Chapter 477: Chapter 477

There were two names that Richard had marked as potential targets for Manchester City’s new fitness coach. The first was Gian Piero Ventrone—that was back when City had just risen to the Premier League. But when Richard reached out, Ventrone politely declined, choosing to remain loyal to Juventus.

As for the second, to be honest, Antonio Pintus’s name had come up almost by coincidence.

From what Richard heard, Pintus had not only sent his CV to Manchester City but also to Chelsea!

Thanks to that, Richard moved quickly to secure Antonio Pintus before Chelsea could. He immediately instructed Miss Heysen to make the first move.

After the awards ceremony, Manchester City naturally held a small celebration. The club gathered with all their players before they departed to join their national teams for the upcoming FIFA international fixtures.

That evening, the St. Pancras Renaissance Hotel in London buzzed with influential guests coming and going — a lively hub of activity.

Richard arrived in his brand-new Land Rover Range Rover 4.6 HSE. His Rolls-Royce had seen better days and frequently required maintenance, so he decided to switch to a new car. And guess what — he thought it was the perfect opportunity to capitalize on the moment and help promote the new model produced by Rover Group.

So, he reached out to Alan Mulally about the new car.

The media and the public were taken aback by the sight of the outdoor car display at the event — exactly as Richard had planned. He knew that the presence of the new Range Rover would turn heads and spark curiosity. Fresh chapters posted on n0velfire.net

As cameras flashed and reporters gathered around, snapping photos, many found it unusual to see this kind of car featured at such an event.

After stepping out of the car, Richard immediately greeted the guests and reporters before joining the players and staff who were already enjoying the evening. The event carried a lively, celebratory air — laughter, music, and camera flashes blending together beneath the soft lights of the hotel courtyard.

Not long after, Miss Heysen approached in a hurry. She leaned close and whispered something that made Richard’s expression tighten into a frown.

"Keith Wiseman and Geoff Thompson?" he muttered, his tone sharp with recognition.

FA Chairman, Keith and Vice Chairman: Geoff Thompson

Richard knew both men all too well. In the past, during his disputes with the FA, he had openly clashed with its leadership — particularly Graham Kelly, who had been implicated in a scandal involving an alleged improper loan of £3.2 million from the FA to the Football Association of Wales (FAW).

At the end of the day, Kelly resigned, and Wiseman stepped forward to replace him.

Richard’s mind shifted into high gear as he began questioning their true purpose for being there. It was supposed to be Graham Kelly who still held the position of Chief Executive, and Kelly and Wiseman had always been seen as a package deal. Now, Kelly had been dismissed — yet Wiseman was still around. And Geoff Thompson too?

Richard’s frown deepened.

"Understood. Take me to them," he said.

Miss Heysen nodded and led him toward the private room that had already been prepared.

Inside, Wiseman and Thompson were waiting eagerly. The moment Richard stepped in, both men rose to greet him.

"Congratulations!" Wiseman exclaimed with a broad grin. "Another trophy for Manchester City’s cabinet. Richard, your speed in collecting silverware is faster than a rocket! Hahaha!"

The remark caught Richard off guard. It was blatant flattery — and strangely, it didn’t sound like the Wiseman he knew. Their past interactions had always been professional, sometimes even paternal, with Wiseman speaking in a grandfatherly tone befitting his seniority within the FA.

Richard had never minded that. Given Wiseman’s position, a little deference was only natural. But in the cutthroat world of English football, many envied that chair, each one scheming for a step higher in the FA’s hierarchy. Richard had learned to play along with such men — it usually cost him nothing.

Tonight, however, something felt off. The warmth seemed too polished, too deliberate. Richard couldn’t help but grow wary. A thought lingered at the back of his mind — their presence here might not be just for congratulations.

He returned the courtesy with a polite smile and took his seat. Wiseman, ever cheerful, handed him the menu, but Richard waved it off gently and ordered directly from the waiter. He had been here enough times to know exactly what he wanted.

The dinner began pleasantly enough. During the first half of the meal, Wiseman and Thompson carried most of the conversation, reminiscing about Richard’s years at Manchester City — his journey since taking over as head coach more than four years ago.

They recounted every triumph, one after another — the Premier League, the Champions League, the Super Cup — each memory laced with pride, as if they had shared in the glory themselves.

Wiseman grew animated as he spoke of the moment Manchester City lifted their first Champions League trophy. His eyes gleamed as he said, "That victory made all of England proud. You put our football back on the world stage, Richard."

Richard simply ate, nodding and smiling politely, careful not to interrupt. He listened — but he didn’t quite believe the friendliness.

Something told him this dinner wasn’t just about celebration.

Once they had exhausted their flattery, Wiseman gave a subtle signal to Thompson, who immediately understood. From his briefcase, Thompson pulled out a document and handed it to Richard.

’Finally,’ Richard thought to himself.

He calmly wiped his mouth, thinking, ’At last — we’re getting to the point.’

Opening the folder with quiet curiosity, Richard found several neatly arranged documents inside — embossed with the Three Lions crest and marked Confidential – FA Executive Proposal.

The first page carried a bold heading: "England 2006: World Cup Host Nation Bid."

Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly as he read.

The proposal outlined England’s ambitious campaign to secure hosting rights for the 2006 FIFA World Cup, detailing government partnerships, stadium redevelopment plans, and projected economic benefits. It was polished, persuasive — and clearly expensive.

But what caught his attention wasn’t the glossy presentation. It was his name.

Halfway through the document, under the section titled Ambassadorial Committee – Key Public Figures, he found:

Richard Maddox — Technical Advisor & Global Spokesperson. To represent English football’s modern success and credibility before the FIFA Selection Committee.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze lifting toward Wiseman and Thompson.

"So," he said, his tone measured, "this is what this dinner’s really about."

Wiseman chuckled softly. "We prefer to think of it as an opportunity — for all of us. England needs strong voices, Richard. Did you know? You haven’t just proven yourself in football; you’ve become a symbol of England’s renaissance. With you on our side, the bid gains legitimacy — and power."

Thompson added, "It’s more than just a name. You’d be the face of our campaign abroad — Europe, South America, even Asia. Media appearances, meetings with FIFA delegates. You’d help us show that English football has evolved — that we deserve the World Cup again."

Richard leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on the table. He closed the folder slowly, eyes steady.

He had expected something political, but this... this was larger than he thought.

"I see," he said quietly.

Still, Richard took the document, scanned through it, and frowned in confusion. Setting it down, he asked, "How does this relate to me or Manchester City?"

Wiseman smiled broadly. "It does! The FA invites you to join our team. Isn’t your new stadium scheduled for completion in two years? By then, it could serve as one of the main venues for the 2006 World Cup."

Yes — the document also contained details about the FA’s bid to host the tournament.

Richard paused for a moment, considering his words. "But I don’t have the time," he said finally.

"This won’t take much of your time," Wiseman assured him. "You’re incredibly popular right now — both in football and in business circles. With your reputation and image, representing England as one of the delegation members would benefit you greatly."

Wiseman looked at Richard with eager eyes.

The FA clearly hoped Richard could become the face of England’s bid for the 2006 World Cup.But... was that really all there was to it?

Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly. On the surface, this offer seemed advantageous — more recognition, more prestige. Yet deep down, he sensed trouble. Financial trouble. Bureaucratic trouble. Everything about this plan depended on England actually winning the bid.

He closed the folder and thought for a long moment before shaking his head.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "But I must decline this offer."

Yes — his conclusion was clear. It was best to walk away.

He had three reasons.

First, England’s bid for the 2006 World Cup was doomed to fail. Richard didn’t want to be remembered as the ambassador of a failed campaign.

Second, it felt morally wrong for England to even bid. He recalled reading detailed analyses years ago — during the 1996 European Championship. England had successfully hosted Euro ’96 after a gentleman’s agreement with Germany: England would step back from their 2006 World Cup bid in exchange for Germany’s support in hosting Euro ’96.

Now, after enjoying the rewards of that deal, England wanted to reverse course — competing directly against Germany for the World Cup. To Richard, that felt disloyal and dishonorable. Worse, as a businessman, he knew he could easily be accused of lobbying or unethical influence if he got involved. Even though he had no connection to those earlier negotiations, the political fallout would certainly reach him.

Lastly, Germany was simply too strong.

Their campaign had overwhelming political and corporate backing. The German delegation was composed of influential figures from both government and industry, and the nation was united behind the bid. They were even willing to make economic sacrifices to win votes.

What could Britain offer to match that?

Richard knew the truth — England’s chances were slim to none.

He knew a lost cause when he saw one. And he wanted no part of it!

The World Cup was a grand, complex undertaking — a storm of politics, money, and influence. And no matter how wealthy Richard was, he couldn’t turn that tide.

Well, technically, he could. But not this time. Not on this battlefield.

After all, football wasn’t mathematics — there was no formula for winning hearts, nations, or FIFA votes. England’s campaign lacked the foundation it needed, and Richard had no desire to involve himself in something built on wishful thinking.

Wiseman and Thompson, however, were not ready to let go. Even after Richard’s polite refusal, they pressed on, their tone turning from charm to insistence.

"Think about it, Richard," Wiseman urged. "You’d be representing your country — this is bigger than football. You could help shape England’s legacy."

Thompson chimed in, "You’ve always talked about giving back to the game. This is your chance. The FA needs visionaries, not bureaucrats."

Richard sighed softly, folding his hands on the table. His expression stayed calm, but his voice carried the weight of finality.

"I’m a businessman," he said. "Not a politician, not a diplomat. I build things that work. But this—" he gestured lightly to the folder, "—this isn’t built to succeed. You’re asking me to endorse a dream that has no foundation. That’s not my way."

Wiseman exchanged a quick glance with Thompson, clearly frustrated but unwilling to show it.

Richard continued, his tone even but firm. "I respect what you’re trying to do. England deserves another World Cup someday. But not ."

For a moment, silence settled over the table. The tension was almost tangible, hanging in the air like a held breath.

Then Richard rose, buttoning his suit jacket with composed precision. "Gentlemen," he said evenly, "I appreciate the invitation. But my answer stands."

He gave a courteous nod before turning toward the door, leaving Wiseman and Thompson behind in the quiet hum of their own ambitions.

No matter how hard they argued, Richard refused to be drawn into their plans. He wanted no part in their schemes — political or otherwise.

Yet, no one in that room could have known that this seemingly simple meeting would set events in motion that would echo far beyond that evening.