Training outside.
Looking at this scene through the glass, Zhao Sanpang put down the timer in his hand.
Feng Yi, who was dressed in a suit, walked over, and like him, he set his eyes on those teenagers wearing the same uniforms: "Now, don't you feel relieved?"
"It's not that simple." Zhao Sanpang has always been a heartless character: "We used to play games, why did we need to be like this, when we were young, we were the least wary of people, now..."
Having said that, he withdrew his gaze: "Your Emperor Alliance is just such a simple person."
"Fat God." Feng Yi wiped his glasses with a commercial air: "Personal attacks are too much."
"Okay." Zhao Sanpang pulled a chair and sat there: "I'm only targeting you and Qin Mo, you two, right, you were very calculating people back then, don't tell me, look I can't tell how useless our team is now, there are problems everywhere."
"North is already being resolved." Feng Yi smiled, full of vigor: "Fat God, you are the coach of the team, at least you must be more stable than a junior."
"I can't be steady." Zhao Sanpang looked at the scattered team members sitting over there: "These people, every one of them, are hostile to the little one, unconvinced and incompetent. People who are better than him come out, this is the World Series, what are they doing here, do they know! They don't know, they only count their fame and fortune!"
The more Zhao Sanpang talked, the louder he said: "Some people just follow their tricks, just that one, the one sitting next to the projector, has a messy private life, makes excuses for losing in 1v1, has no sense of time, wants to come Round tour, let him go on his own, how did he get in, I didn't watch the domestic breakout match, a dozen people played around two people, it's fucking, they, their fans said it was fair!"
bang!
Zhao Sanpang stood up, his eyes darkened: "Choose a bunch of trash, what kind of World Championship?"
With this sentence, all the players cited are looking this way.
Suy, who was named by name, couldn't hold back anymore, and slammed the door crying: "In the individual competition, I will speak for my results."
boom!
The balance in the room was upset.
Tou looked at Zhao Sanpang: "Fat God, you and bey are familiar, we all know it, but we can come here because of our real skills and thousands of people who support us. We players, it's your mouth , have become trash? I think this is good, we won't play the game, and we won't be the starter anyway, so you can take your bey and sprint for the championship."
After finishing speaking, he pulled his team uniform jacket and spat viciously into the trash can.
The inside and outside words are full of sarcasm, and the eyes are even more unkind.
He knocked on the table, and several players left the training room with him.
Before this team came, there were 13 people including substitutes, all of whom were top players in each position selected in China.
Now, apart from Hei Yan, only Huan Leng was left in the training room.
There is also Adolf, who knows nothing, and is on the road trying to find a way to blow up the king of green tea in his mind.
As soon as I arrived in Milan, before the game started, people's hearts were scattered.
Huan Leng lowered his eyes and looked at his right wrist brace, which was given to him by someone in the youth training camp.
The Huaxia team that he dreamed of coming to is no longer like before...
(end of this chapter)