As the losers, there was nothing else to say about the situation after the match. Evan Doughty took a trip to the hotel the team was residing in after the match. He honored his promise about the prize money at the scene, managing to at least bring some smiles to the disappointed players.

Tang En did not receive his prize money, shutting himself in his room.

To the others, perhaps it seemed as if he was still angry about losing the match and was still furious over the referee issue. In truth, that was only the impression he gave others. He was, in fact, blaming himself for his own mistakes.

Often, he felt he was practically invincible, having knowledge of the future. He thought he could depend on it to make a mark for himself, carving out a fabulous life. It was his little secret, a secret that no one would ever know, no matter how close to him they were. He used his knowledge to unearth future superstar footballers in advance, smoothing the path for his own rise.

He had believed everything would be a bed of roses.

He had not expected himself to become bound by the pre-transmigration memories in the finals of the Champions League, causing him to be filled with misgivings. His whole mind was clouded with what that match was originally like; it was filled with the match that occurred altogether in another dimension, the match that had nothing to do with the one today!

He could see it as having been made a fool of, but who exactly was making a fool of him? Was it Fate? No, it was himself.

So, Tang En shut himself in his room, switching off his cell phone to make sure no one could disturb him. In this sealed-off space, he began to reflect on everything he had done in the past.

He had transmigrated from April 2007. The memories he had ahead of this timeline were going to expire in a year. What was he going to do then?

Would he be unable to move forward without his pre-transmigration memories? If so, did that mean that the results of his two-plus seasons of management were from living off his past gains?

Didn't he usually also do thorough research on the coaching notes Dunn left behind in the house? Or read countless theory books, analyze match recordings, and secretly learn from the managerial team whenever possible? He had never thought that he would have been able to survive in this cruel world of fame and wealth only depending on his four and a half years of pre-transmigration memories.

This was not a game like Championship Manager or FM, a game published by their club in cooperation with SI. Life would not give him any chances to load a past save if he made a mistake or lost a game. He also could not use shameless methods like adding more managers to gain the results he hoped for.

Losing the Champions League's finals to Barcelona was a catalyst for Tang En.

He needed to completely leave behind the memories of his past and throw off the ropes that bound him. He wanted to see if he was still able to carry on in this position without his pre-transmigration memories—his cheat code and editing tool.

Back when he was interviewed after making his name in the EFL Championship, he had told Professor Constantine that he himself was a "born manager." Now, he wanted to prove the accuracy of his statement. Did he really deserve to sit in that position? Did he get to his position because of his luck, when he had transmigrated into an unlucky someone who happened to already be an interim manager? Or did he walk, step-by-step, to where he was today because of genuine talent and ability?

After the finals, he hoped he would be able to find the answer.

※※※

After losing the match, no one felt good. Even though manager Tony did not announce a time for them to be lights-out by, most of Forest's players returned to their rooms and closed their doors.

After Evan Doughty and Allan Adams finished giving out the prize money, they came to Tang En's door.

"He's still inside?" Allan asked Kerslake.

Kerslake nodded. "Yes. Since getting off the bus, he's been locked in there."

"Did he say anything to you?" Allan said.

"No, he didn't say a word. He had a gloomy expression the whole time, so I didn't dare to ask."

Allan recalled the scene during the award ceremony.

"This Tony… he's just like a kid." He could only shake his head helplessly.

"Do you need me to call an attendant to open the door?" Kerslake asked.

Evan Doughty raised his hand, dismissing the notion. "No, let him have a good rest. Don't disturb him. The pressure he bears is greater than any of us. It's not totally unreasonable for him to need to vent a little and throw a tantrum. Let's go. You should rest earlier too, David."

"I will. Goodnight."

The two bid their goodbyes to the team's assistant manager and walked towards the lift.

"Evan, there are times when I think you indulge him a bit too much." Evidently, Allan still harbored a grudge over the occurrence at the award ceremony today. Why did he harbor a grudge? Of course, it was because Tang En's moment of rashness had destroyed Allan's hard work in building up good relations and a good image with the UEFA… did anyone really think the UEFA would pay so much attention to Forest Team, even getting people to film a documentary, only because of their outstanding results? Without Allan working in the background, how was all that possible?

The two stood, waiting for the elevator. Evan Doughty smiled. "Of course, I know."

"And you still…"

"As a manager, Allan, I need to apply management styles based on the unique qualities of my subordinates. I know what kind of person Tony is, so I treat him differently than I treat the others. He needs absolute trust and support given to him. He will then reward you very, very richly. He is not the kind where a little investment turns up good profits; a trade in which a tiny investment reaps bountiful rewards." At that moment, Evan Doughty did not look like how he described himself: someone with good luck who only achieved as much as he had through the help of others.

"You've seen the results with him leading the team. I don't think we can find anyone more suited to be Forest's main manager. He has brought us many victories and glory… As such, in exchange, we have to bear with his terrible temper and sometimes even clean up after him."

Evan turned to smile at his old partner. Allan looked back at him. The two stared at each other in that manner until they heard the ringing bell from the elevator.

"I know… I will try to restore our relations with the UEFA," Allan sighed.

"I knew I could trust you, Allan."

"You can stop licking my boots!" Allan said, glaring at Evan Doughty.

"Evan, I have to remind you. Tony is a violent-tempered horse; he runs fast, has a lot of potential, and can spur the team to charge into the enemy lines with him and bring us a lot of profit and glory. But you'd best find a tough enough rope to tether him with. If one day, you feel that he has stepped past what you can bear, pull on it."

As he was making the motion of pulling back, he found Evan Doughty missing from beside him. Evan was already standing in the elevator. He reminded him, "It's going to close if you don't come in, Allan."

Allan was momentarily stunned, but hastily slipped in upon seeing the closing doors.

※※※

Tang En did not know how he fell asleep. He remembered having returned to the hotel and locking himself in his room to reflect after the loss of the match. He did not even take a shower or remove his clothes before laying on his bed to reflect. As he was thinking and thinking, having had such a busy day and with such enormous psychological stress on him, he gradually fell asleep.

By the time he woke up again, it was already the next day. The day had yet to lighten up. Everything was pitch black outside and he could not see a thing.

The team would be leaving Paris on a flight today to return to Nottingham. Then, they would announce the team's dismissal over there. The new period of vacation was to begin today.

After sleeping, his mood was much better than yesterday. The pressure was gone too. The only thing left was the despair from having lost the match; that had not been reduced in any way. Humans were always pining after things they had lost, filled with yearning for the things they could not get. Tang En still felt disappointment and regret when he thought about how they had been so close to becoming the European champions.

But what was lost was lost. Further regret, regretting until his death, would be useless. What was lost would not come back. He had to look forward instead.

Tang En hopped off the bed. He did not move to wash up, instead directly walking to the window and drawing the curtains. He looked out at the darkened night outside. It was so dark that he could not see any starlight.

Was this the legendary darkness before dawn?

After a brief period of standing in front of the windows in a stupor, Tang En walked back. Remembering that his cell phone was still switched off, he picked it up from his pillow side.

He had only just switched it on when more than 10 messages rapidly came in.

Most of it was comforting words or encouragements.

Of course, there were also some exceptions.

Clarice Gloria was exceptionally interested in Tang En's shocking actions during the award ceremony. Her message expressed her surprise about it.

Looking at the message, Tang En then recalled what he had done at the scene yesterday. Now that he had calmed down, he realized, on hindsight, how inappropriate his actions were. In front of the 80-thousand strong live audience and countless television audience, he had given away the silver medal just presented to him by the UEFA… Although that medal was already his and he had the right to do anything he wanted with it, his actions in that situation, time, and context would easily be interpreted as a mockery and provocation of UEFA; in fairness, that was exactly what he had meant.

He knew that he had stirred up some trouble for the club again. He did not care about being fined; it was worth it if he lost some money in exchange for venting his frustrations at such a huge event. He was worried that he would be banned from matches by the UEFA. If that happened, it would be extremely disadvantageous to the team's journey in next season's Champions League.

Perhaps he should ask Gloria for a favor, and ask her to use her connections and influence in the circle to intercede in his case?

Tang En placed his finger on the reply button but did not press it in the end.

He could not bear to beg.

Dunn's message was very simple. He did not express any consolation or regret. He just told him that the entire match had been recorded and was waiting for a thorough analysis after he got home.

Why else would he say the two of them were in tandem? While Tang En on this side was still reflecting on his mistakes in the match, Dunn, on the other end, had already recorded the whole match. He was just waiting for Tang En to get home so they could analyze and reflect on it together. Having a helper with such great chemistry with him in the next season gave Tang En even more confidence that he could rebuild and make a comeback.

In truth, the 10 or more messages were not representative of an equal number of people sending them. This cell phone number was private, so there were only a few who knew it.

Other than a handful of people, the rest of the messages were all sent by one person: Shania.

Evidently, Shania was extremely worried about him switching off his cell phone. From the short intermissions between each of her sent messages, Tang En could clearly see the fluctuation in Shania's emotions; from consolation to encouragement, then doubt, anxiety, and fear…

"It's no big deal. There are always wins and losses in football, Uncle Tony."

"You'll still have opportunities in the future. This is definitely not going to be your only experience in the finals of the Champions League!"

"You've switched off your phone? Why?"

"Switch it back on, Uncle Tony!"

"Hey, what are you doing? This is just a match! Is it worth this? Reply to me!"

"Uncle Jerk, I'm not going to care about you anymore if you don't reply!"

"Alright, I surrender! I'm still going to care about you. Now, you'll switch your phone back on, right?"

All those messages only expressed one thing: worry.

As Tang En read them, the depressive mood he was in gradually lightened.

He originally intended on directly giving Shania a call to apologize, but upon realizing the time, was afraid he would wake the girl up. He could only type a message and send it over instead.

"I'm alright, I'm good. Everything is OK. Thank you for your concern, and I'm sorry to worry you."

※※※

When Nottingham Forest's players awoke one after another and came down for breakfast after washing up, they were surprised to find their boss already sitting in the seat nearest to the windows. He was using the bright sunlight of the early morning to read the paper.

"Boss…" Ribéry greeted.

Hearing someone call out to him, Tang En raised his head.

"Oh, Franck. Perfect timing. Come here and give me a hand with the newspaper. I can't understand French," Tang En said, pointing to the newspaper in his hands.

Ribéry was tempted to roll his eyes. To think you looked so focused earlier with the papers… You can't understand a single word…

He walked over and took over the paper. Glancing through it quickly, his face immediately changed.

"What?" Tang En asked, sitting on the chair and looking up at him.

"Uh… nothing. It's just about the brief interlude during yesterday's award ceremony…"

Tang En nodded. "Oh, oh. That I know. I want to hear about their commentary."

"They… they say you're arrogant, eccentric, rash, easy to anger, have a bad temper, and have no style… Anyhow, it's not anything good, Boss."

Tang En laughed. "What do you think about yesterday?"

"At the time, I thought it was pretty cathartic…"

"Haha, that's good then. Go eat." Tang En took back the newspapers, indicating his consent for Ribéry to leave.

The Frenchman did not leave immediately. He stood there and asked, "Boss, this isn't our final time participating in the Champions League's finals, is it?"

Tang En shook is head.

At this, Ribéry was satisfied, turning around to head over to the restaurant for breakfast.

The players came down one after another, greeting Tang En and then getting shooed by him to the restaurant. It was only when David Kerslake walked out of the elevator that Tang En took the initiative to greet him.

"Here, David." He waved his hand to get Kerslake over.

"You're up, Tony."

"Yes. I slept very early. About what happened in the locker room yesterday, I have to apologize," Tang En said sincerely. "I'm really sorry about blowing up at you. You know, I wasn't really aiming it at you."

"Of course, I know that. Kerslake raised his hand, asking Tang En not to go on. "The pressure on your shoulders is greater than any one of us. It's nothing to let you vent some steam. I know how terrible it felt to lose the match. It's good if you've vented it out. It's not good to bury it."

Tang En looked at his understanding assistant and lightly nodded. "Thank you, David."

"We're partners. We still need to work hard for the next season. Forest's future depends on you now, Tony! This time, we didn't manage to become the champions, but we'll come again the next time!"

The two clasped their hands tightly together.

※※※

The next afternoon, the flight Forest Team was on landed in London's Heathrow Airport. When the players disembarked from the plane with lowered heads and faces painted with tiredness and dismay, they were surprised to see many people welcoming them.

Among the crowd of people welcoming them was a giant banner that was particularly eye-catching:

You are our hero! Thank you!

Tang En stood on the stairs and waved at the crowd below.

This was a new beginning.