"For the first three quarters, you’ve been making the right reads, making the right passes, playing like a by-the-book Quarterback—I’m not saying you aren’t good enough, but you’re capable of so much more than that," Coach Miller said, patting Li Wei’s knee. "From now on, no plays, no protection. If the pocket collapses, you run it yourself. Go get that damn ball into the end zone, the way only you can."
"How about we go empty set?" Li Wei asked with a smile as he put in his mouthguard.
"Empty set?"
"Empty set."
The fourth quarter began.
The Eastern Conference All-Stars were on offense, at their own 25-yard line.
Li Wei took the field. This ti, he lined up right behind the center.
He waved his hands, motioning for all the receivers to spread out wide. He even sent the running back out to the flank.
An empty set formation.
This was an extrely risky formation. It ant the Quarterback had no one beside him for protection; he would have to face the rush from the opposing defensive line all by himself.
"What’s he trying to do? Commit suicide?" Kurt Warner exclaid. "In a formation like this, if the West’s defensive ends break through, he won’t have anyone to help pick up the block!"
"Hike!"
The mont the ball was in his hands, two of the West’s defensive ends, both weighing over 280 pounds, tore through the offensive line with virtually no resistance. They closed in on Li Wei from the left and the right like a pair of runaway trucks.
In that instant, the pocket completely collapsed.
The Li Wei from the first three quarters would have thrown the ball quickly or tried to evade.
But this ti, with all 56,000 spectators watching, he tucked the football securely against his chest, lowered his center of gravity, and then—
He charged head-on, right at the two defensive stalwarts who looked two sizes bigger than him!
"My God! Is he going for a head-on collision? Those are two defensive ends!" Mike Tirico’s voice cracked.
"CRUNCH—!!!"
A sickening crunch of muscle and pads echoed from the field microphones, reaching every corner of the stadium.
Just as everyone expected Li Wei to be sent flying, the unthinkable happened.
Like an armor-piercing shell, Li Wei used the montum from his charge and his unbelievably powerful physique to bulldoze a path right through the two defensive ends as they closed in!
One of the defenders, his center of gravity completely thrown off, was sent stumbling backward several steps by Li Wei’s ferocious shoulder charge before falling flat on his butt on the turf.
’They have no idea what the Silver Body is capable of.’
"MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!" NFL legend Kurt swore live on air.
Elizabeth llon shot to her feet.
Anya sat bolt upright and let out a cheer.
Don Quixote scooped Lily right up and spun her around in the suite.
The Wen Si Scout and Coach Miller threw their arms around each other.
Travis started screaming and yelling, and was promptly caught by the warehouse manager.
Craig was being endlessly scolded by Jasmine for shouting too loudly.
As for the 56,000 fans in the Alamo Do Arena, they were stunned for a mont, and then the stadium erupted in a deafening, earth-shattering roar.
"Stop him! Sobody stop him!" the West’s coach roared frantically from the sidelines.
Two linebackers tried to converge on him, but by then, Li Wei had already hit his top speed.
His 4.29-second 40-yard dash ti was nowhere near his true limit. The burst of speed he unleashed at that mont was enough to leave everyone else in the dust.
Li Wei made a sudden cut, juking the first linebacker out of his cleats. Then, facing the cornerback who ca in for support, he didn’t bother with another fake-out.
He just stuck out his left hand and shoved the cornerback’s helt—a brutally humiliating stiff-arm.
Empowered by his 2.6 Strength stat, the cornerback was like a fawn swatted by a grizzly bear, planted directly onto the turf.
And Li Wei was gone.
At this mont, there were no tactics, no teamwork—only pure, suffocating individual heroism and violent artistry.
He sprinted 75 yards down the turf, a pack of West defenders trailing behind him, trying to catch up but only eating his dust.
The mont he crossed into the end zone, it felt as if the roof of the Alamo Do Arena was about to be blown off.
Mike Tirico was in the broadcast booth, pounding the table. "Kurt! Did you see that! Tell you saw that! That is Li Wei! That is why he’s the number one prospect in the country! He doesn’t need a pocket, because he *is* the ultimate weapon!"
Kurt Warner was completely speechless. He watched the replay of the figure who had smashed through the defensive line and thrown down the cornerback, his throat dry.
He opened his mouth, ready to offer more criticism, but when he saw Li Wei take out his mouthguard, look into the cara, and brush the dirt off his shoulder with a shrug, the words caught in his throat.
"That’s talent, Kurt. That’s the kind of top-tier talent that’s rare even in the NFL," Mike Tirico’s voice was hoarse with excitent. "28 to 24! The Eastern Conference All-Stars have retaken the lead! With seven minutes left to play, Li Wei just brought the suspense roaring back with an unbelievable 75-yard touchdown run!"
However, Trevor Carson clearly had no intention of giving up just like that.
As the nation’s top-ranked high school player, his pride wouldn’t allow him to simply beco a background character in the Li Wei show.
Over the next five minutes, Trevor showed incredible tenacity. He exploited the fatigue of the Eastern Conference’s defense, orchestrating a series of short passes to chew up yardage little by little. Finally, with 1:58 left on the clock, he faked a run and threw a play-action pass for a touchdown.
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