200 Fatal Weakness (1/2)

In the next fifteen minutes, almost every one of Modifications was attacking in full force. Those guys were getting desperate. They seemed not to care about their lives anymore, gambling with their own dignity and credit despite everything.

They looked at the Music History department as if they were looking at enemies who had killed their fathers. They were so angry, so desolate. If a dirge was played now, it would be a great epic poem of revenge.

The turbulent aether burned most of the field into ashes. Ruins were scattered on the rest of the place. Even the goals on both sides had become crooked, almost razed by James's self-destructive attack. Unfortunately, it did not work.

The history department was two points ahead. Their players stood before the goal, then…Charles, that b*stard, froze the goal into a giant ice cube.

Bench Guy guarded outside and demonstrated how to build battlefield fortifications. It could be said to be a model example. Even the most fastidious professor would nod and praise it. The history department gained a lot fans back with this move.

In the end, the referee’s shrill whistle announced the end of the most humiliating game held by Royal Academy of Music. It finally ended…

On the stands, everyone let out a sigh relief, as if they were the survivors of a catastrophe. In this short game, all of them felt that their views towards the world had been strongly tested and shattered. In thirty minutes, their limits had been challenged four or five times. When the whistle sounded, they were already numb.

The eyes looking towards the music history team grew strange. Some of them were stunned and some of them were disdainful; others were slightly frightened.

No matter what, the team that had always been ignored by others had just won the game. They only had four people plus a dog to fight against the promising team of Modifications, but they managed to win two to zero.

They did use some means which were indescribably shameless, but they did win at last, and that made them legends.

They were the classic example of underdogs, causing many to be secretly shocked. Gazing at the young people hugging each other and cheering, their expressions involuntarily grew awed.

On the field, Bai Xi cheered excitedly while hugging Old Phil, running all over around and screaming. Ye Qingxuan saw her excited appearance and smiled wordlessly.

Behind him, Charles patted Bench Guy on the shoulder. ”It’s all thanks to you. I'm sorry that I doubted you before.”

”I'm just doing my job.” Bench Guy smiled, not upset at all. ”Besides, now you trust me, don’t you?”

Charles sighed and looked into the eyes of Bench Guy with a troubled expression. ”Hey, you, are you a saint?” He always felt that he was blinded by Bench Guy’s radiance. Was this the so-called human brilliance? ”Don’t you care about being doubted and distrusted?”

Hearing this, Bench Guy shrugged after a moment of silence. ”Maybe I'm just used to it.”

-

Right at the exit, Ye Qingxuan saw James, who had waited for a long time. Seeing that Ye Qingxuan was coming over, James hummed coldly. He shook off his companions who were propping him up and limped over. He said hoarsely, ”Don’t be too proud. You’re just two points ahead.”

Ye Qingxuan looked up at his dark expression. He felt no pressure and just shrugged. ”Two points still made me a winner.”

James immediately wanted to hit him. He clenched his jaw and growled, ”I’d like to see how far you can go with that set of despicable tricks.”

Ye Qingxuan smiled and patted his shoulder. ”Don’t think too much. You lost the game, but you gained our friendship!”

What f*cking friendship was this? Winning hatred was more like it!

But this did not stop Ye Qingxuan from emphasizing James’s previous words of ”friendship first, competition second.” There was nothing to be won with snide comments, but that did not matter.

Behind him, James growled angrily, ”You won't be so proud for too long! People who use those crooked means will never win the final victory!”

Hearing this, Ye Qingxuan could not help but laugh. ”Win? Who said we want to win?”

Yes, Ye Qingxuan’s team, since the beginning, had never gone intended to win the trials, but to not lose. It was clear from the players of the music history team.

What they had was: a failure who was stuck at the Rhythm level for eight or nine years; Ye Qingxuan, who had just entered the Rhythm level and was still building his foundation; and Bai Xi, who was not interested in music and always cut class; and a dog.