The score remained 2-0 until the end of the first half, and the players from Cardiff City and Portsmouth returned to the dressing room one after another, but it was interesting to say that the dressing room of the victorious Pompey Army was quiet, and all eyes were focused on Louis, who had changed his cabinet, and there was surprise and jealousy, but no one spoke. On the contrary, the locker room of Cardiff City, the loser, in addition to the team members, there are a lot of "idle people, etc.", they are the team's masseurs, physiotherapists, doctors, and even an equipment manager who doesn't know where to go, everyone is talking, messy, like hundreds of quacking ducks.

In the Middle Ages in Europe, there was a tradition of knightly duels, and each knight was given a groom, two freeriders, three craftsmen, and five or six large soldiers, and the condition of the dressing rooms in Cardiff City resembled that of the corrupt Middle Ages.

"Gunnarson, the coach certainly doesn't like the trouble he's bringing," Tom Heaton complained, pointing to the messy dressing room.

"It's a problem from the boss," the Icelander corrected him with a frown, "I promise you these guys have nothing to do with the coach." ”

While they were talking, there were some idle people outside the locker room, several strong men in black clothes and black pants, one of whom was carrying an aluminum alloy safe. These people don't talk nonsense like those professional physical therapists, put down their things, open the box and leave, and when they see the contents inside, "It's scary", Heaton shuddered.

"It's a big deal" Gunnarson couldn't help but look at it twice, the box was full of cash, stacked after stacked, tired as high as a hill, just a glance can roughly estimate at least more than 10 million US dollars. There were 50 bundles of cash piled up in a mountain and lined up in columns, which was easy to count.

Neil trembled and was about to say a few words while everyone was attracted by money, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a middle-aged man wearing a special costume in Southeast Asia walked in, thin and short, with a double chin, and a red face: "Everyone, if you can beat your opponent in the second half, the fifteen million dollars in the locker room will be all yours." ”

Hearing the translator's statement, oh, more than that, Gunnarson muttered quietly. The middle-aged man continued to speak: "The 20 million winning prize I promised before the game will still be transferred to your account after the game, and I will add 5 million euros to score another goal!" "The Southeast Asian is flushed, and his blood pressure must be very high now.

"Okay, I won't bother Coach Neil to set up tactics" The middle-aged man bowed very modestly, and then exited the players' locker room, no more than 2 minutes before and after.

The Cardiff City players were frightened, and two of the bold ones stepped forward to touch the mesmerizing scented banknotes, and both of them had red eyes.

The players are like this, but Neil slumped on the bench at the edge of the dressing room, if he was ashamed before, then now he feels like the military prostitute in the documentary, the people in the barracks one after another, each of them a silver dollar, his hands soon can't hold so much money, and finally an officer, the officer always gives more than the soldier, he gives a gold.........

The pick-up received the pick-up with his legs closed, and the metal in his pocket clanged when he walked.

Neil felt that he was such a shameful character, and his self-esteem was completely trampled under his feet.

"Oh, brothers, get rid of those Southerners" I don't know who hit the head, and more than half of the players in the locker room began to raise their arms and chant. There are not many people who think calmly, people die for money, birds die for food, and that's it.

When the bell rang at halftime, Cardiff City had no idea how the fifteen minutes had happened, their manager was silent with a pen and paper in his hand, his face facing a tactical board, as if he wanted to dig out all the secrets inside.

……………………

On the other side, Brent once again followed the others onto the pitch, and because of the excellent performance in the half, there was no reason why Ward should not continue to give him a chance. But even so, he still walked alone in the middle of the team, he has always been alone, there are 22 people playing on the field, except for Margery, none of whom can be called friends, most of them are two or three years older than him, but he is not even half of the sixteen-year-old Margery when he kicks the ball. Mendy is explosive in physicality but poor in footwork; Meunier always put himself as a striker; Drinkwater has excellent vision, and as a result, he only kicks out without rhythm; Rudiger is sluggish and clumsy, and likes to grab; Although Ali is fierce, he is always brainless, and the more he is teammates with them, the more Luis despises them.

Walking to the playing field, everyone formed a circle, Brent kicked the mud on his shoes, deliberately ignoring them, and he continued to observe the situation on the field in an orderly manner.

"What are you looking at, Louis, come here," Margery and the others put their shoulders on each other in a circle, leaving a place for him.

Brent came over and prayed with the rest of the guys, which is a habit on the pitch and will bless you from injury. "Sorry, I just got distracted," he smiled and apologized.

"Hey, little melon, we still have 45 minutes to play, and it's not a weak time," said captain Enyeama, looking at his new companion.

Louis was unimpressed: "But I won!" ”

"No," Enyeyama held out his big glove, "the stupid bird on the other side lost." ”

A few people were snickering, but Brent knew he couldn't talk back, he needed to keep beating every opponent to keep the ridicule and ridicule silent, and then reclaim the ground that belonged to Portsmouth's youth.

……………………

At the beginning of the game, the feeling of pressure suddenly hit him like a mountain, and he smoothly passed the ball from the backcourt, and there was a sharp pain in his thigh, and the pain was transmitted directly down the nerve to the head, and there was no other sensation just pain.

These bitches raised it! The first lesson of any football is to protect himself, and he never forgets it, but no one told him that Cardiff City would suddenly be rough, and neither would Hydward, without warning.

He cursed twice, but the pain seemed to dissipate as the scolding slowly dissipated, and Louis struggled to get up, his hair was full of grass clippings, and his clothes were full of mud, all ruined! All ruined! The image he had worked so hard to maintain was wiped out.

"Shhh Louis rubbed the meridians in his thigh, and although it hurt, it didn't seem like a big deal, and thankfully, he was secretly glad.

Brent, who came to his senses, began to scan his surroundings to see if anyone had come to check on him, but nothing turned out and the perpetrator had fled. A sense of desolation once again gripped his heart, and even his dearest Margery abandoned him at the end of the pitch, which made him feel even more heartache.

"Margery !!" A loud yelling pulled his mind back completely, and Luis saw Hydeward's hideous ground hole, which he had never seen a manager like this.

With a turn of the head, Portsmouth's backfield was full of red and blue players, Mendy and one of the opposing strikers were quick to meet and fight directly, one person in the crowd was lying motionless on the ground, the team doctor was running towards the pitch in the distance, and the referee's right hand was conspicuously raised with a "red".

What happened? Louis? Brent's whole body fell into an ice cellar.