I revived the Demonic Sect in North America

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……

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Jack brought his left guard Collins, safety Harris, and running back Miller.

These were his teammates who usually hung out with him and were full of complaints about Bruce stealing the spotlight last week.

Zhang Han extended the utmost hospitality as a host.

Expensive single malt whiskies and dozens of ice-cold beers were served continuously.

He also thoughtfully noticed that Jack glanced at a red-haired girl a few more times.

He immediately winked at Jack, implying that he had arranged everything for the girls.

After a few shots of strong liquor, Jack's face turned bright red, and the veins on his neck became faintly visible.

Fueled by alcohol and women, Jack opened up completely.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck Duke coach!"

He gulped down a large mouthful of whiskey, the pungent liquid burning his throat and extinguishing his last shred of restraint.

"That old bastard only has eyes for that damned Black King Kong Bruce!"

"Yeah, he can crash! He can withstand it! That's to be expected! That's just how big he is! And what about me?"

"I'm the captain! I'm the quarterback! I'm the team's brain! Every time we lose, they fucking dump all the blame on me! Is it my fault that my passes are intercepted? Huh? The forwards are like paper, the wide receivers are running around like headless flies, and it's all my fault?!"

Collins was also a little tipsy and mumbled along:

"Yeah, it's like none of us broke a sweat. Bruce gave it his all, but it was a team effort! All the credit can't be given to him!"

Harris took a sullen sip of beer and muttered:

"Right now, everyone in the school is chanting 'Cavaliers Bruce,' who remembers us guys who were fighting tooth and nail to defend him?"

While pouring them drinks with great enthusiasm, Zhang Han subtly added fuel to the fire, his tone full of sympathy:

"Who says otherwise? Jack, you're clearly the commander on the court, the leader of the team. I think it's just that Bruce loves to show off too much and doesn't respect you as captain at all, making the atmosphere in the team weird."

"Hey, I watched the game last week too. If you ask me, if he hadn't been so conspicuous, the tactics might have been executed more smoothly, the team would have been more united, and we would have won much earlier."

"Bang!"

Jack slammed his glass down on the wooden table, splashing the amber-colored liquor everywhere.

His eyes were somewhat cloudy and unfocused due to the alcohol, but the resentment within them was crystal clear. He gritted his teeth and cursed:

"He's just a muscle-bound idiot! A barbarian! Why! Why does he get all the benefits?!"

Seeing that the time was almost right, Zhang Han leaned forward and lowered his voice so much that it was almost touching Jack's ear.

He glanced around at his teammates, who were already slightly drunk and their emotions were stirred up.

Then he carefully took out a small paper package wrapped in silver foil from his jeans pocket.

He pinched it between two fingers and slowly pushed it onto the table in front of Jack.

The tin foil reflected a cold light under the dim lamplight.

"Hey Jack, my good brother!"

Zhang Han's voice possesses a seductive, decadent magnetism, yet it also carries a chilling undertone.

"Complaining and drinking alone won't help. It won't change anything."

Jack and the others were stunned.

"What do you mean?"

Zhang Han chuckled and said:

"What I mean is, since everyone's unhappy with Bruce, maybe we should do something to... cause him some trouble and calm things down. Friday's game against Lincoln College is crucial; the whole city is watching."

Jack squinted his eyes, which were red from the alcohol, and focused on the small foil packet. His Adam's apple bobbed.

"So... what is this thing?"

"Just a little bit of condiment that will give you diarrhea to the point of exhaustion."

A sinister and smug smile curled at the corner of Zhang Han's mouth.

"Don't worry, it's colorless and odorless. Even a ghost wouldn't notice if it were mixed into his energy drink or water. It won't kill him, it'll just make his digestive system a little more active, and he'll have to go to the toilet a few more times on the field."

"If he gets diarrhea a few more times, his performance declines, his legs become weak, and his concentration drops... then the coach, and everyone on and off the court, will be able to see clearly who is truly indispensable and can carry the team forward, right?"

"When the time comes, won't you be the hero who steps up in the time of crisis and turns the tide, Jack?"

The deafening music and laughter of the girls in the bar seemed to be instantly sucked away and pushed far away at that moment.

The flush and resentment on Jack's face, brought on by alcohol, faded at a visible speed.

He stared intently at the foil packet on the table, then suddenly looked up at Zhang Han, who was standing right in front of him.

His eyes became sharp and clear.

Collins, Harris, and Miller next to him seemed to have been doused with ice water, and their drunkenness instantly dissipated by more than half.

They exchanged shocked and uneasy glances.

Jack fell silent.

He reached out, his fingers stiffly picking up the foil packet and slowly turning it between his fingers.

The tin foil made an extremely slight, yet teeth-grinding, "rustling" sound.

Zhang Han thought Jack had already agreed, but was just hesitant and afraid.

He was secretly delighted and quickly coaxed:

"Hey Jack, this is a good thing, isn't it? I've been wanting to get back at Bruce too. If you're willing to help me vent my anger, I can even offer you some assistance."

"Afterwards, this amount was in cash."

As Zhang Han spoke, he made a hand gesture.

This is an enormous sum of money for any college student.

"That'll be enough for you to live a carefree life for months. And that redhead you fancy tonight, I promise I'll take care of everything for you later. You're happy, I'm happy, everyone's happy, how about it?"

Jack suddenly chuckled.

The laughter was short and dry, filled with undisguised contempt.

He flicked his wrist, as if throwing away some disgusting garbage.

He casually tossed the foil packet back onto the table in front of Zhang Han.

Then he actually stood up.

The movement was a bit too sudden, causing the chair legs to scrape against the ground and make a screeching sound.

He tilted his head at Collins and the others, who were still somewhat dazed, and said in an unquestionable tone:

"Let's go, this place is boring."

Zhang Han was completely unprepared for this turn of events.

They were stunned.

He quickly stood up as well, and said somewhat flusteredly:

"Jack? Wait! What do you mean by this? We can talk about the price if you're not satisfied! Or do you have any other requests? Don't go!"

At this moment, Jack's face no longer showed the depression, dejection, and drunkenness he had shown before.

There was only a cold, almost ferocious contempt.

He pointed to the expensive wine bottles on the table, most of which were still half full.

He then pointed to the red-haired girl who had been clinging to him.

"Listen, Zhang Han."

Jack's voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear:

"If it weren't for the fact that you bought so many drinks tonight, and that I even licked this girl's headlights..."

He took a step closer, exuding the imposing presence typical of rugby players, almost touching Zhang Han's face, his eyes fierce.

"For the bullshit you just spouted, I'll fucking smash your nose into your brain right now! I swear I will!"

Zhang Han's face turned deathly pale in an instant. He instinctively took half a step back, his voice trembling with shock and anger:

"What the hell do you mean? Weren't you the one who was cursing Bruce the most just now? Didn't you hate him too?!"

"I fucking hate that he steals the spotlight! I fucking hate that Duke is biased!"

Jack suddenly raised his voice, like an enraged lion.

This surprised the several rugby players who came with him.

"But he's my teammate! He's the brother who ran laps with us under the scorching sun until we threw up, crawled and rolled in the mud with us, got yelled at by the coach together, and went back to the locker room with his head down after losing a game!"

"You want me to drug my own brother now? During a game? During a crucial game?!"

He took another step forward, his massive shadow looming over Zhang Han, and spoke slowly and deliberately, his spittle almost hitting Zhang Han's face:

"I now think you're a million times more disgusting than that fucking Bruce! No, a hundred thousand times more disgusting!"