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The crazy night had already become a thing of the past, but the fervor set off by Tony Twain was far from over. As a result of the live broadcast, the footage of Tony Twain dressed as a king was seen by everyone in the country. Whether they liked or not, they were shocked by his action.

Even an arrogant manager like Mourinho would not accept thousands of people bowing down to him in public so naturally. Donning the king's cloak and crown, all he lacked was a scepter... Looking at his expression, it was as if they were things he should enjoy.

England was a traditional country. Some people in football circles still could not abide by those who departed from established practices. However, this time, Tony Twain's antic was even more exaggerated.

He called himself the king?!Who does he think he is!

Some of the press bombarded such an arrogant display, and more people joined the ranks of the critics.

"Tony Twain might as well declare independence."

"With only two UEFA Champions League titles and he wants to ascend the throne? He's too immature."

"If a clown like him can be considered a king, then what should Ferguson, Paisley, Shankly, Busby be considered? God?"

"Nottingham Forest is collectively infected with 'Tony Twain's virus'. Granted he's crazy, but now the entire club and all the Nottingham Forest fans are crazy like him; it's incomprehensible."

"Look at his revolting face. Does he really think he's the king? It's ridiculous. He's only a clown in our eyes!"

"Dear God, who's going to save this addled-brain wretch?"

"There must be something wrong with the world."

※※※

"It's really lively." In the BBC's office building, John Motson held a bunch of newspapers and magazines as a meet-and-greet gift for Tony Twain. He pointed to the headlines that censured Twain with a smile on his face that clearly showed glee at his misfortune.

Twain grimaced. "A bunch of poor ignorant bastards..."

"You've been quiet, Tony. I don't think it suits your style very well." Motson tossed the newspapers aside.

BBC 5 was currently preparing to go to Switzerland and Austria to cover the UEFA European Championship, and the floor was hectic. Motson happened to have a little free time, so he made a joke at Twain's expense about the recent "King's Gate" that everyone had hotly hyped.  Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.novelhall.com for visiting.

"What can I say? It was an exaggerated way of expressing my feelings, but this bunch of idiots took it seriously."

"You just have to explain clearly, and it'll be fine."

"No way." Twain shook his head. "I'm not going to compromise with the idiotic media. They want to hear my sorry words, but I refuse. I want to make them anxious!"

Motson saw Twain's lively expression and threw his head back with a laugh.

After his laughter subsided, he wiped away his tears. "You're really a newsmaker. News follow you everywhere. No, you're the 'news!'"

"Can I take that as a compliment?" Twain blinked.

"You're really thick-skinned, Tony."

"I have to face the disparagement from the media all day long. I can't survive being thin-skinned." Twain was happy to hear John Motson's comment. He was indeed thick skinned.

Motson nodded. "But to be honest, I was a little surprised when I saw the king spectacle. I thought to myself, if I was pushed to the stage, dressed like that and had to face the barrage of comments, I would find it really tough to deal with."

"I didn't think so much. Everyone was happy. It's too dampening to think about it."

"Your character... is so complicated." Motson smiled as he shook his head.

Twain felt it was meaningless to talk to Motson about the topic that had been hyped up by the media, so he asked, "is there anything for me to do?"

"Here? No. We fly to Basel tomorrow to get ready to report on the opening ceremony in four days." Motson informed Twain.

Twain nodded. "In that case, I'll go back to the hotel first."

"Okay." It was only when Motson walked Twain to the elevator that he suddenly thought of a matter. "Oh, yes. There's one thing I want to tell you. It's rather interesting."

Twain gave him his full attention.

"Carl Spicer, a reporter for the Daily Telegraph."

Twain was familiar with the name. He appeared to be a veteran journalist whose name he often saw in the newspapers. But what did he have to do with anything?

"He decided to do a rigorous social investigation in the form of a questionnaire and street interviews. He will interview a lot of famous and unknown media people, commentators, footballers, coaches, and club chairmen. It's a large-scale plan. The subject of the investigation is — " Motson laughed, "'What are your thoughts on Tony Twain?' Ha ha!"

He could not contain his laughter.

Twain did not laugh. He just shrugged. "Spending taxpayers' money just to find out if I'm popular or not?"

"Spicer thinks it is an interesting social phenomenon — a successful football manager who has a bad reputation in the public media and does not receive recognition that commensurate with his accomplishments at all."

"He's lamenting the unfairness on my behalf?"

"No, he just wonders why it is so."

With a "ding," the elevator door opened in front of the two men.

"Curiosity killed the cat." Twain muttered as he walked into the elevator, while Motson waved to him. "Don't forget tomorrow's flight. You can go directly to the airport."

"I won't forget; that is if I'm not killed by all this curiosity tonight..."

"Hahahaha — "

※※※

When he returned to his hotel, he was held up by two media outlets at the entrance.

"You've been waiting here all afternoon because you heard I'm staying here?" Twain looked at the two men in front of him.

He came to London with little fanfare. There was no need to go around publicizing where he stayed, since he could be approached by the reporters, which was really annoying.

A man and a woman from two different media outlets had waited for an afternoon according to their introduction. They wanted to ask Tony Twain a few questions because they wanted to hear Twain's response to what the media had said.

The devil knows how things have been developing between you two the entire afternoon. The two people looked intimate. They were not from the same media company but acted very close which caused Twain's imagination to run wild.

"Yes, we have a lot of questions, Mr. Tony Twain." The male reporter could not wait to ask, but Twain stopped him with a gesture.

"I admire you for being so dedicated to your job, but my time is also my time, so I can't answer all your questions, Mr. Reporter." He stood in front of the hotel elevator and pressed the button, waiting for the elevator, which was currently on the 18th floor. "See that? I only have time before it gets to the first floor." He said with a smile as he pointed to the display above the elevator.

The man and the woman met gazes and found it a little difficult. They had managed to get hold of Twain after much difficulty. How could they not ask as many questions as possible to get more sound bites?

"Pick the important questions." Twain thought of a way for them. Some people in the lobby had already glanced over, and Twain did not want to stand there to viewed like a monkey.

The female reporter stepped forward and cleared her throat. "What do you think of Grant throwing the silver medal at the awards ceremony, Mr. Twain?"

"That's his freedom, which is none of my business. The medal was given to him, so he could do whatever he wanted. No one has the right to say anything to him." Twain stood on Grant's side.

"As to..." Twain's tone had been very unfriendly toward the reporters, so they had to weigh their words, "the 'King's Gate' incident..."

That was the media's term for the incident when Twain dressed as a king. Like his original "rape-gate" incident, Twain felt that the reporters had not grown in the past few years, and were still quite sub-standard when it came to naming things. He knew what the reporters wanted to ask, so he replied first. "I have nothing to say. It's my freedom to wear whatever I want to the celebration party. It's nobody's business. I don't need to hold a press conference to explain just because I wore something that few people would wear. Would you go around explaining it to other people just because you're wearing a 'Hello Kitty' underpants today?" Twain stared at the male reporter and asked. That man reflexively glanced down...

"Queen's lead singer, Freddie Mercury, did the same thing after their London concert. And I didn't see it causing a ruckus? And yet you kicked up a big fuss to ask me what happened. How do I know what's going on?" Twain became angry.

It's not easy being a public figure. Even getting dressed up invites criticism. Everyone should just f**k off!

"Ah!" The female reporter noticed the number above had jumped to level four. She gave a yelp and threw out another question, "Carl Spicer plans to do a survey on your popularity and intends to publish the study after its conclusion. He said that if it were to be published successfully, he would send you an autographed copy. What do you think?"

With a "ding" sound, the elevator door opened, and the passengers inside were surprised to see two reporters holding tape recorders and small notebooks. But when they saw who the interviewee was, they all understood.

There was no concern to them there. Close proximity with Tony Twain meant trouble, so it was better to stay away. One by one, they quickly walked away.

With one foot into the elevator, Twain turned to the two reporters with a straight face. "I feel this is quite meaningless."

With that, he dashed into the elevator and the door closed between him and the reporters.

In the empty elevator, Twain took a slight breath. He dare not completely relax. He knew that the elevator had a surveillance camera. Now he was known nationwide, he could not rule out that someone would sell the recording in the elevator to make money. Real celebrities did not have the slightest space of their own and were under the media's watch at all times. It was really tiring.

He leaned weakly against the wall, wanting to rest, but he caught himself only a second later and stood straight. He did not want anyone to see his feeble side, not even for a second.

Looking up at the camera on the ceiling of the elevator surrounded by icy steel panels, Twain felt like a cat in a sealed cage. The air felt thinner. Perhaps he would die of suffocation before he could die of old age.

That's ridiculous. The king of Nottingham Forest is a cat that was suffocated?! Twain grinned at the camera.

※※※

When Twain flew to Switzerland the next day with the BBC 5 crew, including Motson, Dunn had already been there for almost a week.

For the UEFA European Championship, Nottingham Forest sent out all the scouts, half of whom were responsible for tracking the performances of the Forest team's existing players in their national teams and ensuring their conditions to prepare for the new season. The other half were to observe non-Forest players who had potential to perform well. Everyone was under consideration.

The people in charge of all the work were Dunn and Kerslake. Dunn led the scouts who observed new players, while Kerslake led the unit that tracked the Forest players. The two men had a clear division of labor and would eventually put together all the information to hand it over to Tony Twain. It was up to him to decide who they should buy and who to continue to investigate.

After the UEFA European Championship, the scouts still could not take a break. They would be going to China to continue their tour of the Olympics to find younger and more promising players. Their focus was mainly on countries outside Europe.

Once all the players' profiles came out, they would be deposited in the world's player library produced by Sports Interactive for the Forest team, which could be easily transferred when needed. Twain's ambition was so great that he would slowly gather young talent from all over the world. In five, ten, fifteen, and twenty years later, Nottingham Forest would have the resources to establish itself in this cruel world: an excellent and loyal team under his personal command. The glory of Nottingham Forest would never be just a two-season meteor, nor a comet that only showed its brilliance once every few decades, but a star n — its eternal presence, forever glowing and radiating warmth, lasting five billion years.

For everyone at Nottingham Forest, being busy would be the only theme this summer. Everyone was occupied.

It would be the first time since he met Shania that Twain and Shania would not spent their holidays together. Shania was busy filming, studying, and doing runway shows. Twain was busy as a pundit for the BBC during the UEFA European Championship and taking the team on its Asian tour. It could already be the next year before they had a chance to catch their breath and miss each other.