Commercial Director Belada pushed the gold-rimmed glasses up on his nose, a glimmer of light flashing in the lenses.
"6 million British Pounds, what are you dreaming about, Nasri? We're not only going to terminate your contract, but also demand 10 million British Pounds for the club's reputation damage. Rest assured, we'll send the best legal team in Europe to deal with you. Do you think you have any chance of winning?"
Upon hearing this, Nasri wilted instantly, plopping down onto the floor.
How could he manage against the legal team of the Abu Dhabi Consortium, what a dream.
It seems like this situation is far worse than he imagined; he didn't expect this Belada to be so ruthless, even more savage than CEO Belgistan!
"There's some good news too, tell me." Nasri said weakly, looking up from the floor.
It was nighttime, and Manchester's nights were bustling with lights;
occasionally, helicopters patrolled in the sky, flying through heavy gray clouds, kicking up a whirlwind.
