Wait, You Really Have Them? (Please Follow on Monday!)

Wait, You Really Have Them? (Please Follow on Monday!)

Nudes?

Erik ten Hag's nudes?

Tang Ye had a headache too.

He had discovered that his system swung between two extremes.

When it was useful, it was incredibly useful. When it was not, it was completely worthless.

Erik ten Hag's nudes?

What use was something like that? And wasn't Erik ten Hag Dutch? Why had his nudes come from a Brazilian chest? "Wait!"

Tang Ye thought of something and entered the system interface, checking the message from earlier again.

You have obtained Erik ten Hag's nudes ×1 (from Antony)

Hiss—

He took a sip of water to calm down.

Based on Tang Ye's deduction, this Antony was probably Brazilian.

Antony possessed Erik ten Hag's nudes, so the reward had been classified under the Brazilian chest.

Damn it. When he had learned that the reward was a Brazilian chest that afternoon, Tang Ye had thought that no matter what, he would get a skill that improved his feel for the ball.

Now, it seemed...

Forget it. Tang Ye could not bear to look at it.

After tidying up the desk he had messed up, Tang Ye opened his laptop and prepared to play a few rounds of Hearthstone before bed. Just then, someone knocked on his door.

Tang Ye remained very calm. He closed his laptop first, then went to answer the door.

Sure enough, it was Erik ten Hag knocking.

"Er... Mr. Erik."

Tang Ye stammered as he led Erik ten Hag into the room. As they passed the computer, Tang Ye secretly shut it down.

"Oh, it's fine. You can leave your computer on. I won't look through your stuff."

Erik ten Hag waved his hand.

Last time, he had opened something unpleasant on Tang Ye's computer. Having learned his lesson, he would never look through Tang Ye's computer again.

"It's fine. I was about to go to sleep anyway."

Tang Ye sat on the bed, leaving the chair by the computer desk for Erik ten Hag. "Mr. Erik, what did you need from me?"

"Ayoub came to see me. Did you know about that? He came to my office after training this afternoon."

Erik ten Hag spoke slowly. "Tang, you know Ayoub is one of the club's veteran players. I have to take his suggestions seriously."

"..."

Tang Ye said nothing.

He had taken Ayoub's position, and now Erik ten Hag had come to him because Ayoub had approached him.

Considering Erik ten Hag was a rather detestable person to begin with, Tang Ye had a bad feeling about this.

"So, Mr. Erik, do you need me to do something?"

"Oh, not exactly."

Erik ten Hag waved his hand, looking utterly unconcerned. "What I mean is, your position will be under threat. If you do not perform well enough, I will have to take you out of the starting lineup. So... well, you need to work harder."

Just as expected!

Tang Ye sighed silently.

It was pretty much what he had anticipated. Erik ten Hag had probably not come with good news.

That damn Dutchman wanted to use pressure from Ayoub to force him into extra training! "Hey, don't be upset!"

Seeing that something was off with Tang Ye's expression, Erik ten Hag quickly added, "Don't you think I've already been fair? You contribute more to the team than Ayoub, so I made you a starter. Some Utrecht fans who don't know any better have even started rumors that you have my nudes!"

"Haha, you have no idea how imaginative those players are."

As he spoke, Erik ten Hag pointed at Tang Ye's mouth. "Tang, do you have any gum left?"

Tang Ye pointed toward the drawer in the computer desk. He kept all his gum in there.

"Wait!"

Tang Ye suddenly remembered something and hurriedly spoke.

Unfortunately, it was already too late.

Erik ten Hag slowly raised his hand, his eyes fixed on the photograph he had taken from the computer desk drawer.

He craned his neck and stared at Tang Ye. "No, wait, you really have them?"

"No, no, no, no!"

Tang Ye was under immense pressure. He rushed over and snatched the photograph from Erik ten Hag's hand. "Hey, Erik, listen to me, okay? Listen to me. Don't panic!"

"Tom!"

Erik ten Hag stood up from the computer chair and spread his hands at Tang Ye. "You can't mess with this stuff! Is this Photoshop? Damn it, you shouldn't be doing this. This is slander against me. You didn't post it on Instagram, did you?"

"Of course not. No, listen to me, this is a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding! I shouldn't have this thing!"

Tang Ye held the photograph and walked into the bathroom right in front of Erik ten Hag, his hand hovering above the toilet.

"This is a misunderstanding. Yeah, a misunderstanding..."

Tang Ye put the photograph back into his pocket.

Erik ten Hag:?

"Tang, you won't spread rumors about me, right? You know, even though these things are fake, they could have a lot of bad effects on me."

Tang Ye did not answer Erik ten Hag's question, which made the Dutchman somewhat anxious.

You're my prized student. Why are you treating me like this!

"Tang... may I ask you a question?"

Tang Ye had both hands in his jacket pockets, looking a little awkward. "Mr. Erik, please."

"I've treated you pretty well, haven't I?"

The day of the match against Twente arrived.

"Ahem, brothers, how is it? Doesn't this new equipment sound much clearer?"

"Okay, today is Utrecht versus Twente in the eleventh round of the Eredivisie. Both teams are already waiting in the players' tunnel."

"Let's introduce the away team's starting lineup first. Wait, I don't recognize any of these players. I need to check Dongqiudi. Hold on, hold on."

"Okay, got it. Twente are using a 4-3-3 today, with Drommel in goal..."

"And now, our home team, Utrecht! F! C!"

"The starting player, Tang Ye! Tang Ye! Still Tang Ye!"

"Tang King is starting again, so we don't even need to look at the players in the other positions."

"Just from this starting lineup alone, Twente's momentum is down by at least thirty percent. I already have no idea how the away side can win."

No idea how the away side can win? Is this streamer really that arrogant?

You must be here for the first time upstairs. You haven't experienced Tang King's terror.

Grab a stool and sit down already. Little Chao has really made it—over sixty thousand people in the stream. Is this still a bootleg stream?

Little Chao? Call him Brother Chao!

How many are you planning to jinx today, Lucky Bro? Twente doesn't look easy to deal with.

Fuck, I was still in my first year of high school at sixteen, while Tang Ye is already starting in the Eredivisie. Holy shit.

Whenever Utrecht played, Wang Chao's stream saw a huge surge in viewers, bigger each time.

If the timing was friendlier for China, like today's match, which kicked off at 9:30 p.m. Beijing time, there would be even more viewers.

At Galgenwaard Stadium, after downing a can of Vardy Red Bull, the match officially began.

Twente were playing a 4-3-3, with Ziyech at the center as their core. He was Twente's undisputed key player, and Tang Ye's direct matchup.

Ziyech was valued at a full seven million euros.

Seven million euros sounded impressive, but it was really only one zero more than Tang Ye.

Because Tang Ye's current value was zero!

"I've got him!"

Tang Ye ran up from behind, preparing to press Ziyech.

Tang Ye had intended to force Ziyech to pass quickly, but the guy was ruthless too, carrying the ball straight forward instead.

He completely did not treat Tang Ye as a threat! "Damn, showing off like that?"

Tang Ye snuck up from behind and launched into a vicious sliding tackle!

"Ah, Tang Ye has made a mistake! His tackle didn't touch Ziyech, and he's fallen to the ground himself!"

"Ziyech! Sends it toward the byline!"

"Damn, that was a great pass, to number 11. Who is this number 11 for the away team? Agyepn..."

"Never mind, the away side's number 11 is pressing Utrecht's defense. Leeuwin!"

"Leeuwin clears it!"

"Beautiful!"

Clap, clap, clap! Applause sounded from the livestream.

Thanks to Leeuwin's outstretched leg to break up the attack, Utrecht escaped danger.

This was Twente's second corner of the match, with Mokotjo stepping up to take it.

Smack! The corner came in. At the near-post area, Agyepong suddenly darted into the box from the left.

Leeuwin, who had just made the clearance, committed a fatal mistake.

He had let Agyepong run right past him! "Number 11, rises for the header!"

"No!"