Chapter 875: 874 Flying Pig Soaring into the Sky
Ndamukong: Heh heh, poor rookie, now he finally has the chance to savor the taste of “Violent Su.” He doesn’t even realize what he’s missed out on.
In Ndamukong’s eyes, the New England Patriots’ dirty tactics against Li Wei were nothing but gentlemanly moves, completely harmless, gentle as a spring breeze, lightly coddling him—and yet Li Wei was whining at Gillette Stadium, all teary-eyed.
The young generation has seen nothing of the real world. Now let Violent Su teach him a soul-shaking lesson, and he’ll understand what football is all about.
But Ndamukong couldn’t make his move immediately, because Donald had already charged forward heedlessly. Ndamukong had to fend off two opponents on his own. Despite seeing Li Wei breaking through, there were still obstacles in the way.
In the blink of an eye, suddenly—
A fist hammered the stomach, a hand yanked the helmet’s chin strap, covert little moves dancing out of the referee’s view. All too familiar. With skilled precision, Ndamukong cleanly maneuvered past the offensive line player in front of him. Then, in one fluid motion, he used the player as a sandbag and tossed him toward another offensive lineman, shoving him for added measure. In mere moments, he had cleared his path.
Referee: Wait, is this a foul? It seems like…
With his view obstructed by Ndamukong, the referee couldn’t properly see it. Just as he hesitated to throw the penalty flag, Ndamukong had already moved into position.
He opened his arms, akin to a hawk catching chicks, intercepting the advancing route.
But this was just a smoke bomb. Ndamukong’s real plan was to use his body to lean forward and exert pressure, secretly using his helmet to collide with the opponent’s helmet—delivering a tremendous force to knock out the running back, leaving them defenseless.
From a different angle, this was indeed like a hawk catching chicks.
The root of the issue was that Ndamukong’s stepping motion was still slightly slower. He didn’t lock down the positioning completely, and watching Li Wei about to break through, Ndamukong needed a special tactic to achieve the defensive play.
He was all too familiar with this.
“Helmet collision equals foul”—did Ndamukong care?
Ndamukong fixed his eyes on Li Wei, a glint of savage light flashing. He couldn’t wait to tenderly crush this guy before him:
Rest assured, he would show no mercy, delivering the purest, unfiltered taste of violence.
Six-foot-three (193cm), 313 pounds (141kg)—an absolute beast of a figure. A shadow loomed over Li Wei, fully enveloping him under its oppressive weight as turbulent winds and pounding rain crashed down.
Danger! Danger! Danger!
The warning signs fully blared. Titanic was about to collide with the iceberg—an epic-scale disaster was imminent, unbearable to witness.
Who’s the Titanic, and who’s the iceberg?
As the collision was seconds away, in a fleeting instant, Li Wei sidestepped, turning his back to Ndamukong, bending his knees and lowering his center of gravity. Without hesitation, he dove straight into the impact forcefully.
Clearly, due to his massive frame, Ndamukong’s reaction time was considerably slower. He couldn’t keep up with Li Wei’s rhythm. Before Ndamukong could adjust his motion, the overwhelming collision had already crashed down like an avalanche with an explosive burst.
Ndamukong: “Jack, I’m flying!”
Quite literally, Ndamukong defied gravity. Like a flying pig, he was launched into the air, performing a full 360-degree somersault mid-air.
His heart lodged in his throat, his organs screamed as they rolled and tumbled.
Ndamukong felt an urge to vomit.
Li Wei wasn’t spared either. With a muffled grunt, his entire skeleton seemed ready to collapse under the continuous battering—first with Donald, now Ndamukong. Successive power clashes rippled through all two hundred and six bones in his body, each eager to abandon ship. His balance and center of gravity had long since been tossed into a black hole.
Staggering, wobbling.
But Li Wei didn’t give up—
Push off. Push off! Push off with all his might!
Clamping his jaw tightly shut, summoning the last fragments of reason and energy coursing through his body, he pushed off the ground over and over, forcing his movement forward.
Through his vision, he saw a sweeping ocean of blue waves surging in from all directions. His upper body was nearly parallel to the ground as he sprinted like “Flash.” He knew he couldn’t maintain this posture for long.
Push off, muster strength—ah! Aaaaaah!
A force erupted from deep within his dantian, propelling his entire body forward, like a torpedo launched at full speed.
The next second, the stadium exploded. Roars thundered down like tidal waves crashing ashore.
“Fourth-and-two conversion complete!”
“Li Wei! My God! Li Wei!”
“Once again, Li Wei delivers an unbelievable performance—powerfully breaking through both Aaron Donald and Ndamukong Suh in a perfect fourth-down defense from the Los Angeles Rams, carving out a path and forcing a breakthrough! Not only converting the fourth down but pushing forward an incredible five yards!”
“This is Li Wei’s response to the Los Angeles Rams’ heightened pace and intensity. This season’s regular MVP proves his worth with unparalleled, extraordinary resolve, showing he’s not afraid of the Super Bowl curse!”
“Powerful! Determined! Decisive!”
“Li Wei showcases unprecedented strength, slicing through head-on opposition. This sequence is likely something McVay never anticipated.”
“Wow! Such thrill! The real excitement is just beginning!”
Donald, uncharacteristically frustrated, pounded the grass in dissatisfaction with his recent play.
Getting up, Donald caught sight of Ndamukong still sitting on the ground, his head surrounded by imaginary circling birds. Donald had never seen Ndamukong in such a pitiful state.
Unable to help himself, Donald glanced toward Li Wei.
Li Wei didn’t celebrate. He simply stared boldly at Donald and Ndamukong—
Radiating killing intent.
Despite sweat streaming down his face, despite the flush of exertion coloring his cheeks, Li Wei resembled a blood-soaked war god, exuding an air of homicidal dominance, a commanding presence bursting forth fiercely.
Silently, Donald’s fighting spirit ignited too. This clash—this was what he lived for.
Li Wei wasn’t interested in celebrating. Converting a fourth down wasn’t enough for him; the offensive drive wasn’t over. He won’t stop moving forward.
The offense lines up again.
Li Wei high-fived his teammates one by one, finally reaching the exuberant Mahomes.
Tonight, Mahomes wasn’t nervous—he was far too excited, overflowing with adrenaline, unable to cool down. Exchanging a glance, Li Wei gestured for Mahomes to focus and find composure.
Mahomes chuckled twice.
Then, they restructured the strategy.
The air became even more charged with tension. The Los Angeles Rams Defense, eyes bloodshot—especially Ndamukong, whose murderous gaze seemed ready to execute Li Wei three thousand six hundred and fifty-five times.
Yet Mahomes focused even more intently.
This was what Smith had taught him—when the opponent visibly grows tense, it means they’ve successfully drawn attention; it heightens their awareness and aggression, but also creates openings in their strategy. If they seize this fleeting moment, they could rapidly flip the scenario in their favor.
In the past, Mahomes was too inexperienced to grasp this concept.
Now though, Mahomes understood. At halftime during the Super Bowl, Donald created such an opportunity to help the Los Angeles Rams break the deadlock. The current setting was utterly familiar, memories flooding his mind like a tidal wave.
So, was this the Kansas City Chiefs’ chance?