I revived the Demonic Sect in North America

Larry paid no heed to the away team's reaction; his voice rose even higher, filled with undisguised praise for the home team:

"Alright, let's turn our attention back to the real stars! The pride of Lincoln Academy, the Timbers! First, let's look at our defense! Led by our future NFL superstar, captain and center Dawn Johnson!"

As Larry began his drawn-out introduction, a mixed-race African giant, nearly two meters tall, weighing well over three hundred pounds, and sporting a shiny bald head, suddenly took a step forward.

Facing the main stands, he pounded his thick, armored chest with his fists, which were as big as casserole dishes, while letting out a beast-like roar.

"roar--!!!"

The home team's stands responded with even more frenzied screams and shouts.

Many female students were so excited that their cheeks turned red.

"This steel wall can move, guys! Anyone who dares to challenge his running back, I suggest you buy yourself insurance first!"

Larry continued to stir up trouble.

"And our offensive engine, the calm, precise, and star quarterback with a heart as cool as an ice canyon, Kyle Anderson!!"

The spotlight shone on a well-proportioned, handsome young white man with neatly combed brown hair.

Kyle Anderson didn't roar like Dwayne Johnson.

He simply took off his helmet with ease, gave the main stands a confident and charming smile, and waved gracefully.

His calmness contrasted sharply with Johnson's rage, yet both drew screams from countless girls.

After introducing the two stars of the lumberjacks team, Larry didn't forget to stab the guest in the back again:

"Oh my God... please give that young quarterback from River Valley College, Jonas Miller, another shot..."

"Look, guys, did you all see that? I bet a year's salary of his, his legs are shaking like poplar leaves in a storm! I swear to God! Poor kid, he looks like he's about to cry."

"Honestly, with an opponent like this, we might be making history tonight... not in terms of wins, but in terms of the number of opposing quarterbacks sacked in a single game! Let's pray for this brave young man, Amen!"

The harsh, malicious jeers nearly lifted the entire stadium off its feet.

This has gone beyond ordinary pre-match banter and has become an open and collective form of psychological pressure.

The Cavaliers players clenched their fists so tightly they cracked, their eyes practically spitting fire.

But beneath this anger lies a chilling helplessness and a deep anxiety.

Because that damn commentator Larry, despite his foul mouth, was speaking the truth.

They lost their starting quarterback and sent in a rookie who was so nervous he almost fainted.

"Alright! Warm-up time!"

"Captains, come to halftime and guess who goes first!"

The referee, holding the specially made, shiny large coin, walked to the center line.

As is customary, the away team captain guesses which side the coin will land on, and the winner has the right to choose whether to attack first, attack second, or choose one side.

On the Cavaliers' side, their former captain and starting quarterback, Jack Davis, is currently in detention.

The Duke coach, his face grim, yelled at Bruce:

"Bruce! You! Go! For the team to flip the coin!"

Bruce took a deep breath and walked towards midfield.

Johnson, the leader of the logging team, also came over, swaying his bear-like body.

The two players stood at the center circle line.

Johnson was a head taller than the burly Bruce.

Broader shoulders and a thicker neck.

He looked down at Bruce, grinned widely, revealing a mocking smile, and said in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"Hey kid, I heard you played well in the last game. I hope you don't go on the defense later. Save your energy and focus on the offense to match up against me, so I can have some fun."

Bruce completely ignored Johnson's trash talk, staring intently at the coin in the referee's hand, and said to the referee in a deep voice:

"Character."

The referee flicked his thumb, and the coin spun rapidly in the air, tracing a bright silver arc.

Then it fell, and he caught it steadily with the back of his hand, while quickly covering it with his other hand.

The referee glanced at it and announced loudly:

"It's a flower! Lincoln College wins the first guess! Come on, Captain Johnson, please choose."

Johnson made no attempt to hide his contempt:

"We choose to defend."

The entire stadium fell into an extremely unexpected and deathly silence.

Immediately afterwards...

"boom--!!!!!!"

More violent laughter, whistling, stomping, and cheering than ever before erupted like a tsunami.

It swept through the entire stadium!

Many home fans were laughing so hard they were doubled over, and some were even patting the shoulders of the people next to them.

The commentator Larry Jensen's voice rang out at the opportune moment, every word brimming with praise and fervor:

"Oh my God! My God! Did you hear that?! Defense! Captain Johnson has chosen defense! Hahahaha! What does this mean, dear viewers?"

"This means our good lads from the lumberjacks didn't take the poor River Valley Academy offense seriously at all! They generously gave up the first attack opportunity because they were confident that their formidable defense could crush those poor blue wretches on their own turf in the very first encounter and easily regain possession!"

"What confidence! What domineering spirit! I love this choice! Lumberjack, you fucking did a fantastic job!"

On the Cavaliers' side, everyone looked like they'd just lost their mothers.

This is the second time they have been blatantly humiliated by their opponents in this way during the coin toss, following their match against Fordham Prep last week!

Bruce's face instantly turned from ashen to a deep purplish-red, his blood rushing to his head and his temples throbbing.

He stared intently at the smug, fat face in front of him, every muscle in his body tense.

I wish I could punch that disgusting smile of his right now.

The Cavaliers fans in the stands instantly went wild.

"Fuck you, you bastard! Who do you think you are?!"

"How dare they?! You bunch of bastards!"

"This is outrageous!!"

However, these few voices were immediately drowned out by the thunderous laughter and cheers of the home crowd.

The Duke coach was furious, like a raging lion.

He kicked a bright orange bucket full of Gatorade right next to him, sending it flying.

Bright blue liquid was spilled all over the ground.

Then, pointing towards the midfield, he jumped up and down, cursing loudly:

"Boselt! You son of a bitch! You ill-mannered country bumpkin! You damn lumberjacks! You bunch of idiots with your brains full of sawdust! Just you wait! I'll kick the shit out of you!!"