Chapter 1075: Chapter 1069: Gongsun Qiang (4)
Leicester City’s players seed like they were on steroids, running wildly on the field without a trace of fatigue.
In contrast, Tottenham’s players appeared listless, particularly the two forwards, who seed as if they were still in a drunken stupor, lacking their usual vigor.
Boos echoed from the stands; as the ho team, Tottenham’s fans couldn’t bear it and mocked their own team.
The atmosphere on the scene kept changing, and by the sixty-fifth minute of the ga, the situation was already very unfavorable for Tottenham.
Gongsun Qiang, munching on fried chicken, let out a wild laugh: "Qin Hao, you said I’d lose, so tell , where do I lose?"
Qin Hao glanced at his watch, "Five more minutes."
"Five minutes?" Gongsun Qiang scoffed incredulously, sneering, "Stubborn as a mule."
He continued watching the match, happily eating fried chicken.
The match pressed on, and at the seventieth minute, a verbal spat erupted between a Leicester City defender and a Tottenham forward.
In a fit of rage, the defender punched the forward in the face.
As the forward fell covering his face, blood splattered across the green turf.
Ho fans began to roar, and the referee rushed over, solemnly brandishing a red card to the Leicester City defender.
A dramatic scene unfolded!
Gongsun Qiang, in front of the TV, was almost dumbfounded.
Why did this happen?
Red card?
This is supposed to be a professional match?
If you just play it out honestly, you basically win.
How could a red card appear?
As the ga continued, Leicester was one man down, and Tottenham began a fierce counterattack.
At this point, Gongsun Qiang couldn’t stay calm, repeatedly sneaking glances at Qin Hao from the corner of his eye.
The latter sat there, as composed as a mountain.
Gongsun Qiang couldn’t help but wonder: Could I really lose?
Impossible!
I trust the analysts!
By the eighty-minute mark, a Tottenham forward broke into the box, scoring with a header, turning the match into a 1-1 draw.
Tottenham fans began to scream in astonishnt.
Tottenham’s players road freely in celebration.
In front of the TV, Gongsun Qiang slamd the bucket of fried chicken onto the table: "What the hell!?"
His face betrayed confusion and anger.
Professional analysts can’t predict every single match.
But overall, the accuracy is as high as eighty-nine percent.
Is my luck really so bad?
To hit the eleven percent?
Unintentionally, he glanced at Qin Hao again, and the latter’s face began to show a bit of a smile.
Seeing this, Gongsun Qiang felt a surge of pressure, cold sweat breaking out continuously.
The comntator’s frantic shout on TV jolted him awake.
Gongsun Qiang snapped back to reality and looked to see Tottenham’s forward sprinting wildly, celebrating ceaselessly.
What’s going on?
Didn’t they just celebrate?
Why again?
Instinctively, he glanced at the scoreboard, his eyes almost bulging out.
1-2, Tottenham had unknowingly taken the lead!
"What’s going on!"
Gongsun Qiang stood up, face full of shock: "This is not logical!"
As if struck by a thought, he turned sharply, looking at Qin Hao incredulously.
Qin Hao t his gaze, wearing a calm smile, his eyes radiating growing confidence.
"Could it be! You predicted this?" Gongsun Qiang asked in disbelief.
Qin Hao shrugged, "I told you, you’d lose."
"How could this happen!"
Amidst Gongsun Qiang’s unwilling roar, the match finally ended.
The score was so unexpected that Gongsun Qiang calculated roughly; without considering other factors, this match alone cost him hundreds of millions.
For the wealthy Qian Family, this sum wasn’t a big number.
But for Gongsun Qiang, it was an indelible disgrace.
In all his years of trading, it was the first ti he’d faced such a massive loss.
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