During the second half-time break, Zhou Huo had no intention of taking care of his own players. He was so anxious that he wanted to dig a hole in the ground and get to the Holy Sword Lounge to see what their expressions were.
"We've got three match points. I'm really curious about what they can discuss now." Zhou Huo was really curious. "Why don't we ask a marketing genius like me to go over and discuss how to do PR after the game? They controlled the points in the group stage and were defeated in the quarterfinals. This PR problem is not something that anyone can solve. I have a set of unused PR drafts for losing games that I can give to them for free..."
After winning two games in a row, Old Joe looked much more relaxed and taunted, "Didn't your former employer NSN give you a bad name during the rehearsal yesterday, saying that you might not make it to the quarterfinals? Do you want to ask your former manager for a PR draft? Instead of NSN, give it to Holy Sword?"
"I'd rather give it to an outsider than a domestic slave." Zhou Huo shook his head and waved his hand, "NSN doesn't need this. They don't deserve to lose."
Nolan Shi smiled, took the two hot stickers handed to him by the staff and stuck them on the backs of his hands, then walked to the side, touched his coat, and took out a box of cigarettes.
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