Like Burns' bar, red was also the color scheme of the bar. But it was brighter, more like blood-red. The Victorian building stood tall on the open corner of the street, with the Forest team flag hanging at the door to let people know from afar which fans were gathered there. Standing outside the door, he could hear the talking and laughter coming from inside. The shadows of the people flickering against the orange light which penetrated through the windows and the door looked like flames.

"Robin Hood Pub." That was the name Bill had given Twain. He read the name on the neon signboard and sneered, "Do they bloody think they are outlaws?"

He stepped forward and flung the door open.

Bang! The slamming glass door made a sharp sound.

The lively pub immediately quieted down. The alcoholics turned their heads in surprise to look at the intruder.

As soon as Tang En entered, he glimpsed from the corner of his eyes a Forest flag hanging at the side of the door, and there was a line of words in gold: Honor is my life.

He gave a grimace as he used his strength to tear it down. This move provoked everyone in the pub. The men shouted at and rushed toward Twain. "What the hell are you doing!"

"Don't make a move, boys." A voice stopped them. "Let's welcome the Forest team manager, Tony Twain!" With an excited voice, Mark Hodge stepped out from behind the crowd. He opened his arms to make a welcome gesture.

The people around him were still stunned, but very soon they also recognized the person who was standing before them, so they shouted with their glasses raised one by one.

"Forest! Forest! Nottingham Forest!"

The atmosphere in the pub seemed to have reached a climax, but Tang En remained indifferent amidst the excited men. He noticed that most of them had injuries on their faces and did not clean the bloodstains or treat their bruises. He stood at the door, expressionless, coldly watching it all.

This group of drunk people chanted for about a minute, and Tang En remained still with the same look as when he first came in. He said nothing. Some people started to sense that something was wrong, so the chanting gradually weakened, and returned to calm in the end. It was a strange scene. A group of men and one man were looking at each other, but they did not understand why they were doing this.

Hodge did not understand either. He had been a little excited when Twain showed up at the pub. But looking at the other man now, he did not appear to come here to have a drink with him.

"Having a nice beer?" Tang En finally spoke. "Did you have a good fight?"

The experienced pub owner only had to hear these words, and he knew to ask the foreign student who was working in his pub, "Have the glasses been changed?"

The young worker nodded. "They have been changed, Boss."

Every match day, the pub would replace the thick and solid glasses with poor-quality, but largely functional glasses. The boss took a loss when the good glasses were broken. If these poor-quality glasses broke, they broke. And there was no danger of killing someone if they took a hit to the head with one. With those two benefits, switching out the glasses had become a pub tradition.

"Very good. When the fight starts, you'd better take care to protect yourself." The boss patted the lad on the shoulder and motioned for him to hide under the bar counter.

"Boss, what about you?"

"Don't worry about that. Just squat down!" The boss picked up a glass and held it in his hand, then pushed the young worker down.

Tang En had not finished speaking on the other side.

"Did you win or lose the battle with Millwall?"

Everyone looked at each other, wondering why Twain asked about this.

"I heard that you were utterly defeated, and quite pathetically, too."

Based on the tone of his words, it was already obvious that this was not a friendly visit. The men who had just shouted "Forest! Forest!" were nervous again.

Hodge stood opposite Twain and said with a frown, "Twain, you had said that you wouldn't interfere with what we do."

"Yes, I did say that! But I also told you not to involve anyone who has nothing to do with this." Tang En sharply interrupted Hodge's words, gritted his teeth, and said, "Now I regret that I did not call the police on you to arrest all you sons of b*tches! While my team was playing against the opponents on the field and fighting for victory, you guys were bloody fighting with other people outside. Don't you f*cking mention honor in front of me! You're not worthy!" He saw that someone was about to open his mouth to refute, so he directly took the other person's words.

"Break your opponents' nose bridges to make their faces bloody; break their arms and legs and let them howl in pain on the ground; knock over an innocent child, and then trample him while running away. Is that what you call honor? This is your f*cking honor?" Tang En's hands shook while he gripped the flag and his knuckles turned white.

"You think you're amazing? You think you're the heroes of this team? You guys..."

Tang En thought of the first time he met little Bernard that afternoon in the dazzling sunshine. He would never forget for the rest of his life his look of excitement when he had gotten Wood's autograph. He was George's first fan.

He felt ashamed and guilty that he had ever defended this group of people in front of him. He felt remorse and anger for not being able to stop their actions in time.

"...You b*stards!" He tore the red flag with the painted Forest team emblem and the "Honor is my name" in half. With a hiss, the people around him were outraged.

Under the influence of alcohol, those who drank too much, clamored to rush up and teach the ungrateful Twain a lesson. But Hodge reached out with his hands to stop them.

"You'd better give me an explanation, or else! I don't give a damn about who you are!" Hodge gritted his teeth. "This isn't Burns' turf!"

"Stop talking rubbish with him, Mark! Let's beat him up! That b*stard tore our flag!"

"I will send you straight to heaven! Just like you tore up our flag, I'll shred you to pieces!"

"How dare you insult our honor! When we cheered for the Forest team, you were still in your dad's nut sacks, you a**hole!"

"Son of a b*tch. You're a f*cking bastard!"

His men roared and shook their fists, as if they were beasts about to be let loose from the cage. They looked fierce and abhorrent.