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Chapter 558: The Drunken Man’s Intentions
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... tic.
Nagao stood with a dark expression, looking at the now empty press conference venue.
Inwardly, he hated the fickle reporters.
These reporters were like mosquitoes drawn to the smell of blood; as soon as there was fresher, more appealing blood, they would immediately abandon whatever benefits they had in front of them.
In just a matter of minutes, the place had cleared out.
FIFA's officials also seemed somewhat embarrassed.
"Mr. Nagao, I sincer ...
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