American Football: King of the Bay Area

Another day of training was done, bringing this week’s game one day closer. After packing up in the locker room, Lu Ke and his young teammates walked toward the parking lot, chatting and laughing.

Lu Ke was talking with Mike Lupati, who was right beside him. The two of them were discussing the New York Giants’ defense line. Their pass rush wasn’t particularly strong, and they didn’t get many quarterback sacks. However, their style was unique; they were often able to pressure the quarterback and force a surprising number of hurried throws.

“Hold it, hold it, hold it! Can you two just take a break for a second?” Aldon Smith, walking up ahead, rolled his eyes so dramatically you’d think they were about to pop out of his head. The exaggerated face he made sent Marcus, Logan, and the others into a fit of laughter. “We’ve been talking tactics all afternoon. I know the game’s almost here, but our brains need a rest—a rest! You guys can stop now.”

Lu Ke and Rupati didn’t argue. They just exchanged a glance and started laughing too.

Just then, a DING sound echoed in his mind, and Lu Ke’s brow furrowed slightly. ‘Today isn’t a game day, and it’s not a special occasion, so why would the system suddenly send a message?’

While still walking with Rupati and the others, he mentally summoned the system. He found a new message in his inbox—it was a special mission! ‘So much for an answer,’ Lu Ke thought, ‘now I’m even more confused.’

He opened the message. Emblazoned on it were the words, “Special Mission: The Scorn of Charles Davis.”

‘Charles Davis? Who’s that?’

After a long day of mental exertion, Lu Ke’s mind was still stuck on game film and the playbook. His thoughts were moving a little sluggishly, and he drew a complete blank on the name “Charles Davis.” “Mike, is there a Charles Davis on the New York Giants?” That was his first reaction.

“Who?” Rupati was just as lost, a look of confusion on his face.

“Bambi! Bambi, quick, look!” Aldon’s boisterous voice cut in, rapid-fire and gleeful, interrupting Lu Ke and Rupati. Both of them turned to see Aldon rushing over to stand beside Lu Ke. He jutted out his chin, gesturing straight ahead.

Lu Ke followed his gaze and froze.

Reporters. The place was swarming with them. Every one of them had a camera hanging around their neck and a briefcase slung over their shoulder. They were scattered across the parking lot, making small talk in little groups. A quick scan revealed at least fifty reporters gathered in the huge lot, and there were probably even more lurking in the corners.

It was Thursday, not Wednesday. For a team without a game that week, it was just an ordinary Thursday. All eyes were supposed to be on Thursday Night Football—the undisputed center of attention. ‘So why are so many reporters gathered in our parking lot?’

“Why call me over?” Lu Ke asked Aldon, confused. He’d thought it might be fans, or maybe family, but he hadn’t expected reporters. He didn’t have any direct business with them.

“Besides you, who else on this team do you think could draw a crowd of reporters?” Logan chimed in mercilessly from the side. It was a rare chance to take a jab at him, and he wasn’t about to pass it up. “Even Patrick Willis doesn’t get visited by reporters this often.”

“So, does that make Colin Kaepernick a washed-up celebrity now?” Lu Ke retorted, rolling his eyes. His comeback made all his teammates crack up.

Over the past two weeks, a fair number of reporters had come specifically to interview Kaepernick.

With Lu Ke’s starting position growing more secure by the day, it was clear the coaching staff wouldn’t bench their starting quarterback as long as the wins kept coming. As a fellow rookie, Kaepernick undoubtedly felt this the most. A second-round pick, he was once considered the future of the team, but now he could only watch from the sidelines. The reporters were intensely curious about his reaction—

Of course, they were also trying to dig up any signs of discord in the San Francisco 49ers locker room. Kaepernick was the perfect angle.

Before anyone could respond to Lu Ke’s quip, the reporters gave him his answer. “Lu Ke! Lu Ke! Lu Ke!” Their calls came one after another, urgent and excited. In an instant, they all swarmed forward. The scene was a spectacle, like a tidal wave crashing down on him.

In a flash, the reporters swarmed the players. But just as quickly, everyone else scattered, escaping the closing circle and leaving Lu Ke trapped all by himself.

His eyes went wide as he watched his teammates shamelessly abandon him. Even Logan and Marcus had bolted. Lu Ke could only shake his head. ‘So much for friendship,’ he thought. Still, he composed himself and turned to face the reporters with a questioning gaze.

He didn’t see Jay Fox in the crowd. ‘Looks like he missed this hot story,’ Lu Ke mused. ‘No wonder I didn’t get a heads-up.’

“Lu Ke, Charles Davis said that if the 49ers beat the Giants this week, he’ll crawl all the way from Hollywood to the Great Wall. What’s your reaction to that?”

The question was fired off without leaving him a moment to breathe. Lu Ke’s knee-jerk reaction was, “Who?” He swore he wasn’t doing it on purpose.

“Charles Davis. He’s an analyst for ESPN’s *Inside the League*. At the start of the season, he insisted that you weren’t cut out to be a starting quarterback and probably wouldn’t even finish your first game.” A reporter ‘helpfully’ supplied, fanning the flames with the extra details.

It finally clicked for Lu Ke. “Oh, right. The commentator who was going to eat his microphone. Is he okay?” The memory slowly came back to him. Unintentionally, Lu Ke had just twisted the knife.

‘This time, though, it was on purpose. Is that commentator’s brain wired wrong or something? Why does he keep coming after me? I’m just an innocent bystander getting caught in the crossfire!’

“Judging by your question, he must be doing fine now. That’s a relief.” Lu Ke smiled and nodded, putting on a look of genuine comfort.

“So, what do you think about his bet? On the other hand, another commentator on the show, Spencer Larson, said that if the Giants win, he’ll kneel down and kiss Eli Manning’s shoes.” The reporters were practically pouring gasoline on the fire, hoping to make the story even more explosive.

A look of realization dawned on Lu Ke’s face. He tucked his chin slightly. “So, is he going to crawl on his knees, or is he going to lie down and wriggle over like a caterpillar?” As he spoke, Lu Ke raised his right hand and gave a vivid imitation of a wriggling invertebrate.

With that casual remark, he had delivered his response, a sharp jab at Charles.

The reporters were instantly buzzing with excitement. ‘He took the bait! Lu Ke took the bait! Finally!’

“Lu Ke, are you saying you think Charles is guaranteed to lose this bet? That the San Francisco 49ers will beat the New York Giants this week?” The reporters kept fanning the flames.

Lu Ke smiled and shrugged. “For me and the team, receiving Mr. Larson’s high praise and support is our greatest motivation to pursue a victory. I want to sincerely thank him for that.” With a clever sidestep, Lu Ke avoided a direct answer, instead offering an indirect confirmation with a relaxed air.

“As for Mr. Charles Davis,” Lu Ke continued, as if giving earnest travel advice, “the Great Wall is one of the Seven Wonders of the World. A definite bucket-list item.” He paused. “But crossing the Pacific Ocean on foot is obviously impossible. So how about this? Instead of Hollywood to the Great Wall, let’s change it to Hollywood to the Statue of Liberty. Route 66, after all, carries the history of the North American continent.”

Crossing the Pacific Ocean meant Charles would be on a boat or a plane. No human has ever swum across it. In other words, Lu Ke was implying the bet had no sincerity and was impossible to fulfill. But crawling across the North American continent via Route 66? That was something that could actually be done.

The subtext was clear: Charles was going to lose.

After saying his piece, Lu Ke deliberately broke into a huge grin, his eyes crinkling into slits. “Well then,” he said amicably, “I wish Mr. Charles Davis the best of luck.” With that, Lu Ke started walking, calmly striding out of the circle of reporters—

The reporters automatically parted to let him through, watching as Lu Ke slowly walked away. The excitement in their eyes was impossible to hide.

The story had just exploded.

On his way to his car, Lu Ke summoned the system again to take a closer look at the special mission.

“Special Mission: The Scorn of Charles Davis. Mission Description: During the Week 10 regular season game between the San Francisco 49ers and the New York Giants, *Inside the League* analyst Charles Davis has declared that the 49ers have absolutely no chance of winning. He expressed his deep disdain and ridicule by proposing an impossible wager to show his conviction. These comments have caused a massive uproar throughout the league and will further motivate the New York Giants, increasing the game’s difficulty. Will you go against the tide and press forward bravely, or will you bow your head in submission? Mission Requirements: Lead the team to victory. Achieve a higher quarterback rating and PFF grade than Eli Manning. Commit no turnovers via interception or quarterback fumble. Mission Reward: +10 to a random attribute. Failure Penalty: -5 to a random attribute; ‘Reporter Rebuttal’ skill enters a three-week cooldown; performance in the next week’s game will decrease by ten percent.”

After carefully reading the special mission from top to bottom, Lu Ke finally understood just how significant Charles’s wager was—or rather, just how severe the social impact of this bet had become. The failure penalty made it clear. This was the first time, outside of a goal-oriented mission, that Lu Ke had seen a penalty that *decreased* an attribute!

And it wasn’t a deduction of basic points like with a standard mission failure. It was a direct drop in an attribute—and a random one at that!

This meant one thing: this was a must-win mission.

‘Great,’ he thought. ‘Now there’s one more reason I have to win this week!’