3: The magician's first pot of gold

The referee's red card was held high, like a burning flame, instantly igniting Lin Feng's entire body!

"Bang!"

Lin Feng practically shot up from the worn-out sofa, his right hand swinging hard, creating a loud pop in the air!

It's done! This is it!

Zidane's bewildered, angry, and unwilling gaze, finally turning into one of desolation, his back as he brushed past the World Cup trophy, Materazzi's exaggerated performance of rolling in pain on the ground, the Italian players' agitated 圍攻 of the referee... all of it matched the scenes shown in the [Precognition Card] in his mind, down to the last detail!

He could almost hear his heart pounding like a drum, his blood surging and roaring through his veins!

Lin Feng was somewhat distracted during the subsequent penalty shootout.

Trezeguet's penalty hit the crossbar and bounced out, while Grosso scored, and the Italians celebrated wildly, a blue ocean engulfing the Berlin Olympiastadion.

France lost. Italy lifted the World Cup trophy again after 24 years.

Lin Feng let out a long sigh of relief. He slumped onto the sofa, a relieved smile on his face.

The [One-Time Perfect Precognition Card (Major Sports Event)] had worked perfectly!

His nine thousand five hundred pounds were about to turn into a massive sum capable of turning the tide!

Early the next morning, Lin Feng, despite his hangover-like fatigue, energetically re-entered the internet cafe on the street corner. He needed to quickly convert those virtual numbers into tangible pounds.

He logged into each of the betting company websites where he had placed bets and applied for his winnings according to the procedures.

Because the option "Zidane Red Carded in Final" was so obscure, a rare black swan event, the odds offered by the various companies were frighteningly high.

The lowest offered an astonishing eighty to one, while the highest went as far as one hundred and fifty to one!

Lin Feng's strategy of spreading his bets now showed a huge advantage.

His largest bet of six thousand pounds was placed with the company offering the highest odds.

After some calculations, deducting various handling fees, Lin Feng's principal of nine thousand five hundred pounds, combined with all betting options, ultimately brought him a gross income of over one million one hundred thousand pounds!

Even after estimating the taxes that might be payable on gambling winnings in the UK, his net profit in hand comfortably exceeded one million pounds!

Lin Feng silently calculated in his mind and finally set his target at one million five thousand pounds.

This amount was enough for him to pull Hartlepool United back from the brink of death, with plenty left over for subsequent operations.

Over the next few days, Lin Feng successively received payments from the various betting companies.

When the last sum of money arrived, the balance in his online payment account became a dazzlingly long string of numbers.

He transferred this huge sum in batches to a temporary bank account he had opened in the UK.

Barclays Bank branch, Hartlepool city center.

In the VIP reception room, Mr. David Miller, the branch manager, a typical British middle-aged gentleman, was looking at Lin Feng, who was sitting on the sofa opposite him, with an expression usually reserved for prehistoric monsters.

Just now, this young East Asian man, who appeared to be only in his early twenties, requested to transfer a total of one million five thousand pounds from his temporary account to a newly opened corporate account, the name on which was — Hartlepool United Football Club.

One million five thousand pounds! Cash!

Manager Miller had worked in banking for over twenty years, and for someone so young to accumulate such a huge sum in a short period under his own name, and then directly inject it into a low-level football club on the verge of bankruptcy, was absolutely an unheard-of event in his professional career.

"Mr. Lin… Mr. Lin," Manager Miller tried to keep his voice from trembling too much, adjusting the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose.

"Are you sure… you want to transfer all of this money to Hartlepool United Football Club's account? With all due respect, the club's current financial situation… is very bad."

Lin Feng picked up the teacup in front of him, took a small sip, and said calmly, "Yes, Mr. Miller, I am very sure. From today onwards, Hartlepool United's financial situation will no longer be bad."

He said it in such a calm tone that Manager Miller was momentarily at a loss for words.

The "Perfect Precognition Card" given by the system was indeed powerful! But it was a one-time use, otherwise, he would become rich just by betting on games.

On the afternoon the funds arrived, Lin Feng immediately called Old John Mcdonald, the accountant.

"Mr. McDonald, this is Lin Feng. Please prepare a detailed list of all the club's debts. Notify all creditors, including the city council, tax authorities, players, coaching staff, and suppliers, that we will settle all debts in full at 10 AM tomorrow in the club's meeting room."

On the other end of the phone, John McDonald's hand, holding the receiver, trembled violently, almost knocking the old-fashioned telephone off the table.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but it ultimately became a single, deeply shocked and disbelieving: "…Yes, boss!"

The next morning, Lin Feng, accompanied by John McDonald, began his "debt repayment journey" with bank cashier's checks and banker's drafts.

First stop, Hartlepool City Hall.

When Lin Feng placed a two hundred thousand pound banker's draft in front of the municipal official responsible for the club's stadium rental affairs, the official, known for his rigid seriousness, had an expression more surprised than if he had seen a ghost.

He repeatedly confirmed the authenticity of the check, then looked up at the calm Lin Feng and the excited, red-faced John McDonald beside him, feeling as if he were dreaming.

"Mr. Lin… this… this is truly…" The municipal official's voice was a bit dry.

"This is all the rent Hartlepool United owes the City Hall," Lin Feng smiled slightly. "From now on, Hartlepool United will not only pay rent on time but will also strive to bring more honor to this city. We hope to establish a better cooperative relationship with the City Hall."

Immediately after, three hundred seventy-eight thousand pounds in salaries, owed to players and coaching staff for three months, were fully deposited into their accounts.

When the players received the bank transfer SMS, the entire training ground instantly erupted, with many veteran players even shedding tears of excitement.

Those who had once blocked the club's exit, shouting slogans, now had faces full of surprise and disbelief.

Subsequently, one hundred thirty thousand pounds of various supplier debts were also paid off one by one.

The business owners, who had originally given up hope on these bad debts, expressed their most sincere gratitude to the young Chinese boss after receiving their payments.

In just one day, Hartlepool United Football Club's massive debt of seven hundred eight thousand pounds was completely cleared by Lin Feng!

The news quickly spread throughout the small town of Hartlepool.

"Did you hear? Hartlepool United's new Chinese boss paid off all the debts in one day!"

"Really? Seven hundred thousand pounds! Where did he get so much money?"

"It's a miracle! I thought the team was doomed!"

"Hartlepool Miracle Day!" Someone first shouted this name, and it quickly gained recognition from all the fans.

A club on the verge of disbandment miraculously resolved all its debt crises just a few days after the new owner took over. This was undoubtedly a shot in the arm for Hartlepool, a town long overshadowed by economic depression.

The Hartlepool Mail, the local newspaper with the largest circulation.

In the editorial office, a young female reporter named Sophie Green, with neat blonde short hair and black-framed glasses, looking both intellectual and vibrant, was excitedly explaining her views to her editor-in-chief.

"Editor-in-chief, this is definitely big news! A mysterious Chinese businessman parachuted into Hartlepool and solved the club's nearly million-pound debt within days!"

"There must be a deeper story behind this! Who exactly is he? Where did his money come from? Why would he acquire a League Two club on the verge of bankruptcy?" Sophie spoke very quickly. She had just turned twenty-three this year, had been at the newspaper for less than a year after graduating from university, and was eager for an opportunity to prove her abilities.

The editor-in-chief was somewhat swayed by her words and nodded: "Alright, Sophie, this topic is yours. Go dig into it and find out who this young Chinese boss really is."

Facing the flurry of speculation and questions from the outside world, Lin Feng's stance was remarkably consistent.

On the few occasions he had to face the media, he would smile and say: "I made some personal investments in the international financial market, and I was quite lucky, achieving some returns. I am optimistic about Hartlepool United's potential and believe this club can regain its glory."

"Precise investments in the international financial market," this seemingly profound explanation successfully draped Lin Feng in a mysterious cloak of "investment genius."

After all, for people in a small place like Hartlepool, the international financial market was already distant and complex, so the emergence of a few investment prodigies seemed quite reasonable.

In the club office, Old John Mcdonald looked at Lin Feng, who was reviewing player data, with a complex mix of emotions.

A few days ago, he thought this young man was either crazy or talking nonsense.

But now, with all the club's debts settled, players back in training, and the entire club revitalized, Old John's doubts had long vanished, replaced by intense curiosity and a hint of imperceptible reverence.

He realized that this young Chinese boss, even younger than his own son, was no ordinary person. His composure beyond his years and decisive methods made Old John feel a genuine sense of anticipation for Hartlepool United's future for the first time.

After clearing seven hundred eight thousand pounds of debt, Lin Feng still had three hundred forty-two thousand pounds in the club's account.

He carefully planned the use of these funds.

Firstly, he planned to withdraw two hundred thousand pounds as an operating reserve for the remainder of the current season, ensuring that daily expenses such as salary payments, pitch maintenance, and away travel would no longer be an issue.

Of the remaining one hundred forty-two thousand pounds, Lin Feng intended to use a portion to bring in a few truly promising players to strengthen the team's weak lineup.

Another portion would be used for preliminary improvements to the club's rather meager and shabby training ground.

He knew that in modern football, hardware facilities were equally important.

Just as Lin Feng was planning the club's future blueprint, there was a gentle knock on the office door.

"Come in."

The door opened, and in walked Sophie Green, a reporter from the Hartlepool Mail.

She was dressed in a smart business suit, holding a notebook and a voice recorder, with a professional smile on her face.

"Hello, Mr. Lin, I'm Sophie Green, a reporter from the Hartlepool Mail. It's an honor to have the opportunity to interview you. We have many questions we'd like to ask you about yourself and the future of Hartlepool United."