Dominate the Super Bowl-Chapter 1107 - 1106 Murderous aura

Yellow-green is completely surrounding the red.

This year, to commemorate the League’s centennial, teams have launched retro jerseys, and tonight’s Sunday night game sees both teams wearing centennial edition jerseys to reenact the first Super Bowl scene—

The Green Bay Packers are wearing deep green and gold retro jerseys, while the Kansas City Chiefs maintain their century-old classic red jerseys.

At this moment, the yellow-green is like a tide, surrounding from all directions.

However, that streak of red is so bright and dazzling, like a dawn supporting the sky and gathering the attention of thousands, bravely dispersing the raging waves in front.

That streak of red, wearing jersey number 23, faces the storm with head held high.

Five yards. Ten yards.

The first attack is already in hand.

Fifteen yards.

The footsteps are near the midfield line, yet already trapped in a circle.

Wolves ahead, tigers behind, fierce wind to the left, torrential rain to the right.

An ambush on all sides.

In this scene, Li Wei sees it, and the smile at the corner of his mouth curves upwards.

Anyway, the first attack is already in hand, and since it’s the first half with plenty of game time, he can fully enjoy and showcase, advancing even one more yard is a gain.

More importantly, Li Wei plans to complete a frontal breakthrough in terms of momentum.

In the back-and-forth battle, it’s now a contest of momentum.

Behind, a wave of air is rolling and relentless, but their threat is limited, Li Wei’s breakthrough is ahead.

Sanechi and Amos.

A quick glance to assess position and layout, this is what Sanders is most adept at. Through offseason training and regular season honing, Li Wei is getting better and better, the vision becoming clearer.

Li Wei ignores Amos who is quickly approaching, and charges directly at Sanechi.

Sanechi is delighted inside, this time no longer complacent and making a beginner’s mistake, bending knees, lowering the center of gravity, and actively stepping forward to block the position.

Sanechi: This time, he won’t miss.

Closer. Even closer.

Just as they are about to encounter, Sanechi sees Li Wei turn around first, a clockwise spin, narrowly avoiding the matchup at a critical moment.

This is Li Wei’s signature skill.

Sanechi’s heart tightens: Darn it.

He immediately realizes he has been foolish again, once more toyed with by Li Wei.

Sanechi lowers the center of gravity, preparing for a tackle and charge, but prematurely exposes his intent, so Li Wei chooses to dodge, bypassing with minimal effort, making Sanechi look like a fool.

A nameless fire erupts, exploding instantly.

Leaning forward, pouncing.

At this moment, Sanechi disregards any rough collision or grabbing penalty, now ignoring everything, relentlessly entangling, grabbing Li Wei’s jersey with both hands and yanking down fiercely—

Ah! Ah ah ah!

Sanechi’s eyes turn red, murderous aura surging.

"Yellow Flag!"

"Grabbing penalty!"

The referee doesn’t miss the foul happening in front and throws the Yellow Flag immediately.

However, this does not stop Sanechi, the thought of defeating and knocking down Li Wei is burning wildly in his mind, at this moment going berserk.

Dragging, squeezing, colliding.

Sanechi clings to Li Wei like an octopus, even though Li Wei’s steps are light, agile and fast, almost breaking free from Sanechi’s entanglement, still at the last moment caught by Sanechi’s rogue tactics.

So close.

If Sanechi was just a little bit slower, Li Wei would have escaped.

What a pity.

Li Wei’s steps got caught in the storm, stumbling and staggering.

Li Wei could go down and end this play, after all, no loss; but at this moment, Sanechi’s unreasonable approach sparked Li Wei’s fury, gripping his teeth, refusing to retreat.

At this moment, it’s all about competing in a single breath.

Push off the ground, exert strength.

Li Wei continues to stabilize his center with his footing, engaging in a tug of war with Sanechi.

This slight opening allows Amos to catch up, Hill tries to counter and block the position unsuccessfully, persistently trailing behind, but Amos’s forward momentum is strong, reaching first.

Spread wings, a swoop.

Amos collides head-on with Li Wei, wrapping Li Wei’s shoulders and chest, attempting to help Sanechi take down Li Wei.

Unexpectedly, Li Wei’s core strength is formidable, a reclining motion trying to evade Amos’s grasp.

Amos, startled, flails wildly, like a fish falling onto the shore, in chaos, Amos smacks onto the helmet, instinctively holding on.

In that flash, Amos and Li Wei’s gaze meets in midair.

A murderous aura overflows.

Amos grits his teeth, exerts force.

Li Wei holds his breath, exerts force.

Like a tug of war.

Poof!

Cold air pours down, Amos is dumbfounded looking at the helmet in his hand, missing, uncontrollably flying backward, staring at Li Wei, that sweat-drenched face slowly receding in his view, determination in his eyes bursting out with surging force, slamming fiercely into his chest.

"Yellow Flag!"

"Grabbing the helmet!"

"However! Wait, wait!"

"Li Wei hasn’t gone down! This... God, Li Wei still hasn’t gone down!"

Buzz.

The eardrums, a roar.

Yet, Li Wei doesn’t care, holding his breath fiercely, shakes off Amos, takes a step back, shakes off Sanechi’s persistent tugging.

Rip.

The jersey, torn.

The ties binding Li Wei and Sanechi break, and both fall backward.

Sanechi stumbles, staggers, and finally the whole person falls forward.

While Li Wei, in the stumble, almost falls, sits back, but uses his left hand to support the ground, core strength in the waist rotating, completes a floor move like breakdancing, incredulously stands back up.

Not suavely either.

In fact, it’s very awkward.

Feet slip, like a puppet wearing skates for the first time.

Both hands and feet in use, amidst the chaos, barely find balance, staggering forward.

However, it’s still not over.

Linebacker Smith chases up, breathing rapidly, steps chaotic, face red, shaky, catching up with Li Wei.

Seeing the tackle about to complete, but both are shaky, the final arm-length distance remarkably remains.

Smith: Not good.

He can see Li Wei’s eyes, without the helmet’s protection and cover, particularly vivid, the murderous intent in those pupils never wavering.

No time to hesitate.

Step, push off the ground.

Smith throws his whole body out, like a torpedo.

Li Wei tries to retreat to create distance, but regrettably, the steps don’t complete adjustment, a tackle at the waist, the two collide.

Stumbling, spinning.

Smith crashes against Li Wei, going out together.

Li Wei is swept into a storm of power collisions, feet briefly off the ground, drifting with the wind, muscles tensed to the extreme, holding his breath.

Until the storm passes.

Gravity pulls the body down to the ground again.

Yet Li Wei, hands and feet, unbelievably shakes off Smith, staggering continues to advance, this play astonishingly still not over!

"Oh, God!"

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