I revived the Demonic Sect in North America

Coach Duke squinted, scrutinizing Li Ang from head to toe without any politeness, as if he were examining a defective product.

He stroked his chin, which was covered in rough stubble, and his brows furrowed deeper and deeper:

"Hey Chinese kid, you look familiar. Did you come here for a tryout before? Your name is Li... Li something?"

"It's Li Ang, Coach!"

Before Li Ang could speak, Bruce immediately interrupted.

His tone was urgent, and his face showed undisguised admiration:

"Coach Duke, Leon is my best brother, and he wants to join our football team! Coach, give him a chance, he's incredibly talented!"

The Duke coach slapped his forehead.

Then it dawned on him:

"Li Ang... Oh, right, it's you. I remember now. In the entrance physical fitness test, you were the only freshman to sprint 40 yards in under 4.3 seconds, right?"

"That's right, Coach!"

Bruce immediately replied, his dark face glistening with eagerness and the effects of his previous vigorous activity.

He nodded vigorously, emphasizing in an urgent tone:

"He runs really fast! Coach, give him a chance!"

The Duke coach lifted the muscular arm, the thick arm stretching the sleeve of the training uniform taut.

His brows furrowed tightly, and his gaze swept over Li Ang's somewhat thin body as if he were inspecting merchandise.

Then he shook his head decisively, his tone leaving no room for doubt:

"Save your breath, kid. No way."

"Why?!"

Bruce blurted it out.

The expectation on his face instantly turned into astonishment and resentment.

He took half a step forward and involuntarily raised his voice:

Why?

The Duke coach scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer, his words quick and sharp, filled with disdain:

"Listen up, kid. This isn't some damn track and field team, or some fucking after-school study group! This is the River Valley High School Knights football team!"

"What kind of people do we need? Warriors! Tough guys who would rather die than give up their positions on the front line! Soldiers who would give anything to win, who would never go west if they said they were going east! Beasts that can roll in the mud and knock their opponents over!"

He spat in Li Ang's direction and continued:

"Not your friend, that kind of well-behaved, bookish Chinese-American nerd who needs to carry tissues all the time and whose head is filled with nothing but math formulas and all sorts of bullshit theories!"

"And I still remember when I saw you were fast, I kindly pointed you in the right direction, telling you how to get strong quickly and how to survive in this sport. And what the hell did you say back?"

Coach Duke glanced meaningfully at Bruce, whose muscles looked like they were cast in steel, then looked contemptuously at Li Ang and said:

"You actually look down on my suggestion of steroid injections? Look at Bruce, do you see? How powerful and formidable he is! That's the power of the Nine Dragons!"

"You're a troublemaker with even more ideas than a scoundrel, self-righteous, and who doesn't even listen to the coach! There's no place for you on my team, understand? Get out of here right now!"

Li Ang calmly met Duke's aggressive gaze and said calmly:

"Coach, I understand your requirements. I've been working hard to improve lately. Please give me another chance to try out, and I will prove that I can meet the team's standards."

"Promotion? Proof?"

Coach Duke's face was full of undisguised sarcasm; he curled his lip as if he had heard the funniest joke.

"Physical fitness and strength aren't something you can achieve by doing a few push-ups at home! It requires not only blood and sweat, and relentless training, but also the selfless gift of the great god of steroids!"

"coach!"

Bruce could no longer contain himself. He suddenly took a big step forward and used his broad body to completely block Li Ang's way, his chest heaving violently with excitement.

He stared at Duke and said without hesitation:

"If you don't let Li Ang join... then I'm not playing anymore! I'm leaving the team! I mean what I say!"

Li Ang's body trembled slightly as he looked at the resolute figure blocking his way, a complex emotion flashing deep in his eyes.

"You brat, what did you say?!"

Coach Duke's angry expression froze instantly, turning into astonishment, as if he hadn't heard clearly.

Immediately, an even greater rage ignited within him. His eyes widened, and he growled:

"Leave the team? Bruce Washington! Are you fucking insane?! You're going to ruin your bright future for this nerd?!"

"I'm not crazy!"

Bruce roared back without backing down, the veins on his neck bulging.

"If you don't let Li Ang join the team, I'll quit! I've already sworn to stand with Li Ang through thick and thin! At worst, I'll hand over my gear and leave the school team today!"

The Duke coach was so angry that his temples throbbed.

Bruce was his most prized disciple and the soul of the team.

It is also the Cavaliers' only hope of making the playoffs.

Deep down, the Duke coach was unwilling to offend Bruce.

But the performance of the football team directly affects Duke Hunter's job and reputation.

He would never easily break the rules he set and set such a dangerous precedent just because of a player's threat.

Otherwise, anyone in the team will dare to bring in random people or threaten to strike, and how can the team be managed?

The Duke coach suppressed the urge to explode.

He took a step closer, almost face to face with Bruce, and said in a low, angry voice:

"Bruce, use your muscle-bound brain to think this through! You're an athletic scholarship student! Your full scholarship, your free meals, every perk you get at this lousy school—it's all tied to this team in black and white!"

"If you dare quit the team, believe me, one phone call from me and the school can cancel everything you've been given! You'll be kicked out! What will happen to you and your mother? Your damn dream of going to university, your chance to change your destiny, do you still want it?! Huh?!"

These words were like a bucket of ice water poured over Bruce's head.

His face turned deathly pale in an instant.

Her lips were pressed tightly together, and a hint of undisguised pain and struggle flashed in her eyes.

The family's predicament, and the mother's expectations.

Rugby was his only way out, a heavy burden on his shoulders, and a sword hanging over his head.

But Bruce only froze for a moment.

Then, he abruptly raised his head, the struggle in his eyes vanishing, replaced by an almost cold, resolute determination.

He stared at the Duke coach and said, word by word:

"Okay, coach, since the contract is binding, I have no choice but to stay. But if you force me..."

He paused, then said decisively:

"Even if I stay physically, my heart won't be here. You'll never see me like I did yesterday, fighting to the last second, sweating my last drop, for a game we couldn't win! Next week, let others fight it out! See how long they can last without me? The first quarter? Or their first offensive possession?"