"Ethan!"
In a daze, Ethan Yu seemed to hear someone calling him. He wanted to open his eyes, but he had no strength. His body felt light, as if his soul was floating in the air.
"Ethan! Ethan, wake up!" The shouting became clearer and clearer.
"Who? Who's yelling in my ear? Can't I sleep? I still have to work tomorrow morning!" Ethan was a little angry. He had worked overtime past midnight yesterday and still had to work in the morning. His sleep time was already short, and now he was woken up again. This hatred was simply irreconcilable.
But he couldn't make a sound.
His whole body felt like it was being carried away like a dead pig. After a while, he was placed in a room and laid on something soft, though he couldn't tell if it was a sofa or a bed.
"Andy, try water!" Someone rushed in from outside.
Suddenly, Ethan felt a chill. His body immediately became more solid, and his senses slowly began to return.
"Look, it's working. His eyelids are moving!" the man who brought the water said excitedly.
Another splash of cold water hit his face. Under the icy sting, Ethan gradually regained some strength. He managed to force his heavy eyelids open, and through his blurry vision, he saw two large heads close to him.
"Ethan, can you hear me? Ethan!" Andy Walsh's sharp, high-pitched voice called out.
Ethan began to feel something was wrong. Could this be sleep paralysis?
But no, this didn't feel like sleep paralysis at all.
His vision became clearer. Ethan tried hard to see the two people in front of him. Both were blond foreigners, and he didn't recognize either of them. Yet, both looked extremely concerned about him.
"You..." In a hurry, Ethan raised his right hand and pointed at the older man, who looked to be around thirty, but his strength was too weak, and his hand dropped back down.
Seeing him attempt to speak, both men let out a sigh of relief.
"I'm glad you're alright, Ethan. You scared us to death!" Walsh sat down on a stool beside the bed, smiling nervously.
"I... what happened?" Ethan looked at the two men warily. He realized this wasn't his dorm room. It was an old-style brick house with a simple interior. From the ceiling, he could clearly see rows of tiles and weathered wooden beams.
"Do places like this still exist?" Ethan thought, puzzled.
But then he froze.
Walsh was startled by his sudden movement. "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
Ethan stared at the man in front of him. The man's worried expression didn't look fake. But who was he? And where was this place?
Struggling to recall, Ethan suddenly felt a stream of memories that clearly didn't belong to him. These memories told him that the British man in front of him was Andy Walsh, a Manchester native, while the younger man beside him was Mark David.
"Manchester, England?" Ethan felt a chill run down his spine.
As a die-hard football fan in his past life, he naturally knew about this city. It was the home of the English giant Manchester United, as well as their bitter rivals Manchester City. The clash between the two clubs was known worldwide as the Manchester Derby.
"Why am I in England?" Ethan muttered.
Almost immediately, the foreign memories in his mind provided the answer.
This Ethan Yu's family had immigrated to the UK since his grandfather's generation. They lived in Manchester's famous Faulkner Street. Later, his father married another immigrant, and Ethan was born. His father ran a supermarket there, and the business became more and more prosperous.
But just a year ago, his parents died in a car accident. Besides leaving him the supermarket and some insurance money, they also left him alone in the world.
"Ethan, are you alright?" Walsh shook his shoulders anxiously. Ethan was staring blankly at the wall, eyes wide, looking completely stunned.
Ethan shook his head in confusion. The British Ethan was only 23 years old, which wasn't the problem. The real shock was the date. June 3, 1998.
In other words, Ethan had transmigrated.
"My God, what happened to me?" Ethan grabbed his head, utterly lost.
Walsh quickly grabbed his arm. "It's alright. You were just knocked over by that big guy Makinson. You only need some rest. Otherwise, I'll have Mark take you home while I stay here to handle the player selection."
Ethan froze. "What do you mean, player selection?"
Walsh looked at him strangely, then realization hit. Temporary amnesia. Many people suffered that after a heavy collision.
"Don't you remember? We're selecting players today for the new club." Walsh explained, hoping to jog Ethan's memory.
"A new club?" Ethan frowned. His head felt like it was splitting. Too many memories were flooding in at once, mixing with his own like kneaded dough, turning into a tangled mess.
Walsh smacked his forehead, then asked, "Do you still remember Manchester United?"
"Yeah!" Ethan nodded quickly. Of course he remembered Manchester United. He had always been a fan.
"What about Murdoch?" Walsh pressed further.
Ethan thought hard. "Murdoch... the one from News Corporation?"
He recalled that name immediately. Back in his past life, he often read online football novels, and Murdoch was frequently mocked in them as a symbol of greedy capital.
"Yes, that bastard!" Walsh's voice was full of hatred. His face twisted with anger, like a starving wolf who couldn't catch its prey. "He bought Manchester United for a billion dollars!"
Ethan's brows furrowed. He remembered it now. In 1998, Rupert Murdoch had indeed launched a takeover bid for Manchester United. His sky-high offer shocked the football world. The club's board accepted, but fans fiercely opposed it. The issue grew so large that even the British government got involved.
Eventually, in March 1999, the government blocked Murdoch's bid. But the storm surrounding the deal made the world realize just how valuable Manchester United and the Premier League were.
But what did any of this have to do with him?
Seeing Ethan's confused look, Walsh sighed heavily. "I told you not to play football yourself, but you never listened. Look what happened." Then he began explaining.
It turned out that the British Ethan had been a die-hard Manchester United fan since childhood. He founded a supporters' club called the Red Devil Knights. During Murdoch's takeover attempt, Ethan led the Knights in constant protests and marches. But half a month ago, Manchester United's shareholders decided to sell out to Murdoch.
Ethan realized that all his efforts had been in vain. The board had betrayed the fans. For money, they were willing to hand Manchester United to Murdoch. Murdoch's acquisition funds all came from bank loans. Once completed, United would become the most debt-ridden football club in the world.
But the board didn't care. They only cared about the balance in their bank accounts.
Ethan once thought of raising money from fans to buy shares, but a billion dollars was impossible. In the end, he decided to start a brand new football club.
His parents' inheritance and insurance payout gave him a total of one million pounds after selling the family supermarket. That became his startup capital.
Andy Walsh, a core member of the Red Devil Knights and Ethan's best friend, ran a fan bar in Manchester. Ethan had pulled him in to help on a voluntary basis.
"All the fans are behind you. Look, it's only the first day of tryouts and already three to four hundred people have signed up. The phone hasn't stopped ringing with inquiries. You must give it your all, Ethan. Don't let everyone down."
Ethan looked out the window. Outside, there was a huge crowd. Every so often, bursts of applause rang out, obviously for the players on trial.
Mark David rushed in, out of breath. "Ethan, are you alright?"
Ethan was still dazed from the shock of transmigration, so he only nodded instinctively.
"I'm glad you're fine. Andy, there are too many people outside. Come give us a hand!" Mark said quickly before rushing back out.
Walsh stood with a smile and patted Ethan's shoulder. "Rest here. I'll go help outside."
Ethan nodded, but as Walsh reached the door, he suddenly called out.
"Andy!"
"Hm?" Walsh turned back.
He was a typical Englishman, a bit overweight, ordinary-looking, but when he smiled, it radiated genuine warmth.
"Is it... busy out there?" Ethan asked.
Walsh laughed. "Very busy. Starting a football club from scratch means endless work. But even though it's tiring and none of us are paid, everyone's happy."
"Why?" Ethan asked, puzzled.
"Have you forgotten? When you founded this club, you said the Red Devils have only one soul. The club may belong to you, but it belongs to all of us fans as well."
Walsh paused, then broke into a wide smile, as bright as the summer sun.
"We all believe that when capital erodes the Theatre of Dreams, the Red Devils' soul will live on through you. Because you're a madman who's lost everything. A madman with fanatical pursuits."
Ethan was stunned, silently repeating Walsh's words in his mind.
(To be continued.)
PS: In reality, the Red Rebels do exist in England. They were founded in 2005 when the Glazer family acquired Manchester United. It is a very respectable club. Interested readers can look them up. Search for FC United of Manchester, Red Rebels, or Manchester United Football Club. You can also find them in Football Manager, but you cannot coach them. They are still competing in the lower leagues.
Bless them.