Chapter Two: Eight Minutes at Twenty-Seven

After training, Zhao placed a bank card on the desk. “The squad gathered 230,000. Count them as season tickets.” “We still owe you wages,” Tang said. “All the more reason not to let the boss escape.” Zhao grinned. “He has to stay and repay us.” Gu offered no card. He logged into a social account untouched for years and uploaded fifteen seconds of video. Sitting alone in the empty stand, he said, “I scored again here. If there's something you refuse to let go dark, come sit beside me.” Ten minutes later, the campaign crossed two million. The final amount was 2.79 million—enough to cover part of the wages and survive the month. Amid the celebration, Tang placed an old invoice before Shen.