The storm brewed, slowly but surely.
The most absurd and laughable part was that the Foster incident and the Hunt incident came less than a month apart, each in turn dominating public attention.
Just moments ago, the media and online commentators were still condemning Washington for its shameless desperation in signing Foster, holding the disgust in their throats, unable to spit it out.
Now, TMZ dropped another bomb, implying in no uncertain terms that the Kansas City Chiefs and the league had done nothing in the face of the Hunt incident—instantly igniting public fury.
Bustling. Boiling over.
TMZ's report spread across social media like wildfire, rapidly and relentlessly pushing the matter far beyond control.
Dark clouds piled high above Kansas City, the air thick with unease.
This quiet little city had spent nearly half a century away from the public eye. The blue-collar workers here had been forgotten, ignored, unseen—living quietly in the corners no one cared to look at.
And then, overnight, they were thrust into the spotlight.
From Lance and Mahomes to the Super Bowl championship to offseason drama, Kansas City had become a name on everyone's lips—this time, however, dragged into a storm in a way far from glamorous, exposing the city to the other side of fame:
Cruel. Dark. Bloody. Cold.
No one cared about the people of Kansas City. Because of one man—Hunt—they were lumped in with brutality and complicity without a second thought.
The attacks crashed down like a tidal wave.
Before they could even react, the city was drowning under a deluge of curses and insults, wave after wave, suffocating them.
That pressure—unseen but real—slipped into every corner of the city. By Wednesday morning, offices and streets alike carried the atmosphere of doomsday. The joy of victory celebrations was gone.
Kansas City felt like an isolated island.
Bewilderment. Frustration. Anger. Regret.
Anxiety. Irritation. Helplessness. Disappointment.
A storm of emotions surged in their chests with nowhere to go. Reading the twisted, venomous comments online left them seething—yet they didn't know who to shout at or how to strike back. In the end, all they could do was stew in their own silence.
On the brink of explosion.
No one was exempt. No one.
Amid all this, the entire city turned its eyes toward its team—
"Please, Veach. Please… give us an answer."
This was the last hope.
Fortunately, the city didn't have to wait long this time.
Immediately, Chiefs owner Clark Hunt and team president Mark Donovan held a press conference themselves—the highest possible show of seriousness.
At the conference, Donovan stated:
After the incident, the team was indeed notified. They personally questioned Hunt, who flatly denied the woman's accusations, claiming she had staged the encounter, bumping and shoving him, and that he was the real victim.
With no further evidence at the time, the team chose to trust the Cleveland police and wait patiently for the investigation to run its legal course.
The team was furious at his deception and betrayal, taking the chance to reaffirm its zero-tolerance policy toward any form of violence by players.
And so, the Chiefs decided to immediately release Hunt—effective immediately.
The stance was crystal clear.
The Chiefs moved with maximum speed and authority, showing decisiveness before the situation could escalate further.
Kansas City collectively let out a long breath—
At last, the team had not let them down.
In the old oak tavern, a rare quiet fell… until someone spoke.
"Sigh… just a shame for a young man."
Provost snapped his head around. "Joel, what the hell are you talking about?"
The voice shot back without hesitation. "Am I wrong? Without Hunt's support, we're left with only Lance. God, Lance has already been carrying enough—how much more can we ask? Don't you want to defend the title? Don't you want to keep winning?"
Provost's eyes narrowed. "But we can't sell our souls for victory. He should never have raised a hand to a woman. Only cowards hurt those weaker than themselves. Our team doesn't need cowards."
Seeing tempers rising, Anderson at the bar stepped in to cut it off. "Enough! The decision's been made. The last thing we need right now is fighting among ourselves. We need to look forward."
Joel stiffened. "I'm just stating a fact—"
Anderson cut him off sharply. "Joel, shut up! Did you not hear me? If you're going to keep running your mouth, go outside, cool off, and come back when you're calm."
"We look forward! We stand with the team! That's all there is to it."
"The more times , the more the team needs us united!"
Chaos. Turmoil. Unease.
Even with the Chiefs' swift, decisive action, the damage was done. A shadow now hung over their season's future.
Worse than an injury—
Because this was something that could have been avoided.
Soon after, the NFL also held a press conference. Commissioner Goodell offered nothing new—
He simply stated that the league would now launch its own investigation.
Unlike the legal process, the NFL had its own investigative committee for such incidents. They would conduct their own inquiry and deliver a ruling:
It might be a suspension, a fine, or even a declaration of innocence.
But regardless, during the investigation, the player would be placed on the "exempt/commissioner's list," prohibited from playing until the league concluded its review.
In other words, until the results came in, the league would issue no public opinion and take no stance—everything would follow procedure.
Fierce winds. Driving rain.
In less than thirty minutes, the Chiefs and the league had both made their statements, planting their feet amid the chaos and buying some temporary stability in public opinion.
Yet the noise online still refused to die down.
Discussions about the event expanded into deeper debates—
About player conduct, professional ethics, and social responsibility. People overwhelmingly agreed that athletes, under the spotlight, earning millions, and idolized by countless young fans, had to set an example and accept stricter standards.
They also called for the NFL and other leagues to strengthen behavioral guidelines, emphasizing the importance of education and prevention—because prevention was the only way to avoid more tragedies, rather than just cleaning up after them.
The reflection and debate raged on, showing no sign of ending. This was only a spark—the social sediment long buried was now stirred up, and it could easily grow into a full-scale societal issue.
And yet, amid all the noise, one person seemed forgotten—
For 20 or 10 advance chapters: .com/michaeltranslates