There were three minutes of stoppage time in this match, but as early as the 80th minute, Luton fans had already started their celebrations.
Leading 4-1, Luton's defense remained rock solid, making a comeback impossible for the opposition in the final minutes. The broadcast frequently cut to shots of the jubilant home crowd and head coach Ethan on the touchline. Even their opponents today, the Daning Port team, seemed to have resigned themselves to defeat. They passed the ball around aimlessly in their own half, while Luton showed no urgency to press forward. Daning Port knew that the moment they attempted to attack, Luton's relentless pressing would smother them. Wherever they received the ball, they found themselves surrounded by multiple Luton players, as if the team had twice as many men on the pitch.
This overwhelming pressure drained Daning Port of any remaining fight, and they quickly surrendered to the inevitable. Today belonged to Luton; there was no room for spoilers.
The referee didn't even let stoppage time play out fully before blowing the final whistle. Daning Port's players didn't bother protesting—it was Luton's moment to celebrate. Without delay, they exited the Stadium through the tunnel, while the home fans erupted in cheers.
And it wasn't just the stadium—across Luton, in pubs large and small, fans raised their glasses in triumph.
"Long live Luton!!!"
On the pitch, Luton's players threw their arms in the air before rushing toward the dugout to celebrate with the coaching staff. At some point, someone shouted an idea, and within moments, Ethan was hoisted into the air, tossed up repeatedly by his ecstatic players.
"Ethan has completely won over this squad," exclaimed commentator Letkinson. "It only took him two months to establish absolute control over this team. He was named League Two's Manager of the Month for August and September, and unless something unexpected happens, October's award will be his as well."
As Ethan landed on his feet, slightly pale from the ordeal, the players laughed and scattered.
"Looks like tomorrow's day off is canceled!" he thought, still catching his breath.
"From this moment on, every team in League Two should take notice. A monster has arrived—a relentless points-collecting machine!" Letkinson declared.
In League Two, the bottom two teams face relegation. Luton had started the season with a 30-point deduction, but after 10 matches, they had clawed their way back to zero, erasing the deficit. Meanwhile, the teams currently in the relegation zone—Grimsby, bottom of the table with just four points from four draws and six losses, and Barnet, with only seven points from two wins, a draw, and seven defeats—looked unlikely to escape danger. Just above them, 22nd-placed Accrington and 23rd-placed Morecambe were also teetering on the edge, both sitting on eight points.
Given their performances this season, Luton's celebrations were more than justified. They were only a few points away from escaping the drop zone entirely, and at this rate, survival was well within reach.
Ethan took in the scene—the ecstatic players, the roaring fans—and allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. This was just the beginning of his managerial career, but already, it was a small success. He had pulled a broken team out of despair and reshaped them in his image. Here, in this club, his voice carried weight. He had control, authority, and the freedom to implement his footballing philosophy.
Luton was his project, his sapling, once withering but now taking root, sprouting, and bursting with new life.
Meanwhile, far from the celebrations, Lin Sen sat in front of his television, watching it all unfold. Ethan stood tall on the screen, a confident smile on his face, hands on his waist—an emperor surveying his conquered land.
Lin Sen's eyes dimmed. He was in his final year of university, on the verge of graduation, and had begun searching for internships.
With a degree in pure mathematics, his options were limited unless he pursued postgraduate studies. His family was financially stable, and further studies were an easy choice—stay in academia for a few more years, delay the inevitable decisions of adulthood until nearly 30.
But Lin Sen didn't want that. Yet, if not academia, then what?
His eyes flicked back to the screen, where Ethan's team continued celebrating. Suddenly, an idea struck him.
He reached for his desk, pulled out a key, and unlocked a small cabinet. Inside, he retrieved a thick notebook.
This was his personal project—the player database he had compiled over four years, meticulously tracking the Brazilian league and the English Championship.
Page after page, dense with statistics, scouting notes, and analysis.
This was his true passion. He had spent countless hours watching matches, recording data, analyzing patterns. He had never seen it as work—but now, could it be something more?
At that moment, the door to his dorm room swung open.
"Old Lin, what are you watching?"
His three roommates had just returned from an internet café, having spent their evening gaming.
"There's a campus recruitment event tomorrow. You coming?" one of them asked.
"What job opportunities are out there?" Lin Sen hesitated.
"Let's see what options you have now. Your career prospects seem too limited. Maybe you should seriously consider graduate school."
A group of soon-to-be graduates sat discussing their futures.
Where does my future lie? Lin Sen wondered.
He ran his fingers over the hard cover of his notebook, as gently as if he were tracing the smooth surface of a football.
Just then, the stadium's live broadcast cut off, and the screen switched back to the studio.
Lin Sen recognized the voice—it was Letkinson, the well-known English commentator. He switched off the TV, stood up, and glanced outside. The wind rustled the clothes hanging by the window.
A dream?
My dream is the pitch!
Memories flooded his mind—those childhood days of sneaking off to play football.
Getting caught and forced to write a self-reflection by the head teacher…
Apologizing to the neighbor after shattering their window with a stray shot…
Limping home, bruised from head to toe, after a rough game, afraid his family would find out…
Lin Sen had once dreamed of being a professional player. But that dream had been crushed early. His family's opposition forced him to let it go.
By the time he turned eighteen, he was just another high school science student—an age when top players were already breaking through, yet he was drifting further from his dream.
Even in college, his passion for football never faded. He devoured matches, analyzed tactics, and collected player data. He even took coaching courses and earned his D-level coaching license.
Now, as he stared at an image of Ethan on his screen, he made up his mind.
He was going to chase his dream.
"Guys, lend me some money!!" Lin Sen turned to his roommates, determined.