Don't Mess with the Girl with Candy novel Chapter 652

“Are they going to forfeit?”

“Neverfall Navigators haven't been in good form for the last two years. They're probably just resting on their laurels instead of training seriously.”

“Now that they’re up against a tough opponent, they have the perfect excuse to ‘withdraw due to injury.’ That way, they might even salvage some dignity.”

These whispers from the crowd reached the ears of Miranda, who was hiding in a corner.

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Miranda, who had been snacking, shot up to her feet and retorted angrily, “Neverfall Navigators will never give up. Never!”

“Oh my god.” The girl who had been speaking nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Sorry about that,” Hayden said with a smile, quickly pulling his wife back down. “She can be a bit impulsive. My apologies.”

The girl eyed Miranda, who was bundled up like a mummy, with curiosity.

“However,” Hayden continued after his apology, “I don’t know whose fan you are, but you sound like you’re from our country. No matter how rough this match gets for Neverfall Navigators, they are enduring their injuries to fight for our nation’s honor. I’m not asking you to support them, but at least don’t make snide remarks. After hearing what you just said, I have good reason to suspect you’re a traitor to your own team.”

“I’m not,” the girl replied, her face flushing red as she stammered, stunned by Hayden’s lecture.

“Yes, you are!” Miranda jumped up again, fuming. “I—mmph!”

Before she could say more, Hayden covered her mouth, whispering, “Honey, calm down. If you don’t, the whole world will know you snuck into the arena.”

Miranda instantly cooled down. If it weren’t for the risk of exposing her identity and causing trouble for the Schwartz family, she would have argued the point with that girl until she was blue in the face.

...

Meanwhile, Neverfall Navigators had called for a ten-minute timeout, and no one knew what they were discussing.

“I’m just going to the restroom,” Juniper said, setting down her cup and heading backstage. The person in charge was standing guard at the door, but he didn't dare to stop her.

A few steps later, Juniper saw the team's traveling physician examining the player from position 3.

“His hand injury was already severe during the last match,” the doctor said, his brow furrowed with concern. “The pain-blocking injection only helped temporarily. He can’t put any more strain on it.”

“There are only two rounds left. I can handle it,” the player insisted, his face pale with pain but his tone firm. “Just give me another injection.”

Pain-blocking injections could suppress the pain for a short time, but repeated use would be devastating for his future treatment. He had already had so many; another one would mean that by the time the match was over, his hand would be completely ruined.

“What about the substitute players?” the team captain asked in a hoarse voice, his gaze fixed on the player’s swollen, bruised hand.

“No progress,” the manager replied, shaking his head. “The Batonian authorities are still making trouble. Even if they were released now, they wouldn’t make it in time.”

The timeout was only ten minutes long.

“We only have two options now,” the manager said with a sigh of resignation. “Either we forfeit the match, or we play four against five.”

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