Emily Clark is introducing some information about the newly established team to Brian Carter. Since you are going to try out for this team and may play for them in the future, naturally you need to learn about them. Although Brian Carter might have already heard rumors about this new team from various sources while working at Dons Bar.

“AFC Wimbledon was founded by Wimbledon fans themselves. Because we needed a team that could represent Wimbledon. That rich people’s team couldn’t do it, so we did it ourselves. Fortunately, the fundraising went very smoothly, which just shows how foolish those who ignore the fans are.”

Brian Carter didn’t witness the fundraising scene, because they couldn’t possibly carry big boxes around the neighborhoods collecting cash donations. The vast majority was done via bank transfer, which Brian Carter couldn’t see. But he had witnessed the enthusiastic discussions about donations at Dons Bar. His boss, Mr. John, reportedly donated ten thousand pounds in one go, which was no small sum.

Suddenly, Brian Carter thought of a question: “Do people like me really not need a work permit?” Brian Carter was very familiar with the work permit system in English professional leagues—it was extremely strict, with no room for negotiation.

Emily Clark knew what Brian Carter was worried about.

“We’re an amateur team, playing in an amateur league, so we don’t need a work permit.” She reassured Brian Carter.

“Can an amateur team also represent Wimbledon?”

“Almost all professional clubs in England started from where we are now,” Emily Clark didn’t mind Brian Carter’s question. “We’re just over a hundred years later than they were, that’s all.”

Brian Carter and Emily Clark were sitting on the No. 131 bus heading to the tryout field. Emily Clark was holding today’s Times, which reported that the Football Association had approved Wimbledon Football Club’s request to move out of Wimbledon. Next to the photo of “Pete Winkelman” was another piece of news about Wimbledon.

“Fans strike back: AFC Wimbledon officially established today!”

The red double-decker bus sped along the British road, with red-roofed houses peeking through the green trees along the way, appearing especially bright and beautiful in the brilliant sunshine.

※※※

The tryout wasn’t held in Wimbledon town itself, but at a small pitch four miles west of Wimbledon, near Wimbledon School of Art. The name of the pitch was quite interesting—Kingsmeadow. The name sounded grand and regal, but looking at this simple field tucked away in a small alley, it was hard to imagine any connection to a king’s meadow.

“Looks like there aren’t as many people trying out as I thought…” Standing at the intersection of Kingston Rd and Jack Goodchild Way, Brian Carter shrugged as he watched the people arriving from all directions for the tryout. After witnessing the fans’ enthusiasm at Dons Bar, he had expected to see a huge, bustling crowd here. But what he saw was just a not-so-crowded alley entrance. Although small groups of people were walking in from time to time, it was far from packed.

“Wimbledon is a small place, and Wimbledon’s team is a small club. There aren’t many fans, so naturally there won’t be many people trying out.” Emily Clark said this very naturally, without the slightest embarrassment.

“Emily Clark!”

While the two of them were still standing at the alley entrance, they both heard someone calling from behind.

Hearing her name, Emily Clark turned around and looked. Across the street stood two boys, waving at her.

“Hi, Allan, Gavin!” Emily Clark waved back.

Brian Carter, turning around with her, squinted when he saw who the two were.

Those two were the very same British international student team players who had toyed with him by passing the ball back and forth in the match a few days ago. Apparently, they had trained in Wimbledon’s youth system. Brian Carter didn’t like being made fun of on the pitch, so naturally he didn’t have a good impression of them. He stayed silent, showing no reaction.

It seemed those two guys didn’t like him much either.

After seeing who was standing next to Emily Clark, the two boys’ smiles grew even brighter—brighter than today’s sunshine, so bright it was almost excessive. They even looked happier than when they saw Emily Clark, which was odd.

Brian Carter became more alert. He didn’t believe that after being mocked on the pitch, anyone would want to be friends off the field. There’s no such kind-hearted person in the world.

Sure enough, after crossing the street, the two British guys walked straight up to Brian Carter, flanking him on either side.

“Look who it is!” The tall, blond one leaned in, scrutinizing Brian Carter, his words dripping with unmistakable sarcasm.

“A Chinese guy!” shouted the slightly shorter, gray-haired one beside him, putting on an exaggeratedly surprised expression.

“Hahahaha!” With that, the two of them threw their heads back and laughed together.