Chapter 241: Fight to the death at 240
Chapter 241: Fight to the death at 240
The Philadelphia Eagles’ Safety Jenkins was in full sprint—
Although faked out by Hill, since he was originally positioned in the backfield, Jenkins still had enough time and space to complete the encirclement.
In fact, Li Wei’s zigzagging advance was only a mere five yards with little actual vertical distance; but just as he seemed about to fall, he miraculously persisted time and time again.
And with that, Third Gear was engaged.
Meanwhile, his steps stubbornly sustained his lifeforce.
Damn.
Jenkins’ alarm went off, and he suddenly sensed the nightmare recurring.
The pace, completely accelerated.
Strength, speed, center of gravity—Jenkins now had the upper hand in every aspect. He wouldn’t leave any openings or opportunities, this time he had to end Li Wei cleanly.
Getting closer.
Even closer.
Jenkins wasn’t rushing. At this point, whether Li Wei advanced ten or fifteen yards hardly made a difference. What mattered was preventing Li Wei from reaching the end zone; Jenkins needed to be calm, steady, and wait for the right moment to strike.
A tackle?
No, a collision.
With a precise hit, Li Wei would be pushed out of bounds for sure.
Even closer.
Just as contact was imminent, Jenkins never expected that Li Wei would move towards him.
Jenkins: ?
— Straight Arm Block!
Li Wei’s right hand had already collided with Jenkins’ shoulder in advance.
Li Wei knew he couldn’t just wait passively to be pushed out of bounds, as that would be his only fate. His steps were erratic, his knees weak, and he couldn’t gain speed, so he had to initiate a confrontation—it was the only way out.
Strike first.
Li Wei didn’t wait for his opponent to approach, instead, he preemptively charged, within the area between the ten and the fifteen-yard line before the end zone.
However!
Firstly, Li Wei was also weakened and couldn’t directly overturn Jenkins.
Secondly, Jenkins was well-prepared, and even though Li Wei had the initiative, Jenkins didn’t lose his balance.
Thus, the situation became deadlocked, with both men firmly entangled together.
Jenkins tried to push Li Wei out of bounds.
They sang joyously, calling out loudly.
In the Old Oak Tavern, the same song lingered for a long time.
West revealed his smile again, busily serving drinks to the customers. Turning around, West saw the Tavern owner Anderson walking toward a corner with a beer in his hand.
There sat Chris Provos, the slick guy from before.
In a blink, he had been unemployed for a full year, and although he had been doing odd jobs sporadically, the pervasive rejection had worn him down completely, barely hanging on, and all the old timers in the tavern worried he might consider doing something drastic, yet they felt helpless to assist.
Even the tavern was facing serious operational difficulties.
Provos had already racked up a pile of bills at the tavern, which led Anderson to refuse to let him run a tab anymore.
Provos sat in the tavern like a ghost because he had nowhere else to go.
And now—
Anderson put the beer in front of Provos and patted the table.
Provos suddenly looked up, inadvertently revealing tears in his eyes, messily rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
West’s tongue also felt bitter, maybe... just maybe, they could still believe in hope, believe that there is light at the end of the endless darkness.
In Arrowhead Stadium, although Pederson and Jenkins kept protesting, the referee still maintained the original call—
Touchdown.
Unless Pederson challenged the referee’s decision, it was the final outcome.
The same cry echoed over Kansas City.
"Touch! Down!"
Blood boiled once again.
"10:20."
After struggles and tangles, the hosting Kansas City Chiefs managed to widen the score gap, creating a situation where two touchdowns were needed just to catch up; the entire game’s dynamics had dramatically shifted.
In the ESPN studio, Bart held his breath as he observed the situation, both frustrated and distressed—how had things come to this point?
But—
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He must not give up hope, he must not.
The fourth quarter was next, a ten-point gap was like taking something out of a bag; they should anticipate the Philadelphia Eagles’ offense because Pederson learned from Reed, and for him, offense was still his stronger suit; they should also believe in Wentz, the sophomore quarterback who surely had more to show.
Don’t forget, Wentz was last year’s Top Scholar, Top Scholar!
How could a Top Scholar lose to Li Wei, the Edgerunner?
Bart swallowed hard, staring at the broadcast screen, now finally feeling the thrill of hanging by a thread, his entire reputation hinged on this moment.
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