Victor Kane tossed his bag into the passenger seat of his car, rubbing his forehead as he double-checked his itinerary for the trip home. His mother had made absolutely sure that he wouldn't forget—three texts, two phone calls, and a voice note all reminding him that his sister's birthday was not optional. Victor smirked, shaking his head. His mother's enthusiasm was a force of nature, and arguing with it was a lost cause.
As he buckled in, however, his thoughts drifted elsewhere—to a less pleasant realization.
For the past few years, he had been stuck living on a diet of instant noodles, budget supermarket meals, and whatever cheap takeaway he could find, all because the past Victor Kane—the original person he had reincarnated into—thought it was a brilliant idea to ruin his financial stability over a petty fight with his father.
Victor scowled. "Past-me was an idiot."
Seriously. Who chooses poverty because they're mad at their rich businessman father? This guy had all the opportunities—connections, a stable financial background, options for an easy life—and threw it all away because he wanted to prove a point?
Now Victor was the one paying the price, literally, struggling to afford a decent meal just because his predecessor wanted to play the tragic protagonist in his own self-imposed downfall arc.
"Oh, no, Dad, I'm gonna do things my way," Victor muttered mockingly, mimicking his past self's dramatic rebellion. "I don't need your help—Oh, wait, I'm broke. Time to live off instant noodles for five years!"
He shook his head, sighing. At least now, as Burton Albion's full-fledged manager, he had a steady income. Hopefully, that meant an actual diet instead of whatever survival food he had been eating before.
Meanwhile, Elena Marlow was seated at Burton Albion's headquarters, scrolling through financial reports while sipping her coffee. Since taking over as chairwoman, she had pushed through rapid changes, modernizing the club's structure and elevating its ambitions. The training facilities were nearly complete, the stadium renovations had begun, and new commercial deals were being finalized.
However, not everyone was enthusiastic about the sudden modernization.
Elena leaned back as she read over an email from the fan advisory board. While most fans supported the improvements, some were worried that the club was losing its roots, that all the changes were happening too quickly, and that tradition was being replaced by corporate restructuring.
Elena sighed. It was always like this. Progress vs. nostalgia—a never-ending debate. And she wasn't here to erase history. She was here to preserve it while moving forward.
"Balancing tradition and progress," she muttered. "Just another day in football."
Victor had barely made it halfway home when his phone buzzed in the cup holder beside him. He glanced at the caller ID and groaned.
Clara Kane.
His elder sister.
Victor reluctantly picked up. "I'm driving. Make this quick."
"Oh, please," Clara replied, completely ignoring him. "You've been gone for years, and that's your greeting? Not even a hello, Clara, how's your empire going?"
Victor chuckled. "Right, right. How's your glorious business empire?"
"Booming, as always," she said casually, before adding, "Oh, and I heard your little club got a beautiful new manager."
Victor frowned slightly. "Chairwoman, actually."
Clara hummed, clearly unconcerned with the distinction. "Still. A young, ambitious woman running a football club? Interesting."
Victor narrowed his eyes. That tone. The teasing tone Clara always used when she was plotting something. "Clara."
"What?"
"Drop whatever you're scheming."
She laughed. "No promises. Anyway, try not to crash before you get here."
Victor hung up, shaking his head. Clara was always like this—sharp, unpredictable, and an expert at pushing his buttons. He hadn't seen her in years, but it felt like no time had passed at all.
At Burton Albion's training grounds, Elena walked along the sidelines, watching the players go through drills. Elliot Harper was getting more confident, his movements sharper as he adjusted to the demands of the Snake Tactics System. Marco Silva controlled the tempo, shifting the play effortlessly, while Ryan Caldwell commanded the defense, barking orders as if he had been with the team for years.
Elena had heard Victor's scouting decisions were precise, but seeing the players in action, she understood why they were essential. Burton wasn't just signing players—they were building a team with an identity.
She smirked slightly. "Interesting."
Victor finally arrived at his family's house, ringing the doorbell, preparing for the inevitable greeting that awaited him.
The door swung open—and his mother immediately pulled him into a crushing hug.
"Victor!" she exclaimed. "Look at you! You haven't starved to death, at least!"
Victor laughed as she squeezed him. "Mom, I'm fine."
She pulled back, eyeing him critically. "Still too thin. You need home-cooked meals, not whatever nonsense football clubs feed you!"
Victor shook his head. "Mom, I—"
"No arguments," she interrupted, already dragging him inside. "Your sister is going to love that you actually showed up this time."
Back in Burton, Elena sat in her office, flipping through commercial proposals. The club's transformation was making headlines, with articles speculating about Burton's rise and the influence of Victor Kane's leadership.
One article read: "Burton's Silent Revolution: How One Manager Changed Everything."
Elena smirked slightly, scrolling past it. Football journalism loved its dramatic narratives.
She glanced at her phone, debating whether to message Victor about a few contract matters—but decided against it.
After all, he was finally home.
For now, she'd let him enjoy that.