The floodlights flickered on, casting a soft white glow over the small stadium. People could see Mourinho and his staff standing on the sidelines, arms crossed, quietly watching as the players took their positions. The friendly match was about to begin.

"Jarred, look!"

Richard shifted the little boy in his arms, gently lifting him higher so he could see. In the distance, City were preparing to face Bellmare Hiratsuka in their first friendly match in Japan.

Little Jarred blinked, his round eyes reflecting the bright stadium lights. He pointed his tiny finger toward the pitch, his face lighting up with pure wonder.

Behind them stood the rest of the family—his father, mother, brother, and his sister-in-law with her family. They chatted among themselves, excited and lively. Richard, however, stayed a little apart. He wasn't particularly close to his sister-in-law's side of the family, mostly because work kept him too busy to build that connection.

"Ai~ ai~!" he mumbled, his voice soft and clumsy.

Richard chuckled, adjusting his grip as the boy squirmed with excitement.

"Ball," he said softly, a rare warmth in his voice. "That's football. Not 'ai.'"

"Ai~!"

"Hahaha."

Richard laughed as Jarred giggled, clapping his small hands, completely captivated by the glowing field and the moving people—like it was the most magical thing he had ever seen.

Hiratsuka Stadium was really just a small stadium. It was typical of J.League venues, where the stands sat very close to the pitch to create an intimate and lively atmosphere. Usually, only around 40% of the stadium would be filled, since their beloved club had just finished bottom of the J1 League and been relegated.

This was one of the lowest points in the club's history. If not for his gentleman's agreement with Nakata, Richard would not have agreed to make this club the first opponent of their preseason tour.

Today, it was completely full. After all, it wasn't every day that they had the chance to face an English club like Manchester City. The main backer, Fujita Corporation, was on high alert. Richard Maddox—the youngest British billionaire—was coming to Japan, and that meant there could be no room for mistakes. They personally stepped in to accommodate Richard and his family, ensuring everything was handled perfectly. Extra security was arranged, along with a private tour guide for the duration of his stay.

Richard accepted their arrangements with quiet satisfaction, and that was precisely why he had brought his entire family with him to Japan.

Before the match began, Richard had already made a request to Mourinho. After some back-and-forth discussions with all parties, everything was quietly arranged. There was, in a way, a script already in place—an understanding between both sides about how certain moments in the match would unfold.

"Minasama, o-matase itashimashita…" (Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for waiting…)

Conversations faded.

"He began his journey here…"

"And now, he returns…"

Heads turned at first as people confused.

"The one who had carried Japanese football onto the world stage..."

But then recognition hit. The man they had been waiting for. It spread almost instantly, like a spark catching dry grass.

One person stood. Another followed.

And then—CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

"Hidetoshi Nakata senshu desu!"

From the tunnel, Nakata stepped out. He walked onto the pitch with the same calm expression he always carried, his eyes scanning the field for just a second before lifting toward the stands. He then raised one hand—a small wave.

The crowd responded immediately—cheers rising, some fans standing, others calling his name.

"Nakata!"

"Nakata!"

He gave a slight nod, then another brief wave, before making his way toward the sideline, where a microphone was already waiting.

A staff member stepped forward, offering it to him.

"Hisashiburi ni… kono sutajiamu ni tatete, ureshii desu."

To an outsider, it might have seemed confusing. Why were the locals so enthusiastic about Nakata's return? Why did the entire stadium react as if a legend had just stepped onto the pitch? And more than that—why would Bellmare Hiratsuka allow a 22-year-old to be welcomed like this, with such reverence?

The answer was simple.

After the 1998 FIFA World Cup, even though the results weren't great, everything changed. Japan gained global attention, and the media began promoting football heavily. Schools pushed youth development, companies invested in clubs, and fans strongly supported their local teams. Everything aligned, and football had essentially become something like a national project. For Bellmare, who had just gone through a disastrous season, Nakata's presence once again could revitalize the club and give the fans renewed belief that they could rise again.

Richard clapped his hands as well with little Jarred happily, both of them listening to the Japanese speech they didn't fully understand.

"Ouen arigatou gozaimasu."

The entire stadium applauded after Nakata finished his speech. Seeing this, Richard was satisfied. He had instructed that 90% of the jersey and merchandise production in Manchester City stores in Tokyo be replaced with Nakata-related items. With almost everything now centered around Nakata, he felt confident it would all sell out after today.

Done with that, it's time for the friendly match.

On the pitch, Ronaldo rolled his shoulders, adjusting his captain's armband. Even though this was a friendly match, he had to show some dignity. Deep down, however, he didn't take the game too seriously.

He couldn't help but glance to his right and left.

To his left: Joe Cole.

To his right: Okocha

The soon 18-year-old Joe Cole started, replacing Ronaldinho, who was currently in the reconditioning phase for the pubalgia injury he had suffered the previous season.

Although for him Ronaldinho had also shown almost the same level of importance, Ronaldo himself had come to his own conclusion. Because the three roles—ST, LW, and RW—in Manchester City's current strategy were crucial, it was necessary to find a substitute each.

The senior had already given the instruction. For the young player, the intention was clear. For example, like Joe Cole—he was clearly very talented, but he lacked confidence in training. He also understood that. He felt it was normal for any player to face competition and doubt at the beginning of their career. Hadn't it been the same for him?

Back then, when he had just returned from injury, things were difficult, but he firmly believed that he wasn't worse than anyone and would definitely succeed there without needing to leave to gain so-called experience. Confidence was truly important for a player. If a player wasn't confident in his abilities and didn't believe he could overcome any hurdle, he would sooner or later encounter a wall he couldn't surpass.

Still, he liked the young man very much. Contrary to geniuses who were arrogant and overconfident, Joe Cole was humble and polite. He played without being overly flashy off the pitch. Though he was not a very vocal leader, with the right guidance, he might truly succeed. So before the match, he gave them insight into how he would play and how they should play.

"You understand?"

"You'll play on the left. But since Nakata rarely pushes forward, you'll need to cover the middle and—"

For Joe Cole, although he didn't know what tactics they would use in the future, what was certain for this match was his role. He was assigned to the left, but instructed to drift into the center and take on a false nine role—one of the positions he was most familiar with. It felt like a signal, hinting at the role he might be expected to play this season.

"Bell-ma-re! Bell-ma-re! Susume!"

The chant from the Bellmare supporters was the first thing heard from the City bench.

Mourinho's eyes lit up.

This was good.

He wasn't afraid of facing spirited teams. The more ambitious the opponents were, the more they could help his squad grow rapidly. At the same time, their fighting spirit allowed for greater tactical flexibility in his defensive counterattacks. Conversely, he dreaded encountering teams that played conservatively, as this would limit his team's opportunities to express themselves in attack.

"Oi!"

"Danger!""Yabai…!"

A wave of gasps followed as local fans reacted to the challenge, some clapping in appreciation of the defensive intervention, others reacting with concern at the sudden loss of possession and the intensity of the tackle.

Of course, something realistic happened—not as expected.

PHWEEE~

In the first thirty seconds, it was Bellmare who took an unexpected shot from outside the box. Though it missed the target significantly, it served as a warning. In contrast, City remained composed. In a hurried clearance, Lucio inadvertently passed the ball back to an opposition player, forcing Nakata to commit a foul to stop the attack.

"Oi!"

"Danger!"

"Yabai…!"

A wave of gasps followed as local fans reacted to the challenge, some clapping in appreciation of the defensive intervention, others reacting with concern at the sudden loss of possession and the intensity of the tackle.

Within three minutes, Bellmare's high pressing left City gasping for breath. The fans in the stands were visibly excited, and the City supporters who were visiting Japan to watch the match appeared noticeably anxious.

"What's happening?"

"Are we going to lose?!"

Standing calmly on the sidelines, Mourinho kept his hands in his suit pockets. Deep down, he felt more excited than worried.

He had mentioned Bellmare's high pressing during the preparation meetings. After all, even if they lost 10–0, Bellmare would not truly lose anything, as that was the expectation. As a result, they played freely and without hesitation. In fact, some players even became more individualistic, looking to make an impression on the pitch.

The players surely took note. The pace in these matches had been noticeably slow. Even when Bellmare pressed hard, it was limited mostly to high balls, while City decided to sit back and play carefully. City's players simply needed time to adapt after a long vacation. Once they steadied their minds and adjusted, everything would fall into place.

In the gritty J.League, which was still developing, set pieces became a reliable scoring method. So when they won a free kick in the attacking third, most of their players surged forward.

The ball was lofted into the box, and amidst a scramble for headers, Terry warded off a Bellmare player, leaping to powerfully clear the ball from the box and directing it deliberately toward the left flank at the back.

The ball bounced on the grass, and just before Bellmare players could seize it, Joe Cole lightly flicked it forward with his right foot. The ball soared in a graceful arc over the Bellmare defenders' heads. He then sprinted forward, finding himself in ample space.

At that moment, Richard's right hand shot out from his pocket, aggressively waving toward the Bellmare goal as he shouted, "Go for it! No dilly-dallying!"

When he shouted suddenly, he felt a sudden jolt of panic in his chest as he glanced down at his arms. Richard froze, realizing he had been gripping little Jarred in his hand all along.

He was startled by his own shout and looked like he was about to cry!

"Oh no!"

On the pitch, honestly, Mourinho didn't need to give directions. He felt that City's attacking trio already knew what to do at this moment. Ronaldo and Okocha could guide Joe Cole, and for the talented Cole, he believed it would come down to instinct. So Joe Cole was charging forward with the ball.

Ronaldo and Okocha stretched their positions, running forward in a layered manner. Meanwhile, the midfielder Stanković was also rapidly advancing from behind.

The fans in the stands erupted in cheers, witnessing an exhilarating scene.

In the blink of an eye, just seconds earlier, Bellmare's free kick had posed a threat to City's goal, and now City's four players were surging forward like athletes on their respective tracks.

Two Bellmare players lagged behind, and as Joe Cole approached the halfway line, he launched a long pass.

The ball soared high, crossing the entire pitch as it flew to the right.

A switch play!

Unmarked, Okocha was perfectly positioned to receive the ball. However, executing such a long pass at high speed demanded exceptional technical skill from the player. It would be a real pity to waste such a golden opportunity. City's fans fervently prayed that Okocha would successfully reach the long pass.

Standing on the sidelines, Richard's heart pounded. What unfolded before him was the perfect embodiment of his counterattacking strategy!

The players surged forward in a rapid counterattack. The ball carrier didn't dwell on the ball, swiftly advancing into the opponent's half, leaving the opponents no time to organize their defense and making it difficult for them to track back.

He had faith in Okocha. If Joe Cole's pass were to miss its mark, no one could blame him, but the trajectory was perfectly on point. As one of the most technically skilled Nigerian players of his generation, Okocha could control the ball even at full speed with ease, provided he executed it properly.

Sure enough, as he sprinted down the right channel, he gently controlled the ball with the arch of his right foot, perfectly cushioning the impact. The embarrassing scenario of the ball bouncing two meters away did not occur with him.

The technique and fluidity of his first touch were a visual delight.

After bringing the ball under control, Okocha did not dribble forward. Speed was not his strongest attribute; advancing with the ball would only allow Bellmare more time to reorganize their defense. Instead, he delivered a half-height cross angled toward the left side, just outside Bellmare's box.

The ball traced another elegant arc through the air.

Ronaldo raced toward the Bellmare goal alongside two defenders, with Okocha's pass placed perfectly in front of him.

A Bellmare defender lunged desperately at the front but failed to poke the ball away. The phenomenom evaded the sliding tackle, narrowly missing his chance at the near post. He continued his sprint toward the center. On the left, Stanković had already taken up the space Ronaldo had vacated. He was in position, drawing the attention of a Bellmare defender and forcing another to keep his eyes on him.

This helped reduce the opposition by one defender for Ronaldo. In a one-on-one situation, Ronaldo kept his composure. He adjusted his stride, then lightly flicked the ball with his left foot, sending it past the advancing defender. The defender was left momentarily frozen in disbelief as Ronaldo slipped past him.

Without breaking momentum, Ronaldo surged forward into a one-on-one with the goalkeeper.

The keeper rushed off his line, narrowing the angle and committing himself early but Ronaldo stayed composed. He nudged the ball slightly to the side, subtly shifting his body to avoid the keeper's initial reach.

The goalkeeper lunged, attempting to smother the ball, but Ronaldo's touch carried him just out of range.

With a quick glance at the keeper's position, he lifted his foot under the ball, chipping it with perfect timing.

The ball rose gracefully into the air, arcing over the diving goalkeeper.

The keeper leapt backward desperately, stretching at full extension, but the ball sailed just beyond his fingertips.

It dropped gently toward the goal and crossed the line as the net rippled.

The entire Hiratsuka Stadium Stadium erupted.

Little Jarred had been on the verge of crying, his eyes watering and his lips trembling. But just then, as cheers rose around the stadium, he froze. The sound seemed to capture his attention.

His tears paused. He blinked, looking around with wide, curious eyes, the fear slowly fading into quiet fascination.

Richard, noticing the sudden change, was taken aback. The little one then let out a small, uncertain sound, then settled, his tiny hand gripping his sleeve a little tighter. It seemed that whatever had just happened, little Jarred was distracted by the atmosphere filling with energy.

Richard sighed at this.

"See this? Even tears can wait when football is on."