It was an intramural rugby game.

Compared to Grande, who are stretched thin in terms of players, Manchester have a much more generous staffing, and with the addition of reserves, they can form a regular team of four fifteen to play in pairs. Today is the twelfth practice match, and it is also the most important one of the knockout rounds - some have been eliminated before, busy with love, physically weak, unresponsive, too strong in personality, and failed the exam.

The players on the pitch are now fighting for a spot, and with 10 months to go in the college football league, Manchester's rugby team is never short of games. Players need to perform, and in these months, the best performers are likely to get a crucial vote from the crowd and coach alike – in the University Football League, where they will face St York's rivals, who are also old and well-resourced, and this game will be more important than the championship and runner-up battle, and all the players who play and score in the game will become the darlings of the whole of Manchester.

The air was still a little cold in February, but the sun was shining, and it was as beautiful as gold, plated on tens of thousands of spectators, coaches, and players on the sidelines and on the field.

Sasha. Hopkins stood in the middle of the highest row of seats in the audience with a few books in his arms, and he overlooked the grass-covered "barbecue grill," where two groups of players were facing each other, one wearing a crimson jersey and a matching helmet, while his opponent wore a white jersey and wore a gold helmet.

Ordinary people looking down from Hopkins' position would never be able to tell who is who, and it may take a telescope to be able to see the numbers on a player's clothes, but Hopkins could easily recognize Beelzebub. Bisandi. He knew his friends and brothers all too well, and there was one, Avery . Farmer, who was also the one Hopkins had been keeping an eye on, applied to Manchester. The news came as a small surprise to the boys, as Avery was not the heart of the Manchester admissions officers in any way. For this, Chegalle. Bisandi also asked his old friend, and they got a response—Avery Brown. Famo was kept as a weapon, and whoever wielded it might not use it for the rest of their lives. But he wouldn't be happy to see it suddenly scrapped.

They also generously assured Bisandi that if Avery . The idiot of Famo has arrived to provoke Beelzebub again. Bissandi or Sasha. Hopkins's words, he will be punished extremely severely - they have warned him, with his last remaining relatives, they promise that he will be obedient - Chegalle. Bisandi was a little confused at first. For Bisandi had never received so much courtesy before, it was not until the messenger asked him to speak for Dr. Hopkins that it dawned on him.

"I thought they hated criminals." Chegalle. Bisandi said teasingly.

"I've been proven innocent," Anthony said. Hopkins said, "Thanks to you. The government compensated him a large sum of money, which Dr. Hopkins did not keep for the cot he slept in in the most oppressive prisons and psychiatric hospitals, and he used it all to buy expensive, elaborate and heartfelt gifts for some of the people he liked, along with handwritten notes, as if he were on the run. I never forgot the birthdays of my friends and patients and other memorable days. The doctors believed that they were more pleased to see those slender, slender and graceful, sloping slightly to the right than gifts. A familiar handwriting that only a flat-niped fountain pen can leave behind.

"It's strange why you didn't do that earlier."

"Probably because I'm a little lazy." The doctor said.

His answer was not entirely untrue, but Chegalle. Bisandi didn't have that authority to question him, Anthony. Hopkins never agreed to join the Bisandi family, which made it difficult for him to gain a foothold on Poseidon Island, which Chegalle didn't care about until he discovered that the doctor had so many friends who didn't seem to be afraid of the ghoul who had once eaten an entire symphony orchestra.

"Because they've eaten more people." Dr. Hopkins explains, "Although the way I eat it is different from me. ”

One of his best patients had half a dozen war brokers under his command. They roamed around, bringing him contracts for the arms business as many as snowflakes. The munitions had killed hundreds, if not tens of millions, of people, but he had never been upset about it.

"And what made him your patient?"

"For his cat." Anthony. Hopkins said. He also went out of his way to visit the little animal that made the owner so uneasy that he needed to visit the psychiatrist frequently, a gray shorthair cat that can be seen everywhere, male, and scared to death with a big temper.

Some people may think that his heart is as delicate and fragile as spider silk because of this, only Anthony. Hopkins knew that his heart was made of steel at all, and that his cat was only there to prove that he was still a normal human, otherwise he would have been a delicacy on the doctor's table long ago.

This patient loved his new doctor at Anthony. After Hopkins was sent to the harshest prison, he and several others managed to get him to a psychiatric hospital, where the doctors met Catherine.

Beelzebub was puzzled when he got the name from Bisandi, "I thought Dr. Hopkins would hate the people who started the war." "Anthony. Hopkins' home, parents, sister...... In short, everything that can be called good in his life was destroyed by war.

"He'll be jealous, too." Sasha said.

The audience screamed loudly and threw the sand. Hopkins dragged out the memories.

The sun was burning down his spine, it was hard to imagine, it was February, like the grass on the field, they were about to drip green - the players in the crimson jerseys had the upper hand that anyone could see at a glance, and no one knew that there were two Adepts in it, which was a little unfair, but they weren't here for sportsmanship - Beelzebub was running, and Avery was holding the ball, the coach was waving his fist, his voice was almost drowned out to the cries of the crowd, but Avery heard it clearly, He began to run a diagonal line, and when all the people chasing him thought he was going to push himself to the touchdown zone, he suddenly passed the ball about fifty feet from the touchdown line, and the white players behind him jumped up at the same time, hitting Avery with his broad back, four legs entangled, and four arms, two more who fell under their belt, and many more ran to Beelzebub. Bisandi, Avery passed the ball to him.

Fifty feet, it only takes three seconds, tick tock tick - charge successful, 6 points!

The supporters of the red team jumped up, and with just over a minute to go until the end of the game, the white team was thirty points behind, and there was no way to turn around in any case.

Sasha sat down, and there was a special victory parade after the game, and he didn't see Beelzebub so soon - the special thing about the victory parade in Manchester was that the winning players had to take off their armor and clothes, wear only underwear and socks, and shoes and walk slowly around the huge arena, surrounded by the beautiful girls of the cheerleading group, to the cheers of the spectators.

Beelzebub wasn't the tallest of the players, nor did he look the strongest, but he was very likable to girls. Some girls gathered outside the player's tunnel and waited for him to come out.

When Beelzebub reappeared at Sasha's side, he was filled with delicate little gifts, flowers wrapped in small slips of paper, and chocolates.

"This is...... Wine? "The lid of the wine in the soda bottle was opened, so the two Adepts could smell it with a slight sniff.

"She winked at me," Beelzebub said, "and it was a reminder to me." ”

"Before I got here, I never imagined there would be so much wine here." In addition to parties, students also try to "get" from cafeterias and specialty shops, and in the process of making maps, they have more than once encountered waiters and shopkeepers who suspected that they wanted to take something with them. Even if it's not a weekend, at dawn they often see people lying drunk in all sorts of strange places—in the dumpsters, under the benches, in the cavities of sculptures, on the handrails of staircase railings.

Sasha opened the bottle and poured the wine away.

"It's a shame." Beelzebub said, "At least you can use it for cooking." ”

"You're in a pinch," Sasha said, "and be careful." "They went through the other gifts one by one, there was no alcohol, and the only thing out of line was a box of condoms.

"I can't watch the next game."

"How?"

"An opportunity to visit the laboratory of the Manchester Medical School," Sasha said, "I can go and see that precious mule." ”

"They've cloned quite a few things," Beelzebub said, remembering a movie he once watched, "Do you think they're going to clone God?" ”

"What?"

"The shroud of Jesus, and the chalice that bears his blood, the spear of Longhimus, and perhaps his visceral cells on it."

"Liver," said Sasha, "the spear pierced Jesus in the flank, and there is indeed a good chance that it would touch his liver." But so many years have passed. ”

"The cells of the supernatural are tens or hundreds of times more active than ordinary people," Beelzebub said earnestly, "what about the Son of God?" ”

"The Holy See will not allow it," said Sasha, "and if the Messiah really walks in this world again, then the first to kill him will not be his enemy, but only his servant." ”

This is the philosophy of the current pope, who believes that paranormal beings are not angels or demons, they are only human beings.

(To be continued) (To be continued)

ps: There's another chapter I want to revise.,Send it out around noon tomorrow.。