They won the match, but all five team members collapsed. After the doctor’s diagnosis, it turned out that every one of them had been poisoned with a slow-acting toxin. As for the source, only heaven knew. Fortunately, the poisoning wasn’t severe; otherwise, not even the gods could have saved them. Seeing the others clamoring to go demand justice from the Bateng Society, the originally most furious Edward Clark instead calmed down, standing alone at the doorway to block their way.

“What are you all planning to do?” He looked at these hot-blooded young men and asked, enunciating each word.

“Those guys dared to use such despicable tricks to secretly harm us—of course we have to get revenge!” Charles Baker stood at the front, righteously, his words tinged with sarcasm. “Second Brother, you’re supposed to be our backbone. If you won’t stand up for your brothers, fine, but why are you stopping us?”

“Do you have any evidence that it was Bateng’s people who poisoned us? Or do you just assume it must be related to that Henry Parker? If you act on impulse and do something irreversible, it’ll be you ending up in the Kaifeng Prefecture jail, not those cheating bastards!” Edward Clark roared, slamming his fist into the doorframe, his eyes blazing with fire. “We know our brothers were sabotaged, but don’t forget—no one touched them during the match. What if they turn around and accuse us of having an inside traitor?”

This barrage of questions instantly doused the previously aggressive crowd with cold water. Perhaps it was due to Edward Clark’s usual authority, but although some still looked unconvinced, no one argued out loud anymore. A heavy, unspeakable atmosphere filled the room.

In truth, Edward Clark genuinely admired their unity, but if more trouble broke out over that heartless Benjamin Harris, it really wouldn’t be worth it. Today’s match made him realize a harsh truth: just as there are shadowy figures manipulating the soccer world in modern times, even in the Song Dynasty, some people would twist the game of cuju for profit.

“Hey now, why do all the victorious heroes look so glum? Don’t tell me you’re not happy after winning?”

A smooth voice sounded behind them at just the right moment, breaking the tense mood in the room. Edward Clark stepped aside from the door, coldly eyeing the beaming Benjamin Harris, fully aware that this man was here to win people over.

Sure enough, as soon as Benjamin Harris entered, he fussed over the sick, asking after their health as if he’d forgotten his harsh words at the sidelines, showing not a hint of embarrassment. After a round of flattery, he waved in two attendants from outside, who set down two trays of silver in front of everyone.

“I haven’t forgotten my promise. Copper coins are hard to carry, so I’ve exchanged them for silver. Thanks to your hard work today, our Longqing Society was able to defeat the enemy in one stroke. The original reward was thirty strings, but after watching the match, I’ve decided to reward you all even more. The five injured will each get four strings of cash, plus two more for recovery, and everyone else gets four strings each!”

At these words, the previously resentful youths instantly erupted in excitement. Though times weren’t as good as in the Taizu Emperor’s day, four strings of cash could support a family for two or three months, and the injured got two extra—naturally, everyone was pleased. Some even muttered, wishing they’d been the ones injured. Only Edward Clark, leaning silently against the wall, couldn’t help but show a trace of sorrow in his eyes. Six strings of cash—about six shi of white rice, which in modern terms is just over three hundred jin—was enough to buy the joy of a dozen people. How cheap is human labor and loyalty!

Benjamin Harris also noticed Edward Clark’s expression. After soothing the others, he found a chance to sidle up to Edward Clark and whispered, “You were the key to victory today, Erlang. Don’t worry, I keep my word—I’ll have the money sent to your home.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Boss Zhu.” Edward Clark spat out the words expressionlessly, forcing down the urge to punch the man in the face. In the end, unable to suppress his anger and grief, he added with a barb, “If there’s ever another match of such importance, please let us know in advance, Boss Zhu, so we can be prepared. If we come down with any more mysterious ailments, you might get so worked up on the sidelines again, and that’s really bad for your health!”

“Of course, of course!” Benjamin Harris acted as if he hadn’t heard the underlying meaning, and launched into a tirade against Henry Parker and the Bateng Society. “Henry Parker just can’t stand to lose. If he’s got the guts, let’s settle it on the field—what’s the point of cheating in secret? And that Bateng Society, I’ll drive them out of Bianjing for sure! For a man to stoop to such tricks, it’s a disgrace to the very name of cuju!”

Not until Benjamin Harris had left did Edward Clark pull Charles Baker aside to talk. After making up a story about his head injury affecting his memory, he began to question Charles Baker about the feud between Benjamin Harris and Henry Parker. It turned out that Charles Baker had been the one to arrange this match with Benjamin Harris, never suspecting that the man beside him was an impostor. He recounted the whole story in detail.