The clock continued its relentless ticking, marking the passage of seconds into minutes. Presently, on the football field within the stadium, ten individuals, all stadium officials, were present.
Their collective gaze remained fixed upon Qin Chen, sprawled on the ground, tears streaming down his face. His body exuded both a golden aura and dark energy.
"Should we assist him?" one proposed.
"I think leaving him be might be wiser. He appears more pained than sad. Perhaps heartbreak or defeat by that woman," another suggested.
"Hey, he seems to be in agony rather than sorrow. Let's lend a hand," this time, a middle-aged man with a black beard and mustache, a seasoned figure, spoke.
Their agreement echoed through nods.
"Alright, I concur. Let's take him to the hospital."
Three of them approached Qin Chen, offering their support to help him stand.
