The trio finally arrived inside the oval stadium. It was a tall and crowded structure, its size seeming to grow larger with every new person who entered. The pitch had been replaced by a gigantic screen that usually displayed a bird's-eye view of what transpired below, but for now, it remained dark, showing nothing. In front of the screen stretched a wide patch of tiled ground where the participants would later walk through for the audience to see.
The boys moved through the crowd, twisting and turning as they searched for a perfect spot to sit.
"Excuse me."
"Excuse me."
They repeated softly as they passed through groups of people, their eyes locked on a place that wasn't too close nor too far from the screen.
They finally sat beside a fat man wearing a journalist's cape. In his hand was a notepad, though instead of writing what was happening around him, he scribbled betting numbers and predictions. His focus wasn't on reporting the event but on the outcome of the third game.