Twain's excitement did not last long. When he met up with Roy Keane himself, he poured cold water on his excitement.

"Mr. Twain, I know why you called my agent." Seated in a booth in a regular Irish pub, the former Manchester United team captain spoke to Twain. "But I'm really sorry, I have to turn down your offer."

Twain stared blankly for a moment. Is this Irishman so straightforward in rejecting people?

He pondered for a moment and could only simply ask, "Why?"

Next to them, the agent, Michael Kennedy. answered the question on Keane's behalf. "Because Roy is not going to be an opponent of Manchester United in the Premier League."

Based on what Tang En knew, after Roy Keane had left Manchester United and become a free player, he went to the Scottish Premiership team, Celtic, in the winter transfer season. He had joined the team that he had supported and favored since his youth. This was the reason. Since he had refused his invitation from that point of view, it really made it impossible for Tang En to continue to sell the idea.

He recalled Keene's course after his departure from Manchester United: the Scottish Premiership team, Celtic, and then… He seemed to go on to become the manager of Sunderland. At the time of his transmigration, the man was still struggling hard to lead "The Black Cats," which was ranked second from the bottom in the EFL Championship, toward the English Premier League.

No one believed that the Irishman could succeed, and neither did Twain before he had transmigrated. But now he believed it because he had personally experienced such incredible things.

He looked at Keane. A season ago, they had competed as rivals. He had not expected to be able to sit like this and have a chat outside of their uniforms.

Because of his arrival, he did not know whether Keane would become the manager of Sunderland in the future. He did not even know if Keane would become a Celtic player after rejecting Nottingham Forest.

"Roy… Do you have any plans for the future?" asked Twain after a moment of silence.

"Plans? Do you mean if I'll join a club or…?"

"A little further down the road. What do you want to do when you hang up your boots?"

Keane thought about it. "Become a manager. In my career, there were two managers who so deeply impressed me that I hope to become successful like them in the future."

The Irishman did not say who the two men were, but Twain knew clearly that one of them was the late Nottingham Forest manager, Brian Clough. He had brought Keane from his hometown to the English Premier League and groomed him to become a star footballer. The other man was Alex Ferguson, who took him from Blackburn Rovers to Manchester United and made him a world-class star player.

"I think we have something in common." Twain decided to worm his way into being friends with Keane. Even though Keane had refused him, it did not mean that he would not change his mind later. "Well, in my coaching career, Brian Clough influenced me the most. After I achieved some small success when I first started leading the Forest team, Clough wanted to see me. I thought it was to commend or acknowledge me. I did not expect to play a completely unmemorable supporting role that afternoon."

Speaking of which, Twain suddenly laughed. "Roy, we really have a connection."

Keane raised his eyebrows.

"On the way back to Nottingham, I was unhappy about my cold reception. Then Walker, who was with me, told me a little story and I suddenly felt better. Do you know who was in that story? It was you, Roy."

Keane was a little surprised.

"He told me that after you had a good debut performance, you ran into Clough the next day on the training ground. He asked for your name, and then you helped him clean his shoes."

When he heard that, Keane also smiled. "Yes, that did happen. I didn't think they'd remember." He became quiet and seemed to be lost in the recollection of his past. That youthful-looking guy had already become a thirty-four-year-old "old chap." Those twelve years had gone by in the blink of an eye.

"Roy, I don't know which club you're going to choose, but I hope you can accept my goodwill."

Keane snapped out of his recollection and looked up at Twain.

"There are still twenty-three days before the start of the winter transfer period. Before you decide your next stop, you're welcome to train with my team to maintain your stamina and stay in shape."

When they heard Twain's words, even Michael Kennedy was surprised.

"It's just normal training. You don't have to participate in my team's training. You can train alone with your own program. The Nottingham Forest Football Club will provide you with all the facilities. You can use the players' locker room, cafeteria, gym, treatment room… You can do anything except to play on behalf of the Forest team and participate in the team training. You can even wear your Manchester United jersey."

The corner of Keane's mouth twitched when he heard the last remark, and then he immediately became calm again.

Michael Kennedy looked at Keane.

Keane looked down and asked, "What's in it for you, Mr. Twain?"

Twain spread his hands and shrugged. "Why do people have to ask, 'what's in it for me?' when they're doing something? Isn't it just nice to be able to help others? Anyway, the Forest team's training base has so much space. It won't be overcrowded if one more person is there to train. Of course, if you really want me to give you a reason, I think you'll be more familiar with the Nottingham Forest Football Club than with the other teams."

"Even if I was familiar with the club, that was twelve years ago," Keane mumbled.

Twain had thought that Keane would disagree. He was prepared to show a regretful expression on his face. But he heard him add, "Okay, before I find the right club, I'll train there. I'm already here, anyway. Michael?"

Kennedy nodded. "Mr. Twain, I think your invitation is very timely. I'm also very grateful for your warm generosity."

Twain chuckled. "It's nothing. But I'm actually quite narrow-minded, eccentric, stubborn and spiteful. At least that's what the media says."

The other two men laughed too.

Twain patted his stomach and said, "Shall we have dinner?"

The subsided laughter started again.

Kennedy went to look for the waiter for the menu, while Keane leaned forward on the table to look at Twain. "Mr. Twain, I'm very interested in the story you didn't finish just now. You said Walker told you my story when you were feeling down. So, what happened next?"

"Later..." Twain pretended to think back, and then said, "Later, Walker told me that the chap who had polished Clough's shoes became a world-class midfielder and captain of the Irish national team. And much later… I think I'm doing pretty well now!"

The two men laughed at the same time.

To know humility, and not lose one's confidence. The two men, who were three years apart in age, did indeed have that in common.