The Transfer Market Continues
It was a holiday morning bathed in unusually bright sunlight. The transfer market never sleeps.
Grayson’s body felt leaden, the aftereffects of yesterday’s bruising clash with Paris Saint-Germain and Merah’s furious tirade in the locker room still weighing on him. He had sworn he wouldn’t move a single step from bed today, but just as he closed his eyes, the doorbell shattered the silence.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
“Who the hell is it at this hour…?”
Grayson scratched his messy hair and opened the door. Outside stood David, bundled in a thick coat, one hand clutching a stack of documents, the other gripping a laptop bag. He beamed.
“Good morning, Grayson! Your agent personally bringing good news on a holiday morning—you really are blessed, you know that?”
“…Why are you here at this time? It’s a day off.”
Grayson frowned and stepped aside. David strolled in like he owned the place, dumping his things on the table.
“Holiday? Not during the winter window. Strike while the iron’s hot. Put some coffee on—I’ve got some incredible news.”
Grumbling under his breath, Grayson still fired up the espresso machine. The moment two cups hit the table, David flipped open his laptop and spun the screen toward him. It was filled with screenshots from French, English, and German sports weeklies, plus posts from reputable journalists.
“Take a look. The place went mad after yesterday’s match.”
David clicked one of the articles.
[Newcastle United eyeing Toulouse’s Grayson Lee as winter window nears its end]
“Newcastle are especially aggressive. Ever since the Saudi money came in, they’ve been desperate for a proven star. And here—Tottenham have been in touch too. Dortmund want to negotiate directly with you.”
Grayson had been watching the screen with mild disinterest, but the names Newcastle, Tottenham, and Dortmund made his eyes sharpen.
“Hmm… those are some big clubs.”
As Grayson muttered, chin resting on his hand, David excitedly pushed the laptop closer.
“Right? These are just expressions of interest, though. The clubs that have actually made formal offers are a bit smaller in stature, but they’re offering guaranteed starting spots and very attractive terms.”
David scrolled down.
“Villarreal in Spain—they’d start you immediately. RB Leipzig in Germany; they’re excellent at developing young talent. At twenty-six you’re right on the edge, but it’s still a solid fit. AS Roma are also desperate to strengthen their attack this window and have put concrete terms on the table.”
David took a sip of coffee, then spread his hands with his trademark sly grin.
“Grayson, if you just say the word and sign, you could be wearing a La Liga, Bundesliga, or Serie A shirt by next week. And who made all this possible? Your brilliant agent, of course.”
“Sign? What are you talking about?”
“Exactly what I said! When you joined last summer, I locked you in with a €40 million release clause and a three-year deal. At your current level, €40 million is pocket change for the big clubs. And because the contract is short, Toulouse will be happy to cash in while they still can. You should be thanking me for my foresight.”
David puffed up with mock arrogance, but Grayson knew exactly what was behind it. He swallowed a dry laugh and studied his agent.
Foresight, my arse…
Half a year ago, when Grayson had signed for Toulouse, €40 million had been nothing more than a safety net the club never expected anyone to trigger. The three-year deal had been the bare minimum to test the waters for both sides.
Still, there was no point in bursting David’s bubble. Grayson stayed silent, lost in thought. He turned the names of the clubs that had actually made offers over in his mind: Villarreal, Leipzig, Roma. And the interest from Newcastle, Tottenham, Dortmund. They were undeniably tempting. A move to a bigger club or league would be overwhelmingly beneficial for his career. If his goal was to become the best, leaving right now seemed like the obvious choice.
“So? Starting to see the appeal? I need to get back to these clubs, so don’t drag it out too long.”
David sipped his coffee and began packing up the laptop.
“I need a bit more time to think. It’s not something to rush.”
“Fair enough. Think it through. Whatever you decide, I’ll get you the best possible deal.”
David clapped Grayson on the shoulder and left.
Once the apartment fell quiet again, Grayson sank deep into the sofa and stared at the ceiling.
Is leaving now really the right move?
It was late January. The winter window was about to slam shut. If he activated his release clause and walked out now, Toulouse would lose a key player with no time to find a replacement. And because winter deals were always rushed, they would have to overpay—€40 million simply wasn’t enough to bring in someone of comparable quality.
If he left, Toulouse’s Champions League push would collapse. That strange sense of responsibility he had felt on the bus yesterday came rushing back. He couldn’t allow himself to abandon the team before they were safely in the Champions League spots.
And then another face surfaced in his mind.
Tete Kwasi.
Tete was an incredibly talented player. If, in his previous life, Grayson had stayed focused and eased the burden on his left-back partner, Tete might have enjoyed a long, successful career as a nailed-on starter at Manchester United. Instead, Grayson’s repeated clashes with managers and his physical collapse had dragged Tete’s career down with him.
The image of Tete sitting expressionless in the locker room yesterday, leg bouncing uncontrollably while Merah shouted, refused to fade.
Grayson bit his lip.
Becoming the best player in the world is still important in this life…
A heavy, resonant feeling stirred deep in his chest.
But this time, I want to help the people whose lives I ruined before.
If he abandoned Tete and flew off to Villarreal or Leipzig on his own, how would he be any different from the worthless Grayson of his past life? He couldn’t shake the feeling that the guilt would stay with him until he repaid that debt.
The hesitation in Grayson’s eyes vanished.
No transfer this winter. I’m staying at Toulouse.
Once he made the decision, his mind cleared. His gaze shifted higher, toward a slightly more distant future.
But when summer comes…
A faint smile touched his lips.
I’m going back to Manchester United.
Manchester United had been a club of love and hate in his previous life. He had given everything to them from the academy onward, yet the moment his form dipped they had discarded him on a free transfer. The sense of betrayal had lingered for years.
But looking back with the clarity of his second life, he realized they had given him every chance. They had endured the scandals and the decline, offering him opportunities even in the darkest times. He had been the one who squandered them. He had no right to resent the club.
He would spend the remaining half-season making sure Toulouse reached the Champions League, dominate Ligue 1, and drive his value sky-high. Then he would return to Manchester United on his own terms, in triumph.
If he did that, he could link up again with Tete when the left-back returned from his loan in the summer. It was the perfect scenario—one that would settle his debt to his teammate while also satisfying his own ambition to stand at the very top of the game.
Grayson picked up his phone and called David. The agent answered almost immediately.
—Hey, Grayson! Made up your mind already? Where are we going? Leipzig? Or Roma?
Grayson kept his voice calm and firm.
“David, tell every club that’s made an offer that I’m rejecting them.”
—What? All of them?
“Yeah. I’m staying here this winter. I’m going to get Toulouse into the Champions League. And…”
—……?
“Start preparing. Come summer, we’re going back to Manchester.”