I revived the Demonic Sect in North America

In the stands, the Cavaliers fans had gone wild.

"Knight Bruce! Knight Bruce! Knight Bruce!"

Rhythmic shouts began to rise.

"See that? That's our defense!"

"It's too hard! It's fucking too hard!"

"Even harder than mine!"

"I got hard too!"

"I swear I've never seen such an awesome high school student!"

The third attack began quickly.

Marcus decided to teach this annoying number 99 a lesson.

A sly glint flashed in his eyes as he shouted loudly to his teammates:

Plan B!

"Ready, set, kick off!"

After the kickoff, Bruce led his defense straight toward the Pastors' quarterback Marcus.

Marcus, feigning fear, quickly retreated.

At the same time, his eyes scanned the distance intently, making a gesture that seemed to be challenging a long pass.

This tactic worked again, immediately drawing the attention of the Cavaliers' secondary defenders.

They all ran back to their own half, trying to intercept the long pass.

However, Marcus canceled the pass again.

But the Cavaliers' defensive tackle Bruce, who charged in, wasn't going to let him get away with it.

Despite being pulled back by the Priests' defensive forwards, he was about to charge right up to Marcus.

Just as the pocket protection was about to be breached, Marcus suddenly ducked down.

With a nimble slide, he narrowly avoided Bruce's lunge.

Two forwards and guards quickly rushed over to intercept Bruce at Marcus's instruction.

Marcus's heart was pounding, but he remained calm on the surface.

Immediately afterwards, his gaze shifted like lightning to the right side of the middle lane.

There, his close forward is running a carefully designed delayed route.

He skillfully evaded the linebacker's marking and appeared in a brief opening!

Marcus had been waiting for this opportunity!

To this end, he did not hesitate to use himself as bait, luring the Cavaliers' defensive anchor Bruce to charge into his face.

And now, the opportunity has arrived!

Marcus swung his arm without hesitation and threw the ball hard into the open space!

Just at the very last moment before the ball was about to leave his hand.

No one expected that that damned number 99 would unleash astonishing power once again under double encirclement!

Bruce, as if descending from the heavens, used all his strength to ram into Marcus.

He managed to squeeze half a body length between the two people pulling him!

He then let out a deafening roar and slammed his huge hand down on Marcus's arm as he passed the ball!

Someone on the priests' bench couldn't help but exclaim:

"careful!"

Marcus's pupils constricted sharply.

He caught a glimpse of that large, fan-like hand out of the corner of his eye, and his heart skipped a beat!

Immediately afterwards, he felt it getting dark.

A massive, dark shadow loomed before him.

The pungent body odor mixed with the smell of cheap deodorant almost killed him.

"Smack!"

That's the sound of Bruce falling to the ground after his lunge.

The football thrown by the Pastors' quarterback Marcus narrowly escaped Bruce's diving hand.

But the flight path became high and drifting.

I've completely lost sights.

The close forward, who had originally made his way into space, had to jump up and struggle to save the ball.

The ball grazed his fingertips and flew out of bounds.

Out of bounds!

Dead ball!

The referee's voice rang out again:

"Pass failed!"

"Dead ball!"

"Third gear propulsion distance: 0!"

The Cavaliers' stands erupted in cheers.

"That's incredible!"

"Well done, Bruce! You're a fucking man!"

"What a pity! We almost intercepted it!"

In the audience, the previous frustration and dissatisfaction had been replaced by excitement and amazement.

Many of the spectators were not local students from River Valley High School, but rather community residents who were passing by or came specifically to watch the game.

They were also deeply moved by the breathtaking duel before them.

They began whispering among themselves, asking questions one after another:

"Who is number 99? That's amazing!"

"Bruce? Is that the big black guard who can play both offensive and defensive wing positions?"

Liu Yue was also stunned.

Unexpectedly, his friend's brother had such skills.

Unable to resist, she grabbed Li Ang's arm and exclaimed excitedly:

"Leon! Bruce is absolutely amazing! He single-handedly made the other side's defense so difficult!"

Li Ang remained silent.

His gaze was fixed on the blue figure on the field, who was outnumbered and struggling against the enemy's overwhelming force.

Everyone else is discussing how high Bruce flies.

Only Li Ang felt sorry for Bruce, wondering if he was suffering.

He saw Bruce bent over, hands on his knees, panting heavily.

Sweat streamed down from the edge of the helmet like a brook, dripping onto the grass.

Clearly, those intense collisions and breakthroughs had taken a huge toll on Bruce's stamina.

On the field, the referee announced again:

"Third-stage attack complete, distance advanced: 0!"

"Three downs for a total of 2 yards! Fourth down, still need to advance 8 yards, starting from your 37-yard line."

Upon hearing this data, the stands erupted in uproar.

Three downs combined only pushed the ball forward a mere two yards?

This is even worse than the disastrous attack by the River Valley High School Knights just now!

This data was like a resounding slap in the face to the Priests team, who had arrogantly chosen to play defensively when predicting the first move before the game.

The priests' captain, Marcus, immediately looked ashen-faced as if he'd eaten shit.

The numerous Cavaliers fans in the stands finally seized the opportunity and began to mock them mercilessly.

He released all the pent-up frustration he had been holding in since the beginning.

"Hahaha! Two yards! They only pushed two yards out in three rounds!"

"Weren't you pretty impressive just now? Daring to choose defense when predicting the first move? Is that all?"

"Look at their Latino captain, he looks like he's swallowed a fly!"

"Hey! Latino kid! Where did your arrogance and composure go? Did we, Number 99, eat you up?"

These sounds penetrated clearly into Marcus's ears, making his face even more grim.

He clenched his teeth tightly. He had never been so proud and arrogant before.

Especially on the sports field of the middle-class public high school he had always looked down on.

He was repeatedly taught a lesson in the most brutal way by a previously unknown black gorilla.

In the commentary booth, Kenny Douglas was also quickly analyzing:

"Incredible defense! The Cavaliers' number 99, Bruce Keaton, almost single-handedly froze the Priests' meticulously planned offense!"

"Three down, two yards – that’s an absolutely embarrassing number in the career of the Pastors’ star quarterback, Marcus Rodriguez. Now they’re on fourth down, eight yards from the first down line, at their own 37-yard line."

"This is a very difficult situation. Usually, to be on the safe side, the team will bring on the special teams to punt, pushing the game forward to avoid gifting the team a goal if they fail to break through from a dangerous position."

The vast majority of people in the stands, including many fans of the Pastors team, shared the same thought.

The risk of a strong attack with long codes in the fourth tier is too high.

Punt is the only rational choice.