Park Jinhoon Knelt. Even a Grandmaster Was No Match

The hotel room was full of TV screens showing Qin Fen. Everyone was torn. Qin Fen's supposed neglect of his duties had instantly captured countless eyes, and even a seasoned old fox like Old Dong was no exception. As for Park Jinhoon, he was already miserable. Then he turned his head and found the middle-aged man giving him a strange look. When it rained, it poured.

In the man's eyes, Park Jinhoon saw not just sleep in the corners but contempt as well. This had gone badly wrong.

The middle-aged man was indeed looking down on him. Park had dug one hell of a pit. If the man had known things would turn out like this, he never would have rushed in like a fool. And now look what had happened.

He looked down at the messages he had received. There were several, including one from the Sports Bureau.

"Could you give me accurate information next time? You've put me in a very awkward position when my superiors ask questions!"

That was the polite version. What it meant was: Are you blind? What kind of garbage information did you give me? The person at the Sports Bureau was in a bind too. It would have been one thing if the Martial Arts Association had proved useless but the matter had at least been handled neatly. Instead, the association had pushed back, and Qin Fen was soaring. By tomorrow, the news might be running a story about officials suppressing a fine young man who served his country and its people.

Bullshit. He had not said it aloud, but his meaning was clear. To the middle-aged man, the message might as well have said: *Next time you want to drag me into your mess, stay the hell away. That's no way to