The Golden Field Stadium. First Quarter.
Time felt like it had been paused by God himself.
Just seconds ago, this arena holding 68,500 people was vibrating with boos, curses, and laughter.
Now? It was quieter than a library.
Actually, it was quieter than a graveyard.
You could practically hear a pin drop on the fifty-yard line.
Every single pair of eyes was glued to the bizarre scene in the middle of the field.
Two LA Horns Defensive Tackles—literal mountains of flesh weighing over 330 lbs each—were lying on the grass five yards away from where they started. They looked like bags of trash thrown out of a moving car.
One was twitching, his eyes unfocused. Definitely a concussion.
The other was clutching his chest, making the wheezing, rasping sound of a drowning man: "Cough... hack... my ribs..."
And standing right where the collision happened?
Levi.
Number 33.
He brushed some invisible dust off his shoulder pads.
He wasn't gasping for air. He wasn't limping. He looked like he had just finished a light jog in the park.
TWEEEEET—!!!
The referee's whistle finally shattered the silence. Not for a penalty, but for an injury timeout.
"Medic! Stretcher! NOW!!"
The Horns' Head Coach, Sean Vay, looked like he was about to have a stroke on the sideline. He ripped his headset off and threw it. He couldn't believe his eyes.
Those were his anchors! That was the "Iron Wall" of his defense!
Destroyed? In one hit?
On the giant Jumbotron, the broadcast director—who knew exactly what the people wanted—queued up the Super Slow-Motion Replay.
Sixty-eight thousand heads tilted up. No one breathed.
On the screen:
Levi looked like a solid cannonball firing into a pile of pillows.
At the exact millisecond of impact, the high-def cameras captured the horrifying physics. The fat and muscle on the Horns' defenders' faces rippled like water from the shockwave. Their eyes rolled back white instantly.
But Levi's body?
It didn't compress. It didn't shake.
It was pure, unadulterated kinetic dominance.
"Ugh..."
In the front row, a few burly fans who were screaming insults just moments ago covered their mouths. They looked green. The violence of the hit was visceral. It made your stomach turn.
Commentary Booth.
Chuck, the analyst who had mocked Levi earlier, looked like he had swallowed a live frog.
He took off his glasses. Wiped them. Put them on. Took them off again.
"That... that isn't science," Chuck stuttered into the microphone. "Newton is rolling in his grave right now. I mean, physics says equal and opposite reaction, right? Why does Levi look like he just walked through a spiderweb?"
Gold Rush Sideline.
The bench was silent too.
Quarterback Brock P. watched Levi walk back and instinctively took a step back.
Wide Receiver Deebo Sam swallowed a lump in his throat. "Damn... I'm glad I wear the same jersey as him. If that hit me, I'd be in the ER right now."
Only Head Coach Shannon was reacting differently.
He stood with his hands in his pockets, biting his lip so hard it bled, trying desperately not to laugh like a supervillain.
He looked at the chaos on the Horns' sideline.
Satisfaction.
Pure, injected satisfaction.
"Levi!"
Dr. Sophie Vance sprinted to the sideline, grabbing Levi's arm through the railing.
Her beautiful eyes were filled with panic and confusion. She scanned him frantically.
"Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Is your chest tight? That was 600 pounds of force, Levi! Don't play tough!"
Levi stopped. He took off his helmet, revealing a face slightly damp with sweat but completely calm.
He looked at Sophie's terrified expression and smiled. The smile was blinding under the stadium lights.
"Doc, are you worried about me? or are you worried about your medical thesis being wrong?"
"You jerk! I'm a doctor!" Sophie snapped, stomping her foot.
"Relax." Levi made a fist and thumped his own chest pads. Thud. Thud.
"I don't hurt. They hurt."
He turned his head.
Standing a few yards away was the Horns' defensive captain—Aaron "The Titan" Don.
The scariest man in football. A three-time Defensive Player of the Year.
Right now, The Titan was staring at Levi with a complicated look.
Levi smirked. He raised one finger at The Titan and wagged it gently.
"Is this your elite defense? Kind of brittle, isn't it?"
Taunting.
Straight up face-to-face disrespect!
"You wanna die?!!"
The Titan exploded. As the alpha of the league, he had never been talked down to like this.
"They got careless! They slipped! Don't get cocky, kid! Next play, I'm going to tear you into pieces myself!"
Game Resumes.
Gold Rush ball. 1st and 10.
The previous play didn't count as a touchdown because the whistle blew for injury before he crossed the line.
"Hut!"
Brock snapped the ball.
This time, everyone in the world knew where the ball was going.
"KILL HIM!!"
The Titan roared. This time, he didn't wait for the line to collapse. He took matters into his own hands.
The 280lb muscle monster tore through the offensive line like paper. He was a heat-seeking missile locked onto Levi.
"It's over! The Titan is in the backfield!" The announcer screamed.
Facing the strongest solo defender in the history of the game, Levi didn't pass. He didn't juke.
His eyes flashed red behind the visor.
[System Alert: Elite Enemy Detected.]
[Skills Maxed: Raging Bull Charge + Iron Wall (Super Armor State)!]
Levi didn't dodge.
He accelerated toward The Titan!
BOOM!!!
Another bone-rattling crash echoed through the stadium.
This time, no one flew three meters.
The two forces collided like meteors, freezing in place for a split second.
But only a split second.
"MOVE!!!"
Levi roared, veins popping on his neck like tree roots. His cleats dug into the dirt, tearing up the turf.
A tidal wave of power erupted from his core!
In front of millions of viewers...
The "unmovable" Aaron The Titan was being pushed back.
One step!
Two steps!
Three steps!
"Oh my GOD!!" The crowd gasped in unison.
The Titan felt like he had crashed into a moving mountain. His center of gravity collapsed. His legs gave out.
Thump.
He landed hard on his butt, sitting on the turf like a toddler.
Levi stepped over the fallen legend.
He didn't even look down.
He accelerated again, a red blur shooting into the empty secondary!
10 yards... 20 yards... 30 yards...
TOUCHDOWN!
When Levi stood in the endzone, holding the ball high this time.
The silence in the stadium finally broke.
It wasn't a cheer at first. It was a roar of disbelief that morphed into hysteria.
"LE-VI!!!!"
"LE-VI!!!!"
From zero to hero in two plays.
The Human Tank had arrived.