When Qin Fan, dressed in casual attire, high-fived the freshman from dorm 709 and stepped onto the court, the entire venue was stunned! Even the student council member who was hastily picked to referee was dumbstruck!
Holy shit! What the hell is going on?
He wasn't on the substitute list—but that was understandable. The freshmen team didn't have substitutes to begin with. They had barely cobbled together five players thanks to the threats and bribes of Brother Qiuzhe from the Northeast. But substitute issues aside, he was going to play in casual clothes? Was this a joke?
Then again, it made a twisted sort of sense. In everyone's eyes, this was a suicide mission. With this lineup, how could they possibly win? Besides, if the opposing team found out Qin Fan was the perfect-score champion, they would definitely go for blood, given the notorious dispositions of the Japanese, Koreans, Indians, and those arrogant Americans.
