CHAPTER 113: A BUSINESS PLAN

Apex United players milked the victory for all it was worth.

Ethan just stood on the sideline, soaking it all in, a serene, deeply satisfied smile on his face. He had faced his brilliant rival and won.

His team had faced a moment of adversity and responded with a performance of breathtaking, chaotic beauty.

It was a good day to be the gaffer.

The dressing room was a happy, humming hive of activity.

The wild, post-match celebrations had given way to a calm, professional buzz.

The players were rehydrating, getting treatment from the physios, and quietly basking in the glow of a hard-earned, dramatic victory.

"That bicycle kick, Vik," Josh Sargent was saying to the young Danish striker, a look of genuine awe on his face.

"I’m a 30-year-old professional striker, and I don’t think I’ve ever even attempted that in a real match. You’re 16. It’s just not fair."

Viktor just shrugged, a shy but proud smile on his face. "The ball was just... there."

"And you, skip," David Kerrigan said, clapping Grant Hanley on the back as the captain was getting his ankle taped. "Your own goal was a moment of pure, comedic genius. You meant to do that, right? To lull them into a false sense of security?"

Hanley just glared at him, a look that would have withered a lesser man. "Don’t you have some boots to clean, you little menace?"

Ethan clapped his hands, and the room turned to him. "Lads," he began, his voice ringing with a quiet pride. "That was a test. A huge test of character. And you passed with flying colors. We were brilliant, we were chaotic, and in the end, we were winners. I’m proud of every single one of you."

He looked around the room, at his team of heroes, misfits, and burgeoning superstars. "We’re in the next round of the cup. We’re still top of the league. But we don’t rest. We don’t get complacent. On Monday, we go again. Now, get showered. You’ve earned a day off."

He logged off, the sound of his players’ happy, confident chatter a soothing melody in his ears.

He sat up in the pod, the real world feeling warm, peaceful, and wonderfully simple.

The high-stakes drama of the "Cheese Aisle Derby" was already a fond, slightly surreal memory.

He went downstairs, his stomach rumbling.

He found a plate of leftover pasta waiting for him in the kitchen, a small, handwritten note from his mom beside it: ’Heard you won. Well done, honey! Don’t stay up too late.’

He smiled, a familiar, warm feeling of gratitude washing over him.

He sat at the quiet kitchen table, eating his pasta and scrolling idly through his phone. He was about to just head to bed, the long, emotionally draining day having finally caught up with him, when a video in his recommended feed caught his eye.

The thumbnail was a slick, professionally designed image. It showed the iconic, holographic logo of the FCG, with the bold, white text:

"So you think you can be a Gaffer? The SECRET to making REAL MONEY in FCG!"

Ethan frowned.

He had assumed the ’Sponsorship Marketplace’ was the only way to earn real-world income. He was intrigued. He tapped on the video.

The screen filled with the face of a young, impossibly enthusiastic American streamer he’d never seen before.

He was sitting in a high-tech gaming chair, a virtual FCG pitch shimmering behind him.

"WHAT’S UP, Gaffer Gang! It’s your boy, TactiCool, coming at you with another EPIC FCG deep-dive!" the streamer began, his voice a whirlwind of practiced, high-energy hype.

"I’ve been getting a ton of questions from you guys. ’TactiCool, how do I get my team to the top?’ ’TactiCool, what’s the best formation for a lower-league side?’ But the biggest question I get is this: ’TactiCool, can I actually MAKE a living playing this game?’ And the answer, my friends, is a resounding YES!"

Ethan leaned closer to his phone, completely captivated.

"Forget the Sponsorship Marketplace for a second," TactiCool continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"That’s for the big boys, the GridironGurus of the world. But there’s another way. A secret way that Aetheria Dynamics doesn’t advertise. I’m talking about the FCG Creator Program. I’m talking about YouTube!"

He brought up a screen-recording of the FCG interface. "You see this little icon in the corner of your manager’s office? The one that looks like a little camera? That’s not just for taking screenshots, my friends. That is a fully integrated, 4K, 60-frames-per-second recording and live-streaming suite!"

He demonstrated, showing how a user could record their matches, their training sessions, even their transfer negotiations, all from within the game.

He showed how the suite included a built-in editing program, allowing managers to create highlight reels, tactical analysis videos, and behind-the-scenes documentaries.

"The FCG world is a content goldmine!" TactiCool exclaimed, his eyes gleaming.

"Think about it! Every match is a story! Every wonderkid is a character! You can create a YouTube channel, build a community, and monetize it! Ad revenue, channel memberships, merchandise... it’s all there!"

Ethan’s mind was racing. He thought about his own journey.

The impossible comebacks. The ridiculous goals. The derbies against Leo. The showdown with Maya. It wasn’t just a series of football matches; it was a season of television.

"And the best part?" TactiCool said, leaning in for his final, killer point.

"Aetheria Dynamics encourages it. They have a built-in system that pays a ’Content Bonus’ directly to your in-game club budget based on your channel’s real-world viewership. The more people who watch your story, the more money your club gets. You’re not just a manager; you’re a storyteller. You’re not just building a team; you’re building a brand."

The video ended with a flashy outro and a link to a "How to Start Your FCG YouTube Channel" tutorial.

Ethan just sat there, in the quiet of his kitchen, a half-eaten plate of pasta in front of him, his mind a supernova of new, brilliant, and utterly terrifying possibilities.

He had a team of lovable, chaotic, giant-killing misfits. He had a cast of characters—the stoic captain, the veteran engine, the SSS-Rank magician, the Danish prodigy, the Irish agent of chaos. He had rivalries, he had drama, he had heart.

He didn’t just have a football team. He had the best story in the entire Football Coaching Game.

And now, he had a way to tell it to the world.

A way to build a following, to create a brand, and to earn the money that could change his family’s life forever.

The wager against GridironGuru was a high-stakes gamble. This... this was a business plan.