Dominate the Super Bowl-Chapter 878 - 877 Who is the clown

Chapter 878: 877 Who is the clown

“Li Wei. Li Wei. Li Wei.”

Ndamukong had only one thought in his mind, just one single thought.

Not because of any personal vendetta, but because of McVay’s strategic layout.

Donald was going all out to pressure Mahomes, so what about Li Wei?

McVay hadn’t forgotten Li Wei, nor had he forgotten the “Chiefs Special.” The Los Angeles Rams’ pass rush concealment carried two layers of impact, targeting Mahomes and Li Wei, unleashing the ultimate weapon to precisely shut down the Kansas City Chiefs’ offense. McVay knew they had no fallback.

If adjustments were delayed until halftime, it could be too late.

So.

Ndamukong came.

Patience, patience. Despite his bear-like build, his movements were as sharp as a rattlesnake—calm and lucid, waiting for the opportunity to strike devastatingly.

On the surface, Ndamukong was assisting Donald, holding off two players to shield him, without any attempt to advance. Meanwhile, the offensive line player kept trying to break free and turn around to help block Donald.

Perfect moment, Mahomes seemed ready to pass the ball, but his target wasn’t Li Wei; this made it simpler for Ndamukong, who only had to cling tightly to the offensive line player without rushing forward.

Until Donald completed the hit, forcing Mahomes to hurriedly release the ball—

It was no longer a deliberate pass but an act of passive survival.

The Los Angeles Rams once again capitalized on Donald’s individual ability to create a chance.

Clear-headed, Ndamukong seized the brief moment after Li Wei caught the ball amid the chaos to adjust his footing and balance, still holding back from moving forward, instead utilizing the offensive line players as cover to conceal his presence and intentions.

Waiting, waiting some more.

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Ndamukong stealthily observed, seeing Li Wei notice an open path ahead—a straight, clear corridor. In the split-second dynamics of the game, with the secondary defense yet to reset and amid the whirlwind of imbalance, there was no time for hesitation. A slight adjustment of his steps led him shakily yet decisively straight ahead.

Gotcha!

Having waited and observed all along, Ndamukong decisively delivered an elbow strike to the opposing player, shoving away two figures before charging suddenly and unanticipatedly from the side, flying in for a tackle—

Targeting the lower body.

In football, a tackle aimed below the knees is called a low tackle, which is often prohibited due to the immense force and speed risks causing knee injuries. Low tackles against quarterbacks especially come with stringent penalties—strictly prohibited, with a yellow flag meaning a direct loss of fifteen yards.

As a seasoned foul player, Ndamukong was naturally well aware of this.

But at the same time, Ndamukong also knew that low tackles for wide receivers and running backs were punished less severely. Clearly, the league aimed to protect quarterbacks, while wide receivers and running backs were considered expendable—especially running backs.

Although low tackles against wide receivers and running backs might sometimes result in fouls, the judgments were far more lenient, with rough tackle penalties rarely imposed.

Now, Ndamukong set his sights on Li Wei’s knees.

Clenching his teeth, pouring all his power into the move.

Just earlier, Li Wei had delivered a shoulder throw to him; now, he’d return the favor with a season-ending “gift.” Perhaps something like an ACL tear?

Too bad the season only had two hours left at most. This gift still felt a little light. Hopefully, Li Wei wouldn’t mind.

Heh heh.

Ndamukong let out a sinister grin, accelerating swiftly, unleashing every ounce of his strength with no restraint.

Closer. Closer still.

Ndamukong dove like a swimmer plunging into deep waters, aiming for Li Wei’s knees, ankles, and the fragile shinbones that could snap in two with just a gentle twist, charging full force.

“Farewell, rookie. Goodbye forever!”

As Li Wei’s shins loomed within reach, the tackle and impact were about to succeed when Ndamukong’s grin started stiffening at his lips—

Where is he?

Out of sight, Li Wei had stopped abruptly, his feet making a sudden cut and halting, avoiding the cosmic collision about to occur and breaking away forcefully.

And then, Ndamukong slid past Li Wei majestically, utterly failing his sure-hit tackle with shocking ease.

“That’s it?”

Glancing upward, Ndamukong saw Li Wei’s eyes beneath the helmet—calm and puzzled, akin to Teletubbies cutely admiring a duckling waddling by, almost seeming ready to wave hello.

Humiliation!

But the next moment, Ndamukong’s face hit the ground, sliding away.

Thud thud thud, thud thud thud, his helmet and chin kept banging repeatedly against the turf—a series of sharp slaps that left Ndamukong seeing stars.

So, who really is the clown?

Soon after, Ansen moved past without pause, stepping over Ndamukong’s tightly clasped “mermaid tail.”

Literally stepping, not leaping—more like crossing over a filthy ditch.

Ndamukong: …

Quietly watching the back of the twenty-three jersey disappear, he forgot his anger and shame, overwhelmed entirely by shock and disbelief as he slid farther off.

Li Wei didn’t concern himself with Ndamukong, deeming him inconsequential.

Confusion may be present, chaos may be rampant, but Li Wei hadn’t forgotten to observe the defense. Blindly charging forward would only land him in trouble, and like sharpening a knife without wasting precious seconds, patient observation paired with calm decision-making was crucial to finding openings to advance.

Stop, observe, break through.

Bell’s signature move had now become a part of Li Wei’s skillset.

With an emergency halt, Li Wei adjusted his rhythm, regained his balance swiftly, and restarted again, entering his element.

Step one, step two—before he could fully accelerate, barely crossing the five-yard line from the snap, a massive engine powered through—a freight train barreling straight at him—

Corey Littleton the linebacker.

This linebacker was unarguably the hot topic player of this year’s Los Angeles Rams. An undrafted rookie from 2016, he’d spent two ordinary seasons with the Rams before erupting in his third year into full transformation and growth.

Playing vital roles for both the defensive group and Special Duty Group, Littleton had earned Second-Team All-American honors and his Pro Bowl invite thanks to clutch performances in crucial game moments—his Cinderella story even eliciting praise from McVay himself.

Some claimed his breakout was fueled by his rookie contract nearing its end.

Perhaps, but nonetheless, not just any undrafted player could seize their chance and push their team into the Super Bowl.

Tonight, on the Super Bowl stage, Littleton remained spectacular.

This time was no exception.

The Kansas City Chiefs’ receivers scattered wide, running toward mid-range and deep throws, leaving the short pass zone open.

After Li Wei effortlessly humiliated Ndamukong, Littleton had instantly realized the danger. He needed to stop Li Wei right here—otherwise… the consequences would be unimaginable.

Pushing off the ground, advancing.

Littleton focused entirely, picturing himself as Spider-Man—a seemingly ordinary high-schooler, insignificant and invisible, transformed into a superhero. From the skies, he would descend to become his team’s savior and decision-maker on the Super Bowl stage, as all of the City of Angels roared his name.

Littleton! Littleton! Littleton!

The cheers echoed to the heavens!