I revived the Demonic Sect in North America

Chapter 147: Switching Between Offense and Defense!

The Cavaliers' bench went absolutely crazy!

All the players and coaches rushed out, waving towels, roaring wildly, hugging and high-fiving each other!

The Duke coach excitedly kicked the bucket next to him away.

Bruce lay on the ground for two seconds before getting up with the help of his teammates.

He was panting heavily, sweat pouring down his face.

The bandage on his left shoulder was soaked with blood and sweat.

But when he looked into Li Ang's eyes, they were frighteningly bright.

Li Ang ran over and bumped into him hard on the shoulder.

"Great pass, bro." Bruce's voice was hoarse, but full of exhilaration.

"Well done, bro," Li Ang replied with a fist.

The logging team's defense side was completely silent.

Dwayne Johnson stood there, his helmet having fallen to the ground sometime earlier.

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving violently, and the ferocious expression on his face had frozen.

It turned into extreme, unacceptable anger and a slight sense of bewilderment.

He was the defensive anchor of the lumberjacks, the fearsome meat grinder of Lincoln.

They were outplayed in public by a rookie quarterback and a half-crippled center in such a simple yet deadly way.

The opponent didn't even use any complicated tactics; it was just a sliding step that caught his eagerness to kill, a perfectly synchronized eye contact and hand gesture, and a precise backhand flick of the ball.

He went in and missed his target like a fool.

His defensive line was completely outmaneuvered, like a wooden stake.

"ah!

'

Johnson suddenly let out a roar like a wounded beast and slammed his fist into the innocent GG sign next to him.

With a loud bang, the GG sign dented significantly.

shame!

What a shame!

The Cavaliers kicked the ball again and scored.

Another point!

The score is now 35-28!

Only 7 points behind!

This score determines the outcome of one round!

The competition has almost returned to the same starting line!

In the commentary booth, Larry Jensen opened his mouth.

Looking at the numbers jumping on the scoreboard.

Surrounded by his Cavaliers teammates, the dark blue number 21 remained calm, as if he had just completed a regular training session.

Then I glanced at the lumberjacks' bench on the sidelines, where they were holding their heads in despair, looking like they had lost their parents.

And those yellow figures in the stands, their fury turning to blankness and then to panic.

He found himself speechless for a moment, unsure of what to say.

All the previous mockery, contempt, and pronouncements about luck, chance, and calling others rats, now felt like resounding slaps across his face.

This is the 21-year-old Chinese boy.

How long has he been on the field?

A touchdown was scored on a return of the first pitch.

A defensive steal led to a touchdown on the ensuing possession.

Now, a brilliant assist helps the team score another touchdown.

He single-handedly erased a huge 28-point deficit.

What was originally a massacre that had entered garbage time was transformed into a suspenseful showdown!

Larry felt his throat was a little dry.

He picked up the water glass and took a sip, only to find that the water was cold.

He could only lick his slightly chapped lips.

Finally, with a complicated tone, he spoke with difficulty: "Ladies and gentlemen, the score is 35 to 28. And it's not even the fourth quarter yet; there's still time left in the third quarter. I don't know what to say anymore—"

"The Cavaliers' number 21, Leon, is putting on the most insane and unbelievable individual performance I've ever seen in my twenty years of commentary."

"I hate to say it, but I have to: the lumberjacks are in big trouble. Huge trouble."

In the stands, the deafening roar of "Kill him!" had somehow subsided.

Instead, there was a stifling, uneasy silence, broken only by sporadic shouts of panic: "Defend! Hold on!"

'

"Keep it up, lumberjack! Don't let them overtake you!"

'

"The Rock! Wake up! What are you doing?!"

'

"We can't afford to lose any more points! It's too embarrassing!"

The anger remained, but even more so, there was a deep-seated fear and chill.

They began to truly realize that the young Chinese-American boy in the dark blue number 21 jersey was not bluffing.

He truly possesses the terrifying power to overturn the game and drag the invincible lumberjack team into the abyss.

If this home team, which once led by 28 points, were to ultimately be overturned...

That would be an indelible disgrace for the proud logging team and their supporters!

Nightmare!

The loggers' defense team members walked off the field dejectedly.

Their steps were as heavy as if they were filled with lead, each step dragging and powerless.

The team members kept their heads down, their helmets either tucked under their arms or held in their hands, and not one of them spoke.

Even the usually noisiest newbie kept his mouth shut.

Dwayne Johnson walked at the back of the group, each step heavy, the grass creaking under his feet.

Sweat smudged the black and green paint on his face, mixing with the dirt on the field, turning it into a tattered mask.

On the sideline, he ran into Kyle Anderson, who was about to lead the offensive group onto the court.

Both of them stopped in their tracks.

Johnson slowly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes meeting Kyle's gaze.

His lips moved, and the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched, as if he wanted to say something harsh.

But in the end he said nothing.

After all, in competitive sports, the results speak for themselves.

Losing means you're bad, and if you're bad but still talk tough, it means you can't accept defeat.

Even more embarrassing.

Kyle Anderson's face was as dark as leaden clouds before a storm.

As they brushed past each other, he could feel the heat emanating from Johnson.

And that aura of fury that almost materialized.

He said nothing, only nodding very slightly, almost imperceptibly.

It wasn't so much directed at Johnson, but more like at himself.

He then tightened the helmet straps and strode towards the court.

Li Ang still hasn't left the field.

He clapped his hands hard, the sound of his palms striking each other making a crisp, loud slapping sound.

The light swept across each defender walking back to the bench.

His voice was a little hoarse with excitement, but it had a resolute and penetrating power: "Hey! Guys! Look at the scoreboard! We were just one possession behind the Timbers! We've caught up!"

'

He stretched out his right hand and pointed his index finger sharply at the Lumberjacks' offense as they came onto the court: "They're scared! Their quarterback is sweating, their wide receiver is spying on me! Stuff that fear back down their throats! Make every tackle a lesson they'll learn to love tonight! Make every impact a lesson they'll regret ever stepping onto this field!"

'

As he spoke, he strode to the center line and looked into the eyes of the assembled defense team.

"Go on stage!"

'

Li Ang roared, clapping his hands forcefully above his head: "Let them see what a knight's defense looks like!"

66

The Cavaliers' defensemen, who had been exhausted, had their eyes blazing with renewed fire.

They pounded each other's shoulders and roared short slogans like a group of awakened fighters.

Li Ang's presence was like a shot of scalding adrenaline, injected directly into everyone's heart.