The FA Cup quarter-final match was scheduled for March 7. But before that, Ethan remained focused on the league campaign.
Luton Town was fighting on two fronts: the League and the FA Cup. Ideally, Ethan hoped his team could go all the way in both competitions.
However, winning the league title was a tough challenge. Despite putting together another winning streak, Luton had failed to close the gap on the league leaders.
Wycombe Wanderers, aware of the pressure from teams below, had also hit a strong run of form. Their recent string of victories allowed them to maintain a ten-point lead over Luton.
After 30 rounds of league action, Luton had climbed to fifth place with 52 points—just one point behind fourth-placed Shrewsbury Town. At the top of the table, Wycombe led with 62 points, six ahead of second-placed Rochdale.
For Luton, the push for promotion was critical. With 16 games remaining in the season, they needed Wycombe to drop points—at least three losses and a draw—while keeping their own record nearly flawless.
Given Wycombe's current form, hoping for them to lose three of their last sixteen matches was wishful thinking. Ethan wasn't one to rely on luck, but realistically, that's all he could do—wait for Wycombe to slip up.
Fortunately, Luton still had one direct encounter with Wycombe remaining—in Round 41. Hosting Wycombe at Kenilworth Road might be their best chance to narrow the gap or even overtake them in the standings.
Meanwhile, as Luton's recent performances gained national attention, several of the club's key players had attracted interest from larger clubs. The media had already started labeling them as targets for the transfer window.
Ethan was under no illusions. He didn't expect to keep the entire squad intact at the end of the season. Luton, after all, was still a small club with limited financial muscle.
In the club office, club chairman David Morton sat across from Ethan.
"I've had offers from several clubs," Ethan admitted, gazing out the window toward the training ground.
Under the guidance of fitness coach Mel, the players were engaged in recovery training.
"But I don't think we should turn this team into a supermarket," Ethan said. "You know how much promotion to the Premier League would mean for Luton. Even without major signings, this squad has the potential to go up."
He stood up, facing the clearly hesitant David Morton.
"The Premier League is the most profitable league in the world. Staying patient and aiming for promotion will bring far greater long-term returns than a few short-term sales."
"I... I need the money now, Ethan," Morton replied, eyes downcast. Not long ago, he fancied himself the next 'Wolf of Wall Street,' but his recent investments had backfired, costing him dearly.
"Then go public," Ethan suggested. "The club's potential is obvious now. Listing on the stock market could raise significant capital."
"Go public?" Morton hesitated.
"Yes, like Manchester United. Their owners made a fortune after going public."
"But... that's Manchester United," Morton said, lacking confidence in his own club.
"What if we qualify for the Europa League next season—or even win it?" Ethan added, painting a bold vision.
After nearly a season at the helm, Ethan's ambitions had become clear.
He wanted to be the best manager in football. To do that, he needed to achieve things no one thought possible. Winning the FA Cup could elevate his name across English football and possibly earn offers from Premier League clubs—but that wasn't enough.
To get noticed by football's true elite, Ethan knew he had to win a major European title.
Could he lead Luton Town—still just a League One club—to glory in the Europa League?
He was determined to try.
Leading a League One team to Europa League glory—just the thought of it sent a surge of adrenaline through Ethan.
Even Mourinho guiding Porto to the Champions League title didn't carry this level of shock value. If Luton Town could pull this off, it would be one of the most remarkable stories in football history.
"Win the Europa League?!" David Morton looked stunned. "Come on, that's impossible. We're in League Two. How would we even qualify for the Europa League?!"
"The FA Cup," Ethan replied with conviction. Luton was more than just a club to him—it was his mission, his legacy in the making. And he intended to carve its name into history.
"We win the FA Cup!" he said again, more forcefully.
David stared at him, searching his face. What he saw in his manager's eyes wasn't madness. It was ambition—pure, unrelenting ambition.
"Think about it, David!" Ethan pressed on. "If Luton wins the FA Cup, we get a spot in the Europa League. The media coverage, the spotlight, the global recognition—it would skyrocket! That's the perfect moment to launch this club into the big leagues—maybe even go public with shares. It'll change everything!"
"And then," Ethan said, slamming his hand on the table, "next season, we win the Europa League!"
David Morton blinked. "That's… insane. Do you have any idea how hard that is?"
"Where do you think real money and fame come from, David? From playing it safe? No!" Ethan grinned, the fire in his eyes unwavering. "You've got to be crazy to make history!"
David Morton didn't want to admit it, but a part of him believed. Still, reality tugged at him.
"With this squad? Seriously?"
"Of course not!" Ethan stood, energized. "We'll rebuild. Reinforcements will come in. Next season, we strengthen properly."
That gave David a bit of relief. At least his manager hadn't completely lost the plot.
"But we don't have much of a transfer budget," David pointed out quickly.
"Then let's take a gamble." Ethan leaned in. "Picture it: tens of millions in prize money, massive broadcasting revenue, international exposure. That kind of return makes buying a few million-pound players now look like peanuts. You can't buy that kind of reputation."
David hesitated. It was tempting—very tempting. But then he snapped back. "The FA Cup is no cakewalk, my friend."
"Leave that to me." Ethan stared him down. "Let's make a bet, David."
"A bet? On what?"
"If we win the FA Cup, you give me full control over next season's transfer budget. I'll handle sales, renegotiate contracts—we'll make the funds work. But you've got to trust me to do it."
David mulled it over. It was bold. Risky. But technically, it wouldn't cost him anything right now.
"...Alright," he finally said. "I'm in."
Ethan's face lit up. "Good. Because this time next year, David… your club will be European champions."
David stared at him, speechless. Was this guy nuts—or was this how legends were made?
Maybe both.