Dominate the Super Bowl

The wind, fierce and overpowering, swept in, his vision remaining firmly locked on the rapidly descending football to the extent that he could not face forward. Still, his peripheral vision could capture the roaring wave of charging hordes, closing in from all sides.

Scorching, sharp, it glided across the skin like a blade, painfully stinging.

However, this scene further confirmed Li Wei's judgment:

Tactical kickoff.

Gostkowski's kickoff control had a shorter-than-expected parabolic trajectory; moreover, it spun rapidly due to the intense spin, causing the football to wobble erratically in its descent due to the acceleration of gravity.

This was a test. Gostkowski seized on Li Wei's lack of experience and the fact that it was his first official professional game, possibly making him too nervous or too excited. He intentionally disrupted Li Wei's rhythm with an irregular, fast-falling parabola.

A hypothesis—if Li Wei caught the football or touched it but couldn't control it and fumbled, it would mean that the possession was up for grabs. The New England Patriots' players could then fight for possession, complete the turnover, and even make a counterattack to score a touchdown in the end zone.

The Special Duty Group could also score.

It seemed that this was the first test Belichick had given Li Wei.

And Li Wei?

He had no time for nervousness or panic; his attention was fully concentrated.

Li Wei continuously adjusted his steps forward, constantly observing the scene ahead while intently watching the trajectory of the football.

Then.

A step up.

The football's descending parabola was steep, and its irregular spin further complicated matters, forcing Li Wei to stretch his upper body to catch the ball at a position eight to nine yards from the end zone's edge. Just before the football hit the ground, in a swift, scooping motion, he managed to pluck it from the air, gaining control with his fingertips.

Thrilling, exhilarating.

But there was no time to feel relieved; he stumbled forward, taking a few shaky steps. Then, he saw a deep blue wave mingled with a white furious wind, crashing massively into his eyes, merging into a solid force.

This, too, was an offensive and defensive standoff.

The Kansas City Chieftains' Special Duty Group was akin to an offensive group, the New England Patriots' Special Duty Group was like a defensive group, and now the two sides engaged in a positional battle.

Chaos! Crisis!

Li Wei paused his steps—

Directly ahead, four patches of blue recklessly broke through the interception of two patches of white, forming a crescent-shaped dam blocking the way ahead, tightly sealing off the path for a complete encirclement.

If facing such a disadvantage with the New England Patriots in a superior position indicated anything, it meant that the right side was likely where the Kansas City Chieftains had a numerical advantage.

Brake, start, change direction.

Seeing the four patches of blue poised to capture Li Wei, the big fish, Li Wei suddenly stopped and pivoted, controlling his body with a swift step, dashing past the sharp edge of this blue crescent.

Close call—barely missing.

Just as the patch of blue was about to touch Li Wei's white jersey shoulder, Li Wei accelerated, swiftly eluding this blue wave.

Yet, this was still not the end.

The patch of blue wave decisively threw itself forward in a dive to tackle him; but Li Wei was quicker, lifting his legs high in rapid succession.

A flurry of movement, a series of ground kicks.

Like a propeller stirring up waves in a collision, Li Wei broke free.

Thump!

A muffled sound of something hitting the ground echoed from behind, shooting up a green mist.

Tap, tap, tap.

Li Wei rushed forward along a thirty-degree diagonal line to the right.

Fifteen-yard line.

The Kansas City Chieftain's Special Duty Group players had already gathered, blocking the blue wave immediately, helmets and bodies colliding, releasing astonishing energy into the air, the turbulence growing more fierce.

Twenty-yard line.

Twenty-five-yard line.

Before he even had time to blink, Li Wei had already sprinted fifteen yards diagonally from his team's left wing across mid-field to the right wing.

Speed, astonishing.

The entire Gillette Stadium erupted in roars and growls, fists waving, fangs baring, fierce faces opening wide to cover the whole field.

"Crush him!"

"Destroy him!"

They had to stop Li Wei.

Originally, this was a trap set by the New England Patriots' kickoff strategy, but to their surprise, Li Wei turned the tables and completed the kickoff return.

Now, Li Wei had already secured a safe starting position for the kickoff for the Kansas City Chiefs, yet he didn't stop, nor did he plan to.

"Stop him!"

"Damn it, God!"

A blue figure, using the cover provided by his teammates, demolished the block to find a breakthrough space, and forcefully stepped up through the gap between two white players.

Lateral interception.

Closer, even closer.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

A smile climbed up the corners of the mouth, slightly ferocious, slightly bloody, slightly proud:

Come on, rookie, let me give you a good lesson, I won't go too hard, really!

But at that moment, in the twinkling of an eye, Li Wei incredibly started to accelerate, like a breeze, instantly overtaking.

Whoosh.

As he passed by the eyes, the blue figure, startled, reflexively lunged forward, but to his utter disbelief, he grasped at air, his smiling mouth stiffening into terror and astonishment:

Afterimage.

He had lunged at an afterimage.

Before he could react, another white figure crashed into him like a bullet train, and then that splash of blue was crushed on the beach.

And what about Li Wei?

Thirty-yard line, thirty-five-yard line.

"God!"

"Shake off the tackle."

"Forceful overtaking!"

"Shake off the second tackle."

"Li Wei is still advancing, moving faster and faster; he's not only keeping up his pace but also continuing to accelerate. The New England Patriots' Special Duty Group is completely disorganized, failing to complete the tackles they were so determined to make. Now, the Kansas City Chiefs have gained a numerical advantage on the field's right side, clearing a path for Li Wei."

"Forty-five-yard line!"

"Midfield!"

"Li Wei continues!"

"Now the crowd has converged, with Li Wei's steps nearing the sideline, God, what are we witnessing! The Edgerunner shines at Gillette Stadium!"

"Forty-yard line!"

Toes, leap, wild dance.

Li Wei charges along the sideline, aware of the roaring air wave pressing from the left. He is still accelerating, feeling the flame burning in his chest, releasing all his energy, trying to forcefully overtake and break through the encirclement.

The fans at Old Oak Tavern in Kansas City have gone mad, as if they are in Arrowhead Stadium, erupting with astonishing shouts.

"Thirty-five-yard line!"

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"Thirty-yard line!"

"Twenty-five-yard line!"

"Twenty-yard line!"

Uniform, overflowing with passion.

Unfortunately, Li Wei couldn't break through. He was caught up by the wave of people near the twenty-yard line. A blue shove and white all mixed together brutally swallowed Li Wei.

However, Li Wei was exceptionally calm, even unprecedentedly so.

His peripheral vision caught a flash of blue, high knee lifts, continuously high knee lifts, persistently pushing forward.

Thud.

The flash of blue just grabbed a handful of turf, missing its target.

Then another flash of blue lunged forward, still missing, but this time, his wrist struck Li Wei's ankle.

Got it!

Stumbling, staggering, Li Wei's rhythmic steps along the sideline were disrupted, his balance starting to sway violently.

Danger, danger!

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