CHAPTER 134: A NEW ERA

Saturday afternoon at Oakwell.

Michael Sterling stood in the tunnel. He looked at his team.

It was a new era. Finn Riley was gone. Diego Nunez was in the stands with his leg in a cast eating a hot dog.

And in the center of the line stood Benjamin Pavard.

The World Cup winner looked different from the rest of the Misfits. His kit was perfectly tucked in. His hair was perfect. He smelled like expensive soap.

"Benjamin," Michael said. "Are you ready for the Premier League?"

Pavard smiled. It was a cool calm smile. "Football is football Boss. The ball is round. The goal is square. I am ready."

"Spurs are fast," Michael warned. "Son Heung min is rapid. Maddison is clever. Do not let them breathe."

"I will suffocate them with elegance," Pavard promised.

The referee blew the whistle.

They walked out.

The roar of the Fortress was deafening. They were singing a new song.

"Oooooh Benjamin Pavard! He drinks the vodka! He plays the guard!"

"They think I drink vodka?" Pavard asked Isaiah King. "I only drink wine."

"Just roll with it Benji," Isaiah laughed. "They think I eat pizza for breakfast."

"You do eat pizza for breakfast," Kai Sora pointed out from behind his sunglasses.

"Details," Isaiah shrugged.

KICKOFF

The game started well.

Pavard was a Rolls Royce in a demolition derby.

Minute 10.

Tottenham attacked. James Maddison tried a through ball. It was a clever pass.

But Pavard was there. He did not tackle. He did not slide. He just intercepted the ball with his chest and calmly passed it to Kenji Sato.

"Magnifique!" Arthur Milton shouted from the bench. "He reads the game like a book!"

Minute 20.

Barnsley were confident. They were playing with ten men in the opposition half.

Kai Sora and Arda Guler were spinning The Carousel.

Kai dropped deep. Arda went high.

Kai played a ball over the top to Isaiah King.

Isaiah controlled it. He was one on one with Destiny Udogie.

Isaiah did a step over. He cut inside. He shot.

SAVE!

Vicario the Spurs keeper made a great save.

"We are close!" Michael yelled clapping his hands. "Keep pushing!"

But then the shadow fell over the game.

It started with a foul.

Minute 30.

Cristian Romero the Tottenham defender went through the back of Arda Guler. It was a nasty tackle. Arda rolled on the floor holding his ankle.

The referee waved play on.

"HEY!" Shaun Higgins roared. The Butcher ran at the referee. "Are you blind?! He killed him!"

The referee did not like being shouted at by a giant. He showed Higgins a yellow card.

"Calm down Shaun!" Michael shouted. "We need you on the pitch!"

Higgins was angry. He was missing his partner Diego. Without Diego to share the aggression Higgins felt he had to be twice as angry.

Minute 38.

Disaster struck.

Barnsley lost the ball high up the pitch. Tottenham countered.

Son Heung min got the ball. He was fast. He was sprinting towards the goal.

Pavard was covering the right side. The middle was open.

Higgins was the last man.

He knew he was beaten. Son was too fast.

But Higgins was the Butcher. He did not let people run past him.

He made a decision. A bad decision.

He lunged.

He tried to get the ball. But he was late.

CRUNCH.

He took Son out. It was a rugby tackle.

The stadium went silent.

The referee ran over. He did not hesitate. He reached into his back pocket.

RED CARD.

Shaun Higgins was off.

Higgins stood there. He looked at Michael. He looked like a dog that had chewed the furniture.

"I had to Boss," Higgins mouthed.

He walked off the pitch. He kicked the water bottle so hard it exploded.

Barnsley were down to ten men.

"Tactical change!" Michael screamed. "Pavard! You are the captain now! Organize the defense!"

Pavard nodded. He looked calm. He moved Kenji to right back. He pulled Arda deeper.

"We hold the line," Pavard shouted. "Nobody passes!"

Minute 40.

Tottenham smelled blood. They attacked with eleven men against ten.

They pushed Barnsley back into their own box.

But the Misfits held on. Sam Jones made two saves. Pavard headed everything clear.

"We can survive this," Arthur whispered. "Get to halftime. Regroup. Park the bus."

But they did not get to halftime.

Minute 45 plus 2.

The game was in stoppage time.

Isaiah King had the ball on the wing. He was frustrated. He was isolated.

Cristian Romero came to tackle him again.

Romero was clever. He nipped at Isaiah’s ankles. He pulled his shirt. He whispered things in his ear.

"You are just a boy," Romero whispered. "Go back to the playground."

Isaiah stopped. He turned around.

The Vengeance trait in the System was flashing red. But this time it was not a good vengeance. It was a blind rage.

"Shut up!" Isaiah shouted.

He pushed Romero.

It was not a punch. It was just a shove. A two handed shove to the chest.

But Romero was a professional. He knew exactly what to do.

Romero threw himself backwards. He held his face like he had been shot by a sniper. He rolled on the grass screaming.

The Tottenham players surrounded the referee. "Violent conduct! Look at him! He attacked him!"

Isaiah stood there. He looked confused. "I barely touched him! He is acting!"

The referee looked at his assistant. The assistant nodded.

The referee walked over to Isaiah.

He reached into his pocket.

RED CARD.

The Fortress gasped.

Two red cards. In one half.

"NO!" Michael screamed running to the fourth official. "You cannot do that! He dived! Romero dived!"

"The decision is final," the official said coldly.

Isaiah King looked at the red card. His eyes filled with tears.

He looked at Michael.

"Boss... I..."

"Get off the pitch Isaiah," Michael said his voice hollow.

Isaiah walked off. He pulled his shirt over his head. He disappeared down the tunnel.

Barnsley were down to nine men.

Against Tottenham Hotspur.

For forty five minutes.

MINUTE 46.

The referee blew the whistle for halftime.

The players collapsed on the pitch.

They looked broken. They looked at each other with wide terrified eyes.

How do you play football with nine men against eleven?

How do you survive?

Michael stood on the touchline. He felt the vibration in his pocket.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[MATCH STATUS: CRITICAL FAILURE]

[WIN PROBABILITY: 0.1%]

[OBJECTIVE UPDATED: AVOID HUMILIATION]

Avoid humiliation. That was the goal now. Not winning. Just not losing by ten goals.

Pavard walked over to Michael. The World Cup winner did not look panicked. He looked angry.

"This is not football," Pavard spat. "This is a circus. The referee is a clown."

"Benjamin," Michael said grabbing his shoulders. "Listen to me. We are dead. The world thinks we are dead."

"I am not dead," Pavard said.

"Good. Because I need you to do something impossible. I need you to be the manager on the pitch. We play a 4-3-0 formation. No strikers. We build a wall. A blue wall."

Pavard looked at the team.

He looked at Kenji who was breathing hard. He looked at Kai who was shaking his head. He looked at Arda who looked lost.

"I will build the wall," Pavard promised. "But Boss... nine men? It is suicide."

"It is Barnsley," Michael said. "We like suicide missions."

They walked into the tunnel.

The crowd was booing the referee. The noise was angry and toxic.

Michael walked into the dressing room.

Higgins was sitting in the corner with a towel over his head. Isaiah was crying in the shower.

It was a disaster.

The unbeaten run was over. The dream was cracking.

Michael looked at the empty space where Diego Nunez should be. He looked at the empty space where Finn Riley used to be.

He realized then that the Premier League did not care about fairy tales. It did not care about Misfits.

It just wanted to crush you.

Michael took a deep breath.

"Okay," Michael said to the nine men remaining. "Everyone sit down. We have fifteen minutes to figure out how to stop a massacre."

He looked at Kai Sora.

"Kai. Do you have any energy left?"

Kai lowered his sunglasses. His eyes were serious.

"I have energy Boss. But I think I need to run today. A lot."

"Yes Kai," Michael said grimly. "Today... everyone runs."