Football Reborn: The Manager from the future

⚽ Football Reborn: The Manager from the Future

Chapter 50 – The Agent Named Maestra

Night fell over Turin.

Inside a centuries-old monastery now converted into a private training ground, the woman known only as Maestra walked across polished stone corridors lined with forgotten trophies and fading photos.

She wasn't here to admire history.

She was here to rewrite it.

🖤 The Arrival

The coach of the youth academy — a former Italian international named Dario Venzini — met her in silence.

He'd been paid more than his annual salary just for this meeting.

Maestra wore no insignia. No badge. No logo.

But her voice carried the gravity of authority.

"Show me the footage," she said.

Venzini hesitated. "Of Tempo?"

"No," she replied. "Of before Tempo."

🎞️ The Origin Tape

In a backroom filled with old VHS cassettes and cracked monitors, Venzini placed a worn tape into the player.

The screen buzzed to life.

Black and white. Grainy.

But unmistakable.

There he was — Abasi, at age 11.

Frail. Fast. Angry.

He played like a storm that didn't know where to strike.

Maestra leaned in.

"That boy," she said, pointing to a frame.

Venzini nodded. "Yes. He was always special. A little broken, maybe. But special."

She pressed her palm to the screen.

"Where was he sent after?"

"Nowhere," Venzini said. "He disappeared."

🗂️ The Files

Maestra opened a briefcase and slid over a set of documents.

"Compile full psychological profiles. Not just stats. Habits. Triggers. Dreams."

"Dreams?" Venzini asked.

"Yes," she said. "Because what you dream… is where you're weakest."

She took a sip of espresso and added coldly:

"And find me the AI girl's motherboard."

⚽ Meanwhile: Tempo Returns Home

After the draw with Real Madrid, the team flew back to the small coastal town where it all began — Tavira.

There were no parades.

No crowds.

Just the Atlantic wind, and the quiet pitch that started their story.

The team gathered in the locker room for what Chuva called a "grounding session."

No drills. No tactics.

Instead, he passed around a notebook.

One by one, each player wrote down the moment they fell in love with football.

Kojo wrote about chasing a deflated ball through flooded streets.

Thiago described a silent game with his deaf cousin in São Paulo.

Abasi said nothing — but drew a torn net and a broken sandal.

Seraph uploaded an image: a blurry recording of a Barcelona match from 2009.

Ronaldo Jr. simply wrote: "My father smiled."

Chuva looked at their words and said:

"Never forget this. Because the world will try to make you."

🛰️ The Surveillance Begins

That night, Seraph stood alone on the roof of the training lodge.

Her sensors detected faint signals — unmarked drones, hovering too long.

She scanned the local frequency.

Encrypted.

Sophisticated.

Untraceable.

She relayed the data to Chuva silently.

He responded without alarm:

"They're coming sooner than I thought."

🕵️ Maestra's Web Expands

In London, agents approached Thiago's estranged father — offering him a way to "reunite" with his son.

In Accra, two men in suits tried to buy out Kojo's former club — to "protect his future."

In Lisbon, a fake recruiter contacted Seraph's manufacturer.

All were orchestrated by Maestra.

Not to destroy Tempo — but to fracture it.

"No system survives division," she whispered.

💡 Chuva Counters

Chuva called an emergency team meeting.

He placed photos on the table — blurry shots of each intrusion attempt.

"Someone powerful is trying to divide us," he said.

Seraph confirmed the cyber breaches.

Thiago was furious.

Kojo looked shaken.

Ronaldo Jr. muttered, "Cowards."

Chuva raised a hand.

"They aren't cowards," he said. "They're afraid. Because what we have cannot be copied. So they'll try to corrupt it."

He paused.

"But we don't fight corruption with anger."

Abasi raised an eyebrow. "Then how?"

Chuva smiled.

"With clarity."

🎭 The Anonymous Tip

Later that night, Clara Voss received an unmarked envelope under her hotel door.

Inside: photos, reports, and one cryptic message.

"They've sent Maestra. She breaks teams from the inside. She's already near."

No signature. No clue who sent it.

But Clara knew exactly what it meant.

Tempo FC wasn't just a revolution anymore.

It was a target.

🔮 Maestra's Final Move

Maestra stood in front of a digital map.

Dotted across it were points:

"Kojo's Sister"

"Thiago's Scholarship"

"Seraph: Source Code Trail"

"Ronaldo Jr: Contract Bidding"

"Abasi: Real Father?"

Each node had a probability marker.

She clicked the central icon labeled:

TEMPO CORE: CHUVA

The system flashed:

PREDICTION: 67% vulnerability to emotional leverage.

She smiled.

"Then let's begin," she said.