went silent in addition to the sound of Ederson panicking. Now that he thought about it, that was probably the best run of his life.

BANG.

He smashed the ball into the roof of the net.

He finally made it back to the corner flag where Victor Osimhen was waiting with his hand held out for a celebratory high five.

"Nice turbo, Ace." Victor said with a grin.

"Heh."

Kaito let out a chuckle and headed back to the restart position. While assisting was still his number 1 love in football, he couldn’t help but admit that there was a certain satisfaction that came with silencing the Etihad.

The City center-back Ruben Dias, who was already despairing, overheard Victor call the winger ’Ace’ and almost cried out in shock.

He turned around and asked "Why did you call him Ace? Is that his nickname?"

Victor looked over at the defender and couldn’t help but grin.

"No no, he’s our secret weapon from the bench."

Seeing the look of shock painted on Dias’s face as he said those words brought a vengeful grin onto his face. They had been led by the nose by this possession-obsessed team, so it felt good to be able to hit back in such fashion.

Michael Sterling couldn’t help but send a vicious smirk towards Pep Guardiola who was still doing his best to keep the plain, philosophical smile on his face. However, he could see some cracks which were brought to the surface after Kaito’s goal.

"Nice goal Kaito."

The manager seemed pleased as Kaito walked past the technical area, even holding out his fist for a fist bump to which Kaito obliged.

"Save your legs, I’ll have you track back in the final ten minutes."

"Hmm?" Kaito suddenly felt a bout of excitement.

’I never expected him to let me defend the lead in the very first title decider...’ He thought inwardly. However, he definitely wouldn’t complain about getting stuck in, no matter the circumstances.

"No worries Boss, I’ll be ready."

He got back into position only to receive a round of praise from the rest of the team. Vladimir and the other defenders too gave him words of encouragement.

The only person who seemed a little out of sorts was Arthur Milton who was currently clutching an empty bag of jelly babies on the bench. It seemed he was already told he’d be giving the half-time team talk if Michael lost his voice screaming.

However, he still nodded in Kaito’s direction.

"Diego, come help me prepare the bus."

Diego was unresponsive, looking as if his soul had already left his body and returned to a pizza shop in Naples.

’Maybe I should let him have a break.’ Michael thought, feeling a little bad for the bald man.

"Sergio, would you mind helping me out?" Michael asked politely to his captain.

"Ah sure, Boss."

With that, the two disappeared to go organize the defensive shape.

On the field, Kyle Walker still seemed to be frazzled thanks to Kaito’s amazing goal. His positioning was beginning to lose its sharpness, allowing Mateo Vega to finally put a pass through the lines.

Unfortunately, the ball was sent straight to Rodri in midfield and intercepted on the fly.

"Tch, I gave up a good opportunity."

"Don’t mind! Switch on!"

The Barnsley fans in the away end heard the sound of Michael’s voice cutting through the air, causing a few City fans to jump in fright.

"PRESS!"

Once again it sounded, allowing them to finally pinpoint the source of the noise.

"Who is that guy? And why is he screaming louder than the PA system?"

"KILL THE SPACE!"

"W-What the hell..."

The sound was so loud that the spectators were having difficulty focusing on the match in front of them. Since the majority of them were polite theatre-goers, seeing Michael’s fierce expression while swinging his arms like a windmill was enough to deter anyone from asking him to politely stop.

Even the few stewards who had decided to stand near the dugout were intimidated by the sight, choosing to do their best to ignore it.

"Half time. Changeover."

The first half ended once more with a score from the away team, keeping the game at 0-1. Phil Foden, the City playmaker, trudged out of the tunnel with some annoyance on his face, feeling humiliated by the 3 interceptions he just suffered.

Since he was the Player of the Year favorite, expectations were high. But something about the Japanese winger’s face when he sprinted past him pissed him off.

"Arteta, how are the boys’ legs?" Pep Guardiola asked his assistant (who wasn’t Arteta anymore, but Pep called everyone Arteta when he was stressed), deciding whether or not it was time for a change of tactics.

In the midst of putting on his coat, the assistant turned and replied confidently. "Erling’s still got plenty of fight left in him."

"Mmm good. Let’s not let them get any more breaks, I’ll figure something else out for the final half." He said mysteriously.

Pep’s eyes were focused on the man in the distance who had been screaming away for the entire half. He had noticed it from the beginning.

Each scream that Michael performed was timed perfectly with the press trap triggered by the Barnsley midfield. He was visualizing and adjusting it perfectly, despite being so chaotic on the sideline.

’Looks like he’s eager to win the league.’ The bald genius thought, rubbing the stubble on his chin in contemplation.

"Just another 45 minutes or so and I’ll be done with my mission for the season," Michael mumbled to himself.

He found it easier to scream when watching the players run, it helped him visualize and calibrate his mental tactics with the physical fatigue.

Unaware of the misunderstanding his vocal practice had brought (people thought he was insane), Michael continued to do the same with Arthur handing him water bottles.

Despite shouting well over 100 commands this game, Michael still persisted.

’There’s no way I’m giving up my chance... Not today.’

Channeling his inner strength, the chaotic manager began his walk to the tunnel and sent a wink flying towards the open mouth of the fourth official.

BEEP.

The whistle blew to end the break. Michael didn’t even have to move from his spot and was able to stand tall to complete the first phase of the Dynasty.

"Out."

"Second half! Nice work Boss."

’Yes! This is good.’

Michael was all smiles as he went back to the technical area. He only needed to survive a couple more attacks and they would be on the podium next.

Luck seemed to be on their side as the next City attack also failed easily. De Bruyne sent the ball flying straight up into the air and into the waiting gloves of Jan Visser.

"Nice work Jan!"

The Barnsley dugout cheered in response to the play.

"45 minutes! One more goal and then it’s party time."

Even the players on the field were getting into it, eager to turn the title in their favor.

There were only 2 people on the Barnsley bench who seemed out of sorts, not matching the fervent atmosphere.

One was Arthur who had somehow managed to make his way back to the dugout after barely surviving Michael’s half-time hair-dryer treatment (which was actually a compliment, but loud). Judging by how pale his face was, he looked as if he had seen a ghost.

The other was Sarah, who was watching from the VIP box and currently had a pouting look on her face.

’Here I thought we would be able to celebrate at half-time... Stupid Michael.’

She wasn’t really upset, just a little disappointed. It was one thing if he was focused on the game, but he had ignored her text right after the goal without so much as an emoji.

In a huff, she decided to go look for Kenji.

Leaving the bustling VIP lounge, she walked over to the open balcony and coincidentally saw the man she was looking for waving his checkbook. His gaze was focused intently on the field as he continued to calculate the Champions League revenue.

Sarah’s face softened considerably.

’He must want to profit so badly.’ She thought, inwardly forgiving him for ditching her earlier.

Meanwhile, Michael was busy counting down his remaining minutes in his head, feeling his vocal cords begin to get heavy from fatigue.

Even though it had only been a few hours since he began the final part of the Impossible Fortress mission, he could already feel the massive increase in the influence of his team.

"Hey Boss. I finally tracked you down," Arthur said, feeling his stomach flutter a little (from too much sugar).

Michael was so focused that he didn’t even hear his soft voice.

"Throw in. Change!"

The players on the field began to head back to their defensive shape.

"Ahem." Arthur cleared his throat, feeling a little awkward.

Michael turned around from the pitch, finally noticing him. His eyes went wide since he wasn’t expecting him to be holding the tactical board upside down. He felt his heart skip a beat seeing how stressed he looked.

His fearful eyes were staring at him curiously, leaving Michael feeling almost out of breath.

"Hey, sorry Arthur. I was a little preoccupied with destroying Pep’s legacy." He admitted, rubbing the back of his head and smiling awkwardly.

Despite vowing that he would treat Arthur as a top assistant, there was still a deep part of him that found it difficult. Perhaps it was the League One version of himself that kept rising to the surface, eroding at his rationality.

After all, he had the biggest dependency on this jelly-baby-eating man in his previous life.