Victor Kane was sipping his morning coffee when his phone buzzed on the desk next to him. It was an unfamiliar number. He eyed it warily for a moment before picking it up. "Hello?"
"Victor!" came a bright, cheerful voice from the other end of the line. It took him a second to place it—his mother. Of course, no one else could pack so much energy into two syllables. "Oh my goodness, it's been ages! I was starting to think you'd forgotten you have a family!"
Victor chuckled softly, holding the phone a little away from his ear to preserve his hearing. "Mom, it's not been that long."
"Three years, Victor. Three! Do you know how many birthdays you've missed? Hm? Your father's, mine, and—oh, speaking of birthdays—your sister's is coming up next week. You are coming, aren't you?"
Victor hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't want to go. It was just… complicated. His memories of family life were fractured, hazy in places—something he had tried not to think about too much since his reincarnation. But the thought of seeing his sister, his mother, even his father, stirred something unfamiliar and faintly uncomfortable.
"Uh…" he started, but his mother cut him off before he could form a proper excuse.
"Don't you even think about saying no!" she declared. "Your sister will be devastated if you don't show up. And honestly, you and your father need to stop being so stubborn. Just make up already. I swear, the two of you are like kids on a playground, refusing to share the sandbox!"
Victor ran a hand through his hair, sighing in defeat. "Alright, Mom. I'll come."
"Good! And no excuses this time! I'll text you the details. Love you!" she said, hanging up before he could reply.
Victor set the phone down, staring at it for a moment. It had been years since he thought about his family in any real depth. His memories from his previous life had always felt distant, like watching someone else's film, but this call had stirred something deeper. He wondered what it would be like to see them again, to step into that world he had unconsciously left behind. With a faint smile, he decided not to overthink it. He'd just let it flow.
Later that day, Victor found himself meeting Burton Albion's new chairwoman, Elena Marlow, for the first time in person. At 26, she was younger than Victor expected for someone holding such a high position, though it was clear from the way she carried herself that she was more than capable. She had sharp green eyes that seemed to pick apart every detail in a room, and her smile was as charming as it was calculated. Still, there was something approachable about her—something that felt refreshingly normal in the chaos of football administration.
"You must be Victor," she said as they shook hands. Her grip was firm but not overbearing. "You're taller than I expected."
Victor raised an eyebrow. "And you're younger than I expected."
Elena laughed, a light, melodic sound. "Touché. Though I like to think my age keeps the old suits on their toes."
"Well, you've got one less 'old suit' to deal with now that Arthur's retired," Victor said, leaning back slightly. "So, what brings you into football? Not exactly a traditional career path, is it?"
Elena shrugged, sitting across from him. "You'd be surprised. Let's just say I've always had a knack for organizing chaos. And football," she added with a grin, "is nothing but chaos. Besides, I like a good challenge."
Victor smirked. "You'll fit right in, then."
Their conversation meandered from light topics to more serious discussions about the club's future. Elena's vision was ambitious—modernizing the facilities, expanding the fanbase, and solidifying Burton Albion's place in League One and beyond. But there were also moments of levity, like when she confessed she still got lost trying to navigate the stadium's winding halls.
"Let me guess," Victor said, leaning forward slightly. "You ended up in the janitor's closet?"
"Twice," Elena admitted with a laugh, covering her face with one hand. "And once in some storage room where I think I accidentally turned off the Wi-Fi. People were not happy."
Victor chuckled. "Well, as long as you didn't knock over the trophies."
"Oh, don't worry. I didn't. Not yet, anyway," she said, her grin teasing.
Despite himself, Victor found Elena easy to talk to. There was a sharpness to her wit that matched her clear intelligence, and for the first time in a while, he felt a flicker of curiosity about someone outside the world of tactics and football.
That evening, Victor returned to his office, the faint glow of the Snake Tactics Manual filling the room. As much as he tried to focus on its advanced strategies and newly unlocked features, his thoughts kept drifting—to his mother's cheerful voice, to his sister's upcoming birthday, to the unexpected warmth of his conversation with Elena.
For now, though, he set those thoughts aside. There was work to be done, after all, and the offseason promised to be anything but quiet.