Chapter 329 327: Alarm Bells Blare

"Hike!"

Bennett's focus was absolute. The moment the opposing number 14 quarterback's call left his lips, Bennett's feet dug in, and he launched himself forward. He shot out with the ferocity of a tiger descending a mountain, his eyes burning with ruthless, grim determination.

To tighten their pass defense, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers sent only a four-man rush—that is, the four players on the Defense Line were tasked with collapsing the pocket and pressuring the quarterback. The three linebackers and four defensive backs all dropped into pass coverage.

This meant the four players on the Defense Line were facing the five players on the Offense Line, putting them at a numerical disadvantage. It also meant Bennett was practically fighting on his own. He had to give it his all and seize any sliver of hope.

On the previous first down, the San Francisco 49ers had lost yardage on a run by Marcus Lynch. Now, facing a difficult second-and-twelve, a pass from the quarterback was highly probable.

Now, the Defense Team led by Bennett needed to go all out and catch their opponent off guard. After forgoing a blitz for several consecutive downs, they would now launch a surprise rush to put more pressure on the opposing number 14 quarterback. Even if they couldn't get the sack, they needed to disrupt the quarterback's passing rhythm and create more opportunities for their own weak secondary.

And so, Bennett exploded. He unleashed the primal power he had been holding back, letting it surge forth. His eyes flickered nonchalantly toward Mike Rupati on the inside—that was his target. He and his fellow lineman, Roy Miller, were about to execute a stunt.

As a Defensive Tackle, Miller was lined up on the inside; as a Defensive End, Bennett was on the outside. The two would execute a cross, evading the first wave of the Offense Line's push, and then cut into the pocket while their opponents were distracted. If they could just break through, they'd get a chance to come face-to-face with the quarterback.

His eyes locked onto the number 14 quarterback. In an instant: Explode, power, sprint, change direction, impact!

The entire sequence was fluid, with almost no hesitation, but Bennett slammed hard into a wall of flesh. His powerful momentum was snuffed out. The stunt created a split-second of change, which should have caused a reflexive hesitation, but Rupati hadn't lost focus for a second. He crashed forward without hesitation, blocking Bennett's path to the inside.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bennett saw that Chilo Rachal had also successfully blocked Miller.

"Dammit!"

But Bennett's focus never wavered. He lowered his head and charged furiously, pushing against the unmoving Rupati, rumbling forward as he tried to break through. It was as if he were back in training, performing rep after rep of collision drills. He summoned every ounce of his strength, ready to move a mountain with his shoulder if he had to.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

In this clash of titans, the slight advantage gained from the stunt—perhaps just a millisecond of delayed reaction—produced a startling effect. Rupati, who had been playing exceptionally well today, began to be driven back. The pocket started to shrink rapidly, far faster than anyone could have imagined.

But Rupati stubbornly held his ground. Bennett had no choice but to bull-rush, driving Rupati back toward Lu Ke's position. Closer, closer. The pocket was about to collapse completely. Bennett could already see Lu Ke's jersey, almost within reach. If he could just get past Rupati's shoulder, he could apply direct pressure and disrupt the pass.

Just then, Lu Ke took a step back and spun, dodging both Rupati and Bennett. He circled to the left, still looking to pass.

To Bennett, those clumsy, panicked footsteps were like a lion spotting a gazelle. He slammed his shoulder into Rupati one last time and used the rebound to launch himself at Lu Ke, hands raised high. He lunged with the terrifying ferocity of a starving tiger pouncing on its prey. In his vision, Lu Ke's figure grew larger and closer. This was a guaranteed sack!

Got him!

Wait, what's happening?

...

Standing in the pocket, his awareness covering all directions, Lu Ke had immediately sensed the ferocious blitz from the Pirate Team. The pocket was collapsing far faster than expected. The force of the rush had suddenly intensified, and in the space of a breath, the pocket had become a cauldron of Fierce Waves.

His right hand, which he hadn't yet raised, tightened slightly. Lu Ke quickly brought his arm up, preparing to get the ball out immediately to Lynch, who had found an open space. But then, the Defensive Tackle being blocked by Anthony Davis shot his right hand high into the air, creating a barrier between Lu Ke and Lynch. Then, in his field of view, Lu Ke saw a linebacker break off from Kyle Williams and quickly drop back to cover Lynch, cutting off every passing lane behind him.

'Danger.'

Alarm bells screamed in Lu Ke's mind, the premonition of an interception boiling inside him. He had no choice but to pull his arm back, protecting the ball and abandoning the short pass. But a quick scan with his peripheral vision revealed a grim situation. The receivers running their routes were all trapped in coverage, and none were in a good position—

According to the play design, this was a short-passing play. Three of the four receivers were running short routes, with only one cutting into the intermediate area to draw the defense's attention. As a result, the area where the short and intermediate zones met had become a quagmire, a chaotic tangle of crossing routes like a ball of yarn under a cat's paw.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Four seconds.

In the brief time it took to scan the field, the entire pocket had been severely compressed.

Amazingly, though the pocket was broken, the four Offense Line players had locked into one-on-one matchups, desperately holding back the Defense Line's advance. The center, Jonathan Goodwin, was even free and was quickly looking for a gap to plug, ready to provide help at a moment's notice.

Although Lu Ke hadn't been sacked yet, the speed of the collapse was far beyond what he had anticipated.

Making a split-second decision, Lu Ke spun to evade the pressure from Bennett and Rupati, escaping just before he was flattened into a pancake. He hadn't even fully turned before a maelstrom erupted behind him, a powerful sense of danger screaming in every cell of his body.

In a flash of lightning, Lu Ke made his choice. 'Absolute Step!'

First second.

Lu Ke slammed on the brakes, his muscles tightening to their absolute limit as he came to a hair's-breadth stop. He saw Bennett lunge past, claws outstretched, missing him by inches before crashing to the ground like a collapsing pagoda. Lu Ke's feet never stopped moving; he quickly circled to the right, still trying to find a target.

His eyes remained laser-focused, and he caught sight of Bennett's upraised hands trying to grab his feet. Lu Ke's mind went completely blank, with no idea how he did it. He just saw his own feet pull away, his right foot planting hard on the ground before he swung around in a wide arc. He could even feel Bennett's hands slapping at his left foot, but they couldn't get a firm grip. As if dancing on fire, he successfully dodged Bennett's surefire tackle.

His heart felt like it was about to explode.

Second second.

After one spin, and then another, the pocket was wide open. The one-on-one battles had shifted players to different positions, and now Miller, number 98 of the Pirate Team, came into view. Lu Ke was completely exposed in Miller's defensive zone. He didn't even need to get around Rachal; a single forward rush was all it would take to get the sack.

Rachal was trying his best to block Miller, but after the shift in position, Miller was completely unobstructed. He spun around and lunged viciously at Lu Ke. He was still a bit too far, so Miller pushed off the ground with all his might, flying through the air like a cheetah, his arms stretched out to their absolute limit as he dove for Lu Ke's legs.

In that critical moment, Miller completely forgot the rule about not tackling the quarterback below the knees. A sack, a sack—that was the only thought in his mind!

Got him!

Miller grabbed Lu Ke's ankle, but Lu Ke's feet were pumping like pistons, his choppy steps moving at an unbelievable frequency. In the battle between feet and hands, Miller ended up desperately clinging to Lu Ke's sock. But before he could tighten his grip, the dazzling footwork had completely thrown off his rhythm. He opened his hands, and his target was gone.

It was a frantic dance on a knife's edge. Every step was perilous, and he had even been partially tackled.

But Lu Ke still hadn't given up! He absolutely could not give up!

Third second.

He had barely escaped Miller's clutches and taken just half a step forward when he saw two more players bearing down on him. Anthony Davis was giving his all to stop number 53 of the Pirate Team, but he had completely lost his balance. He was rumbling to the ground, and even as he fell, Davis was still trying to wrap his arms around number 53's waist to stop him.

But number 53 was like a freight train, charging unstoppably toward Lu Ke.

His feet moved nimbly to the left as his upper body ducked down. He could feel a hurricane-force wind whip past his helmet. His knees began to tremble; his balance and strength were completely gone, and he could barely even stand, but he had somehow dodged yet another sack.

The next moment, without even time to reset his feet, Lu Ke took a single choppy step to plant himself firmly. He raised his right hand, the muscles in his forearm tensing to their limit. With a short, quick flick of his arm, he concentrated all the power from his core and arm, instantly unleashing it. Drawing the bow! Firing the arrow!

Pass!