Dominate the Super Bowl

Heh.

Time momentarily congealed here.

Harrison took flight, lunging at nothing.

Butler made an emergency stop, blocked by Harrison, and could only watch helplessly as Li Wei slipped through his fingertips. He tried to keep up, but with Harrison's body sprawling in midair, a slip of the foot sent him tumbling out.

Above and below, two streaks of blue crossed, both losing their balance.

The cheers of celebration were abruptly silenced in the throat, even cries of alarm and astonishment vanished altogether. The entire Gillette Stadium watched this scene, dumbstruck, hearts ceased beating, completely paralyzed, as their brains were already engulfed by a tsunami of shock.

And Li Wei?

His steps were light and agile, having just crossed the thirty-five-yard line.

Even after four changes of direction, he still maintained his balance. Despite the intense energy consumption and his lungs starting to burn, his forward strides didn't stop. Attention undiminished, concentrated even more in his burning state, he rapidly scanned the field; he had no intentions of stopping.

Huff, huff.

To his right was a tumultuous wave; the players who just clashed on the strong side rushed up, white and blue entangled, clawing their way forward.

A figure, charging at the forefront—

The Safety, McCourty.

He agilely and lightly shook off Chieftain's Wide Receiver Hill's block and cut across unstoppably, precisely judging the space and route to block Li Wei's path ahead.

Step, step, step step step.

Li Wei's footsteps didn't stop, still pressing on, yet the oxygen depletion was severe. Amidst the chaotic surge and inevitably limited vision, he couldn't see the other Safety from the Chung Family, but he also had no time to worry about these things, making a split-second decision.

No dodging, just a straight charge.

In the most straightforward and efficient manner, he sprinted at full speed along the straight path.

Push off the ground, exert force.

Push off the ground! Exert force!

Muscles were burning, blood was boiling, and power was exploding.

Longitudinal and lateral high-speed trains collided at this crossroad.

However, Li Wei didn't dodge.

Not only did he not dodge, this time Li Wei even took the initiative—

He had already silently switched the football to his left hand, his right arm outstretched.

Stiff-arm!

A brace, a collision.

Li Wei had already preemptively struck McCourty.

Bang.

McCourty was startled, but he was also ready. Amidst the impact, his footsteps were chaotic but he didn't lose his balance, gritting his teeth and keeping up with Li Wei.

Ah! Ah ah ah!

Power erupted. McCourty tried to tackle Li Wei, or at least disrupt his rhythm if a direct tackle was impossible. Both men were in a flaming state; the powerful confrontation exploded again, leaving no breathing space.

Li Wei took the lead once more—

With outstretched arm, he forcefully exerted power, his entire body weight slamming onto his arm and harshly striking McCourty's right shoulder, concentrating and releasing in an instant.

"Roar."

McCourty felt a tightness in his chest, and in that instant, he experienced an unbelievably forceful power that ruthlessly overthrew his balance, as if a tank had just rolled over his shoulder.

Powerless to retaliate.

Humph.

McCourty didn't even have time to let out a groan as his world crumbled apart, spinning around, his whole body flipping backward.

"Oh, God, stiff-arm!"

"Li Wei knocks over McCourty! Jesus Christ!"

In the commentary booth, Michaels couldn't help but exclaim in amazement, but his voice was quickly cut off as he stared, agape, at the scene before him.

Turning around, Michaels saw Collinsworth with eyes wider than they had ever been: stunned.

The Thirty-Yard Line, already left behind—

Who could have imagined that a slim chance of success on Third Gear, sixteen yards to go, would be within reach, and even an opportunity to enter the Red Zone is not far away.

But then, the Chung Family appeared.

That blue figure wearing the number twenty-three jersey emerged.

Calm in face, fiery in gaze, like a Hunter firmly targeting Li Wei, he clenched his teeth and charged over, unstoppable as a bamboo breaking through the ground.

The Chung Family was racing against time.

He knew Li Wei was unstoppable and also that Li Wei was on the verge of exhaustion:

After shaking off Butler and Harrison with four continuous changes in direction and using his strong arm to forcefully flip McCourty, let's not forget he also had to use his speed to throw off Flyers' hold earlier, everything was precariously hanging by a thread.

He needed to be calm, and he needed to be decisive.

Step forward, sprint, lateral collision.

Bang.

The Chung Family didn't opt for a tackle, but instead used his shoulder as a mallet, crashing into Li Wei's shoulder laterally, unreasonably throwing off Li Wei's center of gravity.

Li Wei did not anticipate this move and stumbled outwards, tripping over his steps. Speed, center of gravity, balance, all were swept into a storm, like the last dead leaf of late autumn clinging stubbornly to its branch refusing to fall, tenaciously hanging on the tree against the winter's sweeping force.

Oh, gritting his teeth.

Oh oh oh, the Dantian burns.

Adjusting while exerting force, Li Wei unbelievably adjusted his direction amidst the chaos and jolting, continuing forward while drawing near to the sideline.

The Twenty-Five-Yard Line, within reach—

Leaping over it.

And then, securing the first down.
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Unbelievable, inconceivable, Li Wei actually overcame five obstacles and cut down six generals, miraculously completing the Third Gear sixteen-yard conversion, and securing the first down once again.

All viewers inside and outside the TV broadcast screen were stupefied, their hearts stuck in their throats, eyes wide with astonishment watching the two number twenty-threes.

Blue, keeping pace and moving side by side, using his body to squeeze and collide, disrupting the opponent's balance, forcibly slowing down the speed.

White, persistently advancing despite the pressure, slowly moving towards the sideline amidst the squeezing, now on the verge of exhaustion and hardly able to mount an effective resistance, all the remaining strength focusing on the footwork and pushing forward amidst chaos and jolting.

One lateral collision, one vertical advancement.

Before you know it—

The Twenty-Yard Line.

The Fifteen-Yard Line.

The Red Zone is now within reach, and the footfalls of the two players are also nearing the sideline, with the steps of white seeming unsteady and unable to bear the weight any longer.

"Chung! Chung! Chung!"

The entire Gillette Stadium, from top to bottom, was chanting the Chung Family's surname, including the players of the New England Patriots on the sideline who all rose and chanted as well.

Brady included.

By now Brady had also stood up; they hadn't anticipated Li Wei escaping Flyers' tackle, hadn't expected Li Wei to outmaneuver Butler and Harrison, and had certainly not foreseen Li Wei flipping McCourty, but now they had no way back, as Li Wei was still pushing forward.

The Chung Family, was the hope of the entire village.

"Rookie!"

Mahomes roared uncontrollably, tearing open a rift in the tumultuous waves for the Kansas City Chiefs on the road, retaining a glimmer of hope.

The entire Old Oak Tavern had gone mad, uniformly and uncontrollably shouting the same name as if they were at Gillette Stadium.

"Rookie!"

The Ten-Yard Line.

The Chung Family was very calm but also very tough, unable to exert force amid the stumbling collisions, but he never gave up. Amid the jolting shock waves, he extended his hands and grabbed Li Wei's helmet—

An instinctive reaction.

The Chung Family knew this was a violation, a yellow flag costing fifteen yards, but he couldn't care less at this point; he had to stop Li Wei, grabbing whatever he could in his panic.

The next second, the Chung Family was ready to exert force and bring down Li Wei.

Oh, oh oh, the power, unleashed without any reservation.