He found it very strange that he could understand every English word, comprehend every sentence, as if it were an instinct. He was as familiar with the language and writing of this country, as well as some life skills, as he was with Chinese. Yet, he had forgotten some other very important things.

It was as if there was a gap in his memory; he couldn’t remember how, as Tony Dunn, he had trained the team or arranged tactics. He also wasn’t clear about his relationships, influence, or reputation at the club. Because of this, he couldn’t understand why the chairman was so friendly toward him. Sometimes, those lost memories would return, lingering in his mind for only a short while before disappearing again.

But he did know what kind of person the former Tony Dunn was. He was disciplined, taciturn, diligent, and hardworking. In his private life, he was like an ascetic—never touching cigarettes or alcohol, with hardly any romantic experiences, never visiting places of pleasure. Every day, apart from work, he would just go home to rest, living as methodically as Big Ben at London Bridge, striking out every rigid hour. He liked quiet, and the only activity that could be considered entertainment was listening to classical music with headphones in his own room.

“Damn it!” After pulling up information about Tony Dunn from the depths of his memory, the current Dunn couldn’t help but curse, “This is practically someone living in the Middle Ages—so boring! How can there be such a person in the world?!”

Dunn summed it up for himself. This body wasn’t really his; it belonged to someone called “Tony Dunn,” a man from the Middle Ages, so he possessed the bodily instincts of someone familiar with life in England. At the same time, his own Dunn’s heart was beating in this body, so he also had a personality completely different from these instincts.

Thinking about it now, he even had to thank yesterday’s embarrassing incident. It let everyone know he’d suffered a head injury, so he didn’t have to worry about anyone suspecting why Tony Dunn’s personality had changed so drastically.

Tired from walking, Dunn sat on a bench by the street to rest, then began to seriously consider how he could become a successful coach and not let the old chairman’s trust in him go to waste.

He buried his head in thought for a long time, but had no clue. He didn’t know how to train a team, nor did he know how to make the team win. The football manager games he’d played before were of no use at all now. He wasn’t familiar with any of the Forest team’s players—at least, not as he was now. He couldn’t just point fingers like when watching a televised match, saying: the head coach should put this person on, let that person play on the left, have that person attack more aggressively… Facing a completely unfamiliar team, no matter how many games Dunn had watched, he had no idea where to start.

Even worse, he didn’t have much time to prepare. The team had a day off today, but would regroup tomorrow to prepare for the FA Cup third round match on the 4th, against West Ham United from the Premier League.

Currently, Forest had suffered three consecutive defeats in the league, and the newly appointed head coach had made a huge fool of himself on live TV, so morale was extremely low. Although West Ham United weren’t having a great time in the Premier League either, they were still much stronger than Forest.

Dunn gave a wry smile: “When it rains, it pours… If this is fate’s arrangement, then all I can say is: fuck you, fate!”

Annoyed, Dunn looked up and saw a fairly large pub on the corner across the street. Seeing the word “Pub” above the door, he decided to go in for a drink and temporarily put his worries aside.

“Traveling to England isn’t all bad—at least the abundance of pubs everywhere is a good thing.” Dunn muttered to himself as he crossed the street and pushed open the heavy, reddish-brown door.

※※※

“Sorry, we’re not open yet. I forgot to hang the sign on the door…” Hearing the door, a middle-aged man behind the bar looked up while wiping a glass, but when he saw who had come in, he froze.

Dunn also froze, because he recognized that the man with a cigarette in his mouth was the same one who had bought him a drink last night—Kenny Burns. Last night, he’d been in a foul mood and had made a mess of the man’s bar. He hadn’t expected to end up here again!

Dunn’s immediate reaction was to back out, look up at the pub’s sign, then come back in and look around. “How the hell did I end up here?” he couldn’t help but curse.

Burns looked at him with interest: “Looks like that bump on the head yesterday really changed our Tony Dunn’s personality.”

It was a good excuse, and Dunn went along with it: “I know, the old me… uh, I never swore, as quiet as a woman. Not open yet? Then I’ll try somewhere else…” He turned to leave, but Burns’s hearty laughter rang out behind him.

“Don’t bother. No pub opens before eleven thirty in the morning.”

Dunn turned back, a little embarrassed: “I… I rarely come, so I didn’t know.”

“Not rarely—you’re only here for the second time today. I told you, you used to live like a true Puritan. Hope you don’t mind me saying so?”