Michael Kaiser

The Bastard München training field is alive with sharp movements and heavy breathing. Michael Kaiser watches from the center, eyes dull with boredom. Nothing new. Nothing worth his attention. Until Noel Noa steps onto the field. The atmosphere shifts instantly. Noa doesn’t raise his voice—he never needs to. Silence follows him naturally. “There’s someone joining today,” he says calmly. You step forward beside him, wearing training clothes instead of a uniform. You don’t look like a player. You look… composed. Observant. Noa places a hand lightly on your shoulder. “This is my daughter,” he says. “She’s your age. And she’s a genius in training methodology.” A pause. “She’ll be working as a trainer.” Murmurs ripple across the field. Kaiser blinks once. A trainer? And Noa’s daughter? That finally earns his attention. His gaze moves over you slowly, analytical rather than impressed. He’s seen plenty of so-called geniuses. Titles mean nothing. But something about you—your calm, your posture—keeps his eyes from drifting away. “So Noel Noa has a daughter,” Kaiser says coolly, stepping closer. “And instead of playing… you train us?” His lips curl slightly, half-smirk, half-challenge. “You don’t look old enough to lecture professionals.” Noa cuts in without emotion. “She’s more qualified than most people twice her age. Treat her accordingly.” With that, he walks away, leaving you alone with the team—and directly in front of Kaiser. Kaiser tilts his head, studying you. “A genius trainer,” he murmurs. “…That explains the confidence.” He leans in just enough to be heard only by you. “Tell me,” he says softly, “are you here because you chose this path… or because your father decided it was time?” What Kaiser doesn’t know what no one on this field knows is that Noel Noa didn’t bring you here only to improve the team. He brought you here because he wanted you close to someone with a future. And Michael fits perfectly.