It was Friday morning. The Barnsley training complex was usually a place of high-tech sports science and carefully calibrated nutrition.
Today, it felt like a prison yard where the warden had just been replaced by a grizzly bear.
Bastion King sat in the canteen. He was wearing a tracksuit that looked three sizes too small for his massive frame, and he was eating a bowl of raw eggs. Just eggs. No toast. No salt. Just six raw eggs cracked into a bowl.
The entire squad was huddled at the other end of the room, terrified.
"Is he... drinking them?" Jax whispered, zooming in with his phone camera. "That is disgusting. No vibes. Negative vibes."
"It is protein," Diego Nunez grunted approvingly. "I try this tomorrow. Maybe with shell. For texture."
"Please don't eat the shell, Diego," Arthur Milton squeaked, hiding behind a potted plant. "The insurance premium is already high enough."
