Divine Celebrity 113 (Patreon)

When my phone alarm finally rang, I was putting the last touches on the surface of my fake artifact by rubbing some dirt and stone to give it an old look, like it had been recently dug out of the earth — a night-long effort, interrupted by another wave of shadow assassins that I was able to get rid of it smoothly, leaving me to wonder when they would realize the inefficiency of their moves.

The result was worth it.  

My own staff of Hermes — or at least, a broken version that was only a bit bigger than my hand. Walking around with a full-sized staff was hardly appealing. It was by no means an expert work, and would never trick a curator, but I didn’t need it to. I just needed it not to look freshly made. 

I just needed an excuse for my recovery purposes. 

Of course, there were better, more relevant items from mythology for that purpose, but I wanted to have an excuse I could have used for different purposes, just in case. 

“Now, to your food,” I said with a chuckle as I focused on the little item I had created from the remaining wood. A large bowl, made of wood for my newest pet. I filled it with carrots and lettuce, and more importantly, filled the wood of the bowl with Recovery-Energy. 

With that, I pushed the box to a concealed corner of the room, and set my cameras to warn me of any movement, then I left. 

I was at the stadium fifteen minutes before the training was supposed to start, to make sure everything was in order. Yet, Marcus was already there, pushing one of the tackling dummies to the center. “You’re early,” I called. 

“So are you, Coach,” Marcus answered with a chuckle as he looked at me. “I thought you would have skipped the training after yesterday’s show,” he said with a chuckle. “Who knew you could make a spectacle out of a nerd game.” 

“If you’re not making a spectacle, you’re not trying,” I said with a chuckle even as I walked with him. 

“You’re right, but not every spectacle could get the Dean fired while humiliating our opponents, that was very impressive,” he answered. 

I shrugged. “We just need to make sure that we don’t get humiliated this Sunday.” 

“That’s a tall order,” Marcus answered even as he grabbed some other stuff. 

“How’s the mood with the team,” I asked. 

“Better than expected,” he said. “Watching Dean’s misfortune helped quite a bit for the mood. At least, they are not afraid they will be kicked out of the team once the dean allows Spencer to come back.” 

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “That ship is sailed unless we get humiliated this Sunday.” 

Marcus didn’t share my mirth about that. “Unfortunately, that’s a very likely probability,” he admitted with a sigh. 

“Any reason?” I asked. His gaze was deadpan. “Well, any reason than the fact that we were a chaotic team that had been gathered as a last-ditch effort, filled with practice squad and other mess,” I followed. 

“Well, other than that little issue…” he said with a mocking tone, before getting serious. “I’m afraid of the mood. They are too relaxed after your victory, and actually expect us to win.” 

“And that’s affecting training efficiency,” I guessed. 

“No,” he said, before pausing. “Well, yes, as yesterday’s evening training was rather lax,” he admitted. “But the match is what I’m really afraid of. What will happen when the game won’t go as gloriously as they expect. When we fail to defend against a long pass, or throw an interception. I fear that they will panic and collapse.” 

“Good point,” I said as I looked at him. “They are enthusiastic, but that’s not a clear advantage. Maybe I should test their mental state today.” 

“That would be helpful,” he admitted. 

Before he could say anything else, my phone rang. Considering there were very few people that would have gone to the trouble of calling me at this ungodly hour, I decided to check.

It was Coach Juana. I gestured for Marcus to continue with the tackling dummies before answering. “How can I help you, Coach?” I asked. 

“You can help me by running the whole training yourself today,” she answered, her tone between shocked and irate. 

“What happened?” I asked, curious about her tone. 

“I have just received a promotion,” she answered. 

“Really, maybe I should congratulate you, Head Coach —“ I started, only to be interrupted. 

“Not the Head Coach,” she said. “I’m going to be the next Sports Director.” 

“Really? That was a big … promotion?” I asked, though I let some doubt infect my tone. Technically, it was debatable whether it was a better job compared to being Head Coach, depending on the ultimate target. 

“It is a promotion,” she answered. “Especially with the way things had been going. Technically, I’m the interim head coach as well, but I doubt I will be able to pay much attention to the team for a week or two. With the double-resignation, everything is a mess.”

“So, it’s certain, they are gone,” I said. 

“Was there any doubt,” she asked, chuckling despite the exhaustion in her tone, suggesting that I wasn’t the only one that skipped the sleep.

“Considering my interactions with them, I wasn’t entirely certain that it was enough. They were shameless enough to stay.” 

“They might be shameless, but the same doesn’t apply to the Board. Ultimately, the board was clear that the scandal was too big to handle, and suggested a face-saving resignation was a better option than getting fired while under investigation for bribery and other irregularities.” 

“Good news,” I said as I paused for a moment, considering the implications, feeling rather greedy at the prospect of all that Intent while holding the fort alone. I hoped that the match would be enough to complete the repair. 

[Repair - Phase One - Progress - 49%]

Considering all the passive flood was barely able to push it to another point despite the scandal — though I had spent some for experimentation — the game represented the biggest opportunity to solve things. 

 “About handling the team,” she suggested. “I might try to reach a few high-school coaches to see if they are willing to take the challenge—“ she suggested. 

I interrupted her. “No need. As long as you can handle the operational and logistic aspects, I can easily handle the training and the game time,” I answered. “I just need to skip the classes.” 

“As the new sports director who’s responsible for the academic career of the players as well, I didn’t hear the last part,” she said. 

I chuckled. “As you wish, director,” I said with a chuckle. “Anything else?” 

“No, coach,” she answered. “Go and make sure we don’t get humiliated this Sunday. I don’t think either of us can handle it.” 

I shut the phone, and went back to help Marcus, checking the state of the locker room and the corridors in the process, confirming that the cleaning crew had done a comprehensive assessment of the area. 

As we worked a few of the other veterans arrived before the official time, and started helping. I noticed Arthur among them, moving back and forth with the group, doing his best to make himself a part of the group. 

I had no doubt that, if I explained someone about my situation, they would have been shocked that I didn’t kick Arthur out of the team. But that would have been a horrible mistake. A spy, once discovered, was an excellent double-edged sword. 

Not to mention, I didn’t have the luxury of getting rid of my best Quarterback at the moment. His backup was a Running back that could barely throw a few short passes, and while I could use him to pull a few trick plays, that was the extent of what was doable. 

The irony, that a group of people that was potentially my enemies gave me the most important tool I needed to resist the situation. 

I watched as the people gather, delaying the start of the training. The reason, some of the newer players, arriving late. Not for long, just for a minute or two, but that was never a good sign. Conveniently, I had been looking for a chance to break their happy mood. 

“Good morning, team,” I said cheerfully. Amusedly, I noted that it was enough to unsettle the old players, and some of the new players. But most of the new players smiled benignly, thinking that it was an honest greeting. 

They could not be further from the truth. “I can see that your group had volunteered you a lot for a morning greeting. A nice two-mile run,” I said, to which they didn’t react. “In full gear,” I added, my friendly smile disappearing into another, not-so-friendly one. |Are you guys happy about that?” I asked with a cheerful tone. 

“Maybe only the late ones—“ one of the new players that were on time spoke before one of the others could silence him. 

“Oh, good, volunteers for a three-mile run,” I said, with excessive cheer. It was a bit pushing, and another coach, especially a student-coach, trying the same trick might have experienced some unfortunate responses. 

Luckily, I was cheating, and it only earned a groan of protest before they started running.  

An explosive way to start a day, but welcome. After all, it gave me the chance I needed to test my newest toy…