Bloody Purge, the Bosman Ruling, and the Summer Transfer Window
"I'm glad we have someone like Dr. Fiona here."
"Oh, not at all~ I'm the one who's glad to have a manager like you."
"Well then, I've got a few things to look over."
Han Shin scraped every last scrap of side dish from his bowl until it was spotless.
"My goodness! If you eat that fast you'll get indigestion!"
"That was delicious."
"Then let me clear the manager's dishes for you."
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome."
Dr. Fiona left the table.
"I'll see you at the full staff meeting in an hour."
"Sounds good."
"Okay."
"I'll head out first."
"See you shortly."
The moment Han Shin was gone, Jocelyn tried to start the backbiting.
"That—that—that! No table manners whatsoever... gobbling his food like that, tsk tsk... might as well be a beggar."
I can't stand this.
Speakman set down his fork and knife.
"Looks like you took a punch. Bet that stings."
"A punch? Nonsense... Sporting Director, can you really work with that ragamuffin of a kid?"
"Not a ragamuffin—Han Shin. And work is work. What matters isn't who someone is, but how they get the job done, don't you think?"
Scrape—!
Isaac pushed his chair back and stood.
"I've got busy things to handle too, so I'll be off. Enjoy your meal!"
"I'll join you."
Speakman and Isaac left the table.
In the end, Jocelyn was left alone.
"Honestly, whether it's England or Korea, no culture... no culture at all..."
Han Shin left the dining hall.
Running straight to the owner like this would just make me look like a snitch—and I don't even know if he's one of his confidants. I need a rational justification in an official setting. A justification...
He pulled out his phone and sent a text.
Ding—!
The reply came instantly.
Maxwell had become markedly more polite since yesterday.
By the way, Kyril went on about a businessman's eye for people, yet he keeps someone like that around.
"Manager!!"
The club's young blood, thirty-six-year-old Isaac, came chasing after him.
"Yes, what is it, Scout Isaac?"
"The coaches are giving you a headache, aren't they?"
"Yes—we're simply short on absolute numbers."
And the ones left are lower quality.
"I'll support you."
"What exactly can you do for me, Isaac?"
"Pardon?"
"Ah, my wording may have been a bit sharp. I'm heading to the data analysis room right now."
"He's obnoxious!"
So Jocelyn's still the same meal-ruiner.
"So what's the data analysis room for?"
"We've exchanged internal emails, but I wanted to visit in person and talk things over."
"Sounds like an inspection."
"Hahaha. More than anything, I want to express the players' abilities in detailed numbers. Say, from zero to a hundred."
"Ah~ like World FM."
"I'm glad to meet someone who speaks my language. Have you played the game much?"
"Actually, as a scout I also handle the data analyst role, transmitting our players' data through Nebula Nexus."
"What? Oh my, I didn't realize I was in the presence of such a valuable person."
"It's nothing—everyone just dumps it on me. Mostly because they hate dealing with outside companies."
So it's the leftover work. Never done it myself, but it feels like a contractor facing the parent company?
"And I'm a huge fan of Manager Han! I've used the Cannibal tactics a lot."
"Calling it Cannibal means you're a real fan. Isaac, you said? Last name Newton, by any chance?"
"Hahaha, I'm not the founder of physics—it's Theodore. Isaac Theodore."
Theodore... Roosevelt. Theodor... Pyotr.
"From my limited knowledge, it means 'gift of God,' right?"
"Haha, something like that... it's a common name."
"I have a great many questions for the gift of God. Shall we go together?"
"Manager, before that..."
"Yes, go ahead."
"Could I get an autograph here?"
"Of course—I'd be happy to. Where shall I sign? Though I don't have a pen."
"I brought one!"
He rummaged through the backpack he was wearing and pulled something out.
"On this?"
"Yes!"
Is he a developer?
The laptop lid was plastered with distinctive stickers.
"Is this... my character? I heard they gave these out through viewer votes, but this is the first time I've seen one in person."
"It feels like my secret hobby just got exposed to the person himself—embarrassing."
"Well... it's that kind of era, but you're not... gay, are you?"
"No. I'm not."
"I'll sign right away."
Han Shin's signature was etched onto the laptop lid.
"Thank you! Just a moment..."
He plopped down on the floor, pulled film from his bag, and stuck it on.
"This way it won't rub off."
"Could I also get a photo with you?"
"You're really... not that way, right? I'll respect any preference."
Isaac answered firmly.
"Yes. Not gay."
"Everyone, look who it is—our genius, our genius manager has arrived."
"I'm a bit embarrassed."
He said "everyone," but there were only two of them in the sparse setup.
"Welcome! I'm William Turner, head of the data analysis team."
"Ye~~~s."
William Turner wore a baggy gray sweatshirt with a hood, wide training pants, and old, worn-out slippers.
Has he not washed? At least put on some deodorant...
Judging by the greasy hair, he looked like he might even be living and sleeping at the clubhouse.
"Nice to meet you, uh... snff..."
Han Shin couldn't judge purely by smell—he'd encountered plenty of foreigners with strong body odor.
There's racial prejudice calling Koreans garlic-smelling, but this is... ugh, I want to say something.
"Sniff sniff—sorry. I haven't washed all day, so I probably smell a bit, right?"
"Is it that obvious? Well, as long as it doesn't interfere with your work—it's summer, you sweat, so let's shower."
"I'll do that."
A relatively neatly dressed white man held out his hand.
"This guy says he'll wash and never does. Nice to meet you. I'm Brian."
"Yes, and Brian as well—I've got a lot of questions for all three of you."
The Sunderland AFC data analysis office was quite different from the other departments. Multiple computer monitors sat on every desk, and a large screen was mounted on the wall, visualizing the team's matches.
One corner of the office, packed with cutting-edge equipment, held a row of drones, each fitted with a high-resolution camera.
As a relatively new department, the staff were around Han Shin's age, and the gear was on another level—wall-mounted monitors, computers, and machines whose purpose he couldn't even guess.
Han Shin pointed at a monitor filled with black-and-white code indented in green and pink, next to a pass map.
"Is Python your main language?"
William asked,
"Manager, you know programming too?"
"Just a tiny bit. AI's so hot these days. I fiddled with Python wondering if I could combine AI with football—messed with CUDA and libraries and everything."
"Ohh... that's really impressive. I never imagined words like CUDA or even 'library' would come out of a manager's mouth."
Han Shin tossed out what he knew.
"Python's relatively simple in syntax... right?"
"That's right. We mainly use Python for data analysis and visualization."
Brian added,
"For example, calculating xG values or drawing pass maps. That way we can see more clearly what worked in a match and what can be improved."
Exactly what I want. But looking at how hard Analyst William is working...
"Before we get into specifics, just to check—I've heard developers usually want an independent work environment. If you're comfortable as is, we can move on, but is the team size enough?"
"No! It's not enough. Far from it."
Brian gave William a thumbs-up.
"Team Leader William is basically doing the work of a hundred men by himself."
"I couldn't have done anything without Brian helping in the field."
"Yes. You two get along well."
"When there aren't enough people, you get tighter."
"Then if we add a few more, do you think the team leader could shower and get a proper night's sleep while working?"
William and Brian looked at each other.
"One? No, two?"
"Go higher—three?"
"If I add three more, could I get the data I want quickly?"
"Absolutely! With that we could almost build an automated system. Instantly, the moment data comes in."
"A 3D designer! Or someone who can do 3D modeling—we could make really great materials."
"If you've been eyeing talent on LinkedIn or elsewhere, you know better than I do—narrow the list, organize it, and send it to my email."
"Understood, Manager!"
"Ahem... in that spirit, I have a simple request for the three of you. This is the data analysis team's first requirement."
"Just say the word."
"Ready!"
"This is the coach list I was given."
He pulled out his phone and showed the crude, name-only PDF Jocelyn had thrown together.
"We've got about thirty minutes until the meeting, and I can't search all of them on Google myself. How can we quickly investigate the coaches here—especially the French ones?"
William sat down and put his hands on the keyboard.
"AirDrop it to me and I'll scrape every scrap of information—existing or not—with a crawling technique."
"It won't take long, right?"
"The code's just a few lines."
"Ah! And I don't need everything—just enough to know their characteristics as coaches."
"If needed, we can have GPT summarize it."
"Perfect. Especially Coach Antoine Fournier—check if there's any possible disqualifying reason."
"So, a background check."
"Was three additional people not enough?"
"No! It's plenty! Leave it to us!"
Click-clack, the distinctive rapid-fire keyboard sounds filled the room.
Meanwhile, having given the orders, Han Shin leisurely drank coffee with Isaac.
"You give a different impression in person than on TV."
"Disappointed by the background check? It's not illegal. I'll do this much if it means winning."
"No—I hate Jocelyn for treating me like dirt. Please land an uppercut on him. And that's not it—you're amazing in another way. Like a storm..."
Treating him like dirt?
"Isaac, could we set up a video meeting with the Nebula Nexus data staff for tomorrow?"
"Hahaha! Manager, are you joking?"
"Why?"
"Thanks to you the game was a massive success—do you know how much revenue and operating profit the Nebula Nexus chairman has made? Even if you yelled 'Chairman, get out here right now!' he'd come running to Sunderland."
"Isn't that a bit of a fantasy...?"
I have met the Nebula chairman in person, though...
"I'll arrange the meeting for tomorrow myself. You came to Sunderland like the wind right after winning in London, so you might not know the atmosphere—those company employees treat Manager Han like a god."
"Talk about exaggeration... 'god' is a bit much."
I only check my phone sporadically—maybe that's why the battery drains so fast? Before I leave work I should buy a phone just for club contacts.
William let out a cheer.
"Yoo-hoo!!!! Wow! Found it!!!"
"Let's see..."
"This is...?!"
Found it. The winning card.
A total of eight top executives of the club gathered in the meeting room.
Familiar faces to Han Shin—Kyril, Speakman, Emily, Technical Director Jocelyn, and Scout Isaac attending in place of the vacant head scout position.
Also seated were Chief Executive Steve McMahon, whom he had met at the door on his first day, and Director Juan Sartori.
A stand microphone sat in front of each person.
And the film crew recording Han Shin's every step was there as always.
PD Peter in a black T-shirt printed with Black Cats, two cameramen, a writer, and a stenographer typing the minutes on a stenotype keyboard.
Kyril, in a light T-shirt and jeans instead of a sharp suit, took the mic and opened the meeting.
"July 3rd, 2026—the first transfer meeting of Sunderland's 'Han Shin era' begins. Sporting Director?"
Speakman stood.
"First agenda item. Captain Ballard has formally requested a transfer from the club."
Juan and Steve let out sighs of dismay.
"This can't be..."
"Ballard leaving the club..."
Speakman stated the facts.
"He first requested it of Manager Han Shin, who readily agreed. Is that correct?"
Camera flashes went off.
"Are you in your right mind?"
"Selling Ballard, the captain and core of the defense?"
"Isn't this all because of the manager appointment? Let's hear what you have to say."
Han Shin brought the microphone closer.
Almost like a hearing. Hoo...
"Exactly as you've heard. Ballard told me honestly and sincerely that he wants to fulfill his dream of the European Champions League at the peak of his career. I approved the transfer request to help him achieve that dream."
Juan shot to his feet.
"Dream... a dream? He's not a child. A dream? Good grief! Contracts aren't child's play!"
"A dream is the most powerful motivation a human being can have. There's also the consideration of letting Ballard, who has devoted himself to the club until now, move on to the next level... but..."
He pulled out the prepared copy of Ballard's contract.
"Ballard's contract has less than two years left. If we force him to stay one more year, we won't even get full value, and..."
Juan countered.
"No... Manager Han, is the price what matters? If Ballard leaves right now, who plays as the starting center-back in the league? It's a disaster, pure and simple. A disaster."
Jocelyn agreed with Juan.
"Exactly! Director Juan is precisely right."
"Is that so? In my view, the real disaster is if Ballard leaves on a free transfer under the Bosman Ruling and we let him go without receiving a single pound. That would be a disaster for the club, wouldn't it?"
The Bosman Ruling.
A rule and court decision named after the player Jean-Marc Bosman.
Normally a footballer signs a contract with a club for anywhere from one to five years.
During that period he plays as a member of the club.
But when the contract ends, where does ownership lie?
Suppose a player named Hong Gildong faithfully fulfills a four-year contract.
What happens to Hong Gildong once the contract expires?
If he wants to stay he re-signs; if he has completed the term, it seems common sense that he should be free to move to another team as a right earned by fulfilling the contract.
Because before he is a player, he is a free person.
Yet barely thirty years ago, even after a contract ended a player could not move to another club without the original club's permission.
He couldn't even play for the club until a new contract was signed.
A true "slave contract."
To fight that unjust system, a man named Jean-Marc Bosman filed a lawsuit. After a five-year court battle he won, and players regained their freedom.
That is the Bosman Ruling, and its famous key points are as follows:
1. A player whose contract has ended may freely move to another team regardless of the club's consent or any transfer fee.
2. From six months before the contract expires, the player may negotiate with other clubs.
In 2014, using this rule, Poland's goal machine Robert Lewandowski left Dortmund for Bayern Munich for a transfer fee of zero. Italy's pass master Andrea Pirlo did the same.
And in 2024, the former PSG striker Kylian Mbappé pocketed a 200-billion-won bonus and became the most expensive free agent in football history.
The background that allowed Real Madrid to contact him six months early and secure the contract was precisely this Bosman Ruling.
Ironically, the man who gave his name to the rule never transferred himself because of the prolonged court fight and went bankrupt—a bitter footnote.
Pointing out those facts, Han Shin poured out his argument.
"In the end, a player is a person. A person's dream does not end until death, and it cannot be stopped."
"...."
"Even Mbappé chased the dream he had as a child and moved to Real on a free transfer. PSG, which dragged out negotiations, received a blank scrap of paper instead of the blank check they might have gotten. Our club, right now, must sell Ballard while he is at his most expensive."
"Hmm..."
"Ahem..."
"Still, Ballard is the core of cores..."
"Let's call him the core of cores. But if a player's heart is already floating away, can he focus on defending?"
Faced with his logical answers and no real counter, Kyril stepped in.
"Then at this point we will vote for or against the sale of Ballard. Those in favor, please raise your hands."
The result was seven in favor, one against.
"With Technical Director Jocelyn's single opposing vote, the Ballard transfer agenda is passed."
Speakman immediately moved to the next matter.
"Before discussing player transfers, the urgent matter of reinforcing the coaching staff. Technical Director Jocelyn?"
Jocelyn casually tossed a USB to Isaac sitting beside him.
Without a word Isaac put the coach recruitment list up on the screen.
"The coach I strongly recommend to our manager is..."
....
You never show your full hand from the start.
He waxed eloquent about mediocre coaches for a while, and after several rounds the name Fournier finally appeared.
Fournier and Jocelyn.
Got him.
He would break this connection.