The atmosphere around Miraflores changed after six days.
Not dramatically.
Subtly.
Training sessions became louder. Arguments became sharper. Players ran harder during drills. Recovery staff started complaining about overload intensity.
And for the first time in months…
The training ground actually felt competitive.
Malik noticed it immediately.
Professional footballers adapted quickly when survival entered the room.
Especially when they realized reputations no longer protected them.
---
Thursday morning.
Tactical session.
The players gathered around the magnetic board while rain hammered softly against the training facility roof.
Malik placed the final marker carefully.
"Again," he said.
The attacking shape rotated quickly this time.
Better.
Not good enough yet. But better.
He pointed toward Adrian Vega.
"When the fullback steps inside, what happens?"
Adrian answered immediately now.
"I attack the half-space."
"Why?"
"To pin their center-back and open the overlap."
"Good."
Raúl watched the exchange quietly from the back.
The young winger had improved noticeably already.
Not technically.
Mentally.
The squad slowly began understanding something dangerous about Malik:
He noticed everything.
Training effort. Body positioning. Defensive laziness. Emotional reactions after mistakes.
Everything.
That made players uncomfortable.
Because most managers eventually favored personalities.
Malik favored details.
And details didn't care about status.
---
Later that afternoon, Elena entered Malik's office holding a folder.
"You've got your first press conference tomorrow."
Malik barely looked up from the match footage.
"Hm."
She frowned.
"That's your reaction?"
"What reaction should I have?"
"Panic would be normal."
That finally earned a small smile.
Malik paused the footage.
Real Oviedo B.
Current league position: 11th.
Young. Aggressive. Energetic.
Their pressing structure was inconsistent but dangerous in transitions.
"We can hurt them," Malik murmured.
Elena dropped the folder onto his desk.
"You should focus on surviving the media first."
He opened the folder casually.
Immediately regretted it.
Questions already prepared by journalists:
Are you too inexperienced?
Why should fans trust you?
Can players older than you respect your authority?
Is this appointment just publicity?
What happens if results fail immediately?
Malik exhaled slowly.
Football really was politics.
---
Friday. Press conference day.
The media room at Estadio Municipal de Miraflores was completely full.
Far fuller than usual.
Because chaos attracted attention.
And a 22-year-old manager in professional football?
That was chaos.
Camera flashes exploded the moment Malik entered beside Elena Ruiz.
Journalists immediately began whispering among themselves.
He looked younger under the lights somehow.
That only made the skepticism worse.
Malik sat calmly anyway.
Microphones pointed toward him like weapons.
The moderator barely finished introductions before hands shot upward.
"Malik," one journalist began immediately, "do you honestly believe you're ready for professional football?"
Straight into blood.
.
Malik adjusted the microphone slightly.
"I suppose we'll find out."
A few chuckles spread across the room.
Another journalist leaned forward.
"Many supporters believe the club hired you for publicity rather than football reasons. What would you say to them?"
Malik answered calmly.
"Winning matches creates the best publicity."
More typing immediately followed.
Another voice:
"You're younger than several players in the dressing room. How do you expect to control experienced professionals?"
Ah.
There it was again.
Age.
Always age.
Malik leaned back slightly.
"Footballers care about one thing more than anything."
"And what's that?"
"Improvement."
The room quieted slightly.
"If players believe you help them win, age becomes less important."
A reporter near the front frowned.
"And if they don't?"
Malik's response came instantly.
"Then I fail."
That surprised the room slightly.
Honest answers were dangerous in football.
Another journalist jumped in quickly.
"Do you understand how serious the club's relegation situation is?"
"Yes."
"No fear?"
Malik looked directly at him.
"Fear exists everywhere in football."
Silence.
"The difference is whether fear controls your decisions."
That quote instantly triggered louder typing across the room.
Elena noticed.
Good headline material.
Dangerous headline material too.
Then came the inevitable question.
"Reports suggest you've introduced extremely intense training methods already. Some senior players are unhappy. Are you worried about losing the dressing room?"
Interesting.
Leaks already.
Professional football truly never waited.
Malik stayed composed externally.
Internally? He made a mental note immediately.
Someone inside the squad was talking.
Useful information.
"I think demanding standards and losing dressing rooms are two different things," he replied calmly.
Another journalist smirked.
"But can you truly handle professional egos?"
Malik finally smiled slightly.
Small. Sharp.
"I'm not asking players to like me."
That got attention instantly.
"I'm asking them to compete."
The room buzzed louder afterward.
Even Elena glanced sideways briefly.
That line would spread quickly.
Then finally, the oldest journalist in the room raised his hand slowly.
Unlike the others, his voice carried no mockery.
Only curiosity.
"You speak confidently," the man said. "But this league destroys coaches every season. Why take this job at your age?"
The room quieted completely now.
Good question.
Probably the best one so far.
Malik thought briefly before answering.
Then:
"Because difficult things are worth doing."
No arrogance.
No dramatic speech.
Just truth.
And strangely…
That answer silenced the room more than any tactical explanation could have.
Later that night, social media exploded again.
"I'm not asking players to like me. I'm asking them to compete."
"Fear exists everywhere in football."
"Then I fail."
Some fans loved it.
Others called him arrogant.
Pundits debated him endlessly on television.
Former players questioned his methods.
One headline simply read:
"GENIUS OR DISASTER?"
Meanwhile, inside the Miraflores dressing room, players quietly watched clips from the press conference on their phones.
Some laughed.
Some rolled their eyes.
But a few…
Started believing him slightly.
And belief, Malik knew, was football's most dangerous weapon.