Dominate the Super Bowl

Super Bowl.

The ultimate dream of every football player, Berry was no exception. He once thought that he might never have the chance to step onto the Super Bowl field to compete for the highest honor of the NFL.

But now.

The opportunity was right before him, just one game away, just one more game.

Uncontrollably, Berry became very excited.

However, Berry controlled himself. He didn't want his eagerness to destroy his hopes, especially since they still had the American League Championship game to fight. If they underestimated the Jacksonville Jaguars, the ending of the Pittsburgh Steelers would be a warning—

No one expected the Jacksonville Jaguars to defeat the Pittsburgh Steelers twice in the season, just as no one expected the Kansas City Chiefs to defeat the New England Patriots twice.

The closer to the dream, the more one needs to stay calm.

Give it your all!

Taking a deep breath, Berry finally managed to control his excitement.

Find adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

"James, how are we doing?"

Berry looked up at White, his eyes filled with hope but also tinged with nervousness.

White understood that feeling of being on edge, so he didn't keep him in suspense, "Everything's going smoothly."

Berry's eyes brightened, "So, can I make it? I mean, if the team… if…"

White understood what he meant and smiled, "If you continue with your rehabilitation as scheduled, yes, we can make it."

Berry clenched his fist, "Great!"

White gently patted Berry's shoulder, "Eric, you should have more confidence in yourself. You've always been so hard-working and dedicated, your perseverance and determination amaze me, there's nothing that can stop you from returning to the field."

Berry's eyes sparkled with fierce determination, "Do you know what the rookies told me? They fight on the field, and I have my own battles off the field. We are a team, no matter where we are or in what way, we are together fighting side by side."

Berry turned to look at White, "The brothers are fighting hard. How could I possibly let them down?"

Unwittingly, White also felt his blood boiling, but he still maintained his professionalism and calm, "So, are you ready for today's work?"

"Haha." Berry laughed heartily, "Just waiting for you to say that."

…

The night hung low.

The streets bustled with noise, and off-key singing fueled by alcohol strangely made its presence known amid the roar of engines.

"Conference Championship, here we come!"

"Fly! Fly! Fly!"

"The Chieftain is coming, watch out!"

Even though the divisional playoffs had ended two days ago, Kansas City was still in celebration mode.

Perhaps some people couldn't understand—it was only advancing to the Conference Championship, not the Super Bowl or reaching the summit of the Super Bowl. Was it really necessary?

But this was Kansas City.

They were easily satisfied. The first playoff win streak in twenty-four years was enough to put the whole city into party mode. The point wasn't how many wins the team had, but the spirit and strength they exhibited—

Never surrender, never give up, never admit defeat.

That inherent tenacity and spirit reignited the hopes of the residents of Kansas City, believing that the prolonged economic downturn would eventually end, that the harsh living conditions would ultimately improve, that the stubborn and resilient weeds would eventually survive the winter and see the first rays of spring sunshine.

That was enough.

With a wildcard match defeating the Tennessee Titans and a divisional game last-second win against the New England Patriots, the Kansas City Chiefs' season had far exceeded expectations. They weren't greedy.

Therefore, party mode was activated.

Provo sat in the alley behind the restaurant, squatting in front of a foul-smelling drain, wearing rubber gloves as he scrubbed kitchen utensils smeared with grease—

Not dishes, but the utensils and pipes for handling kitchen waste, sewage, and garbage. Not only were they filthy, but they also stank terribly. Cleaning them could leave his whole body reeking, the smell seeping into his skin like a horse's bath that couldn't be washed off, requiring at least three or four days to fade.

Worse, the hourly wage was only eight US Dollars, just slightly above the legally mandated minimum wage.

So, almost no one wanted to do this job.

But Provo had no choice.

With gloves, a mask, and a shower cap, he might as well have been handling industrial waste, but the pungent odor still made him retch, his stomach continuously churning, reviving last night's hamburger residues.

The same space, two worlds.

At the end of the alley, fans in the Kansas City Chiefs' home red jerseys flowed like lava. The gloom that had enveloped the city seemed to clear for a moment, a thin ray of sunlight filtering through.

Provo glanced over unintentionally and stopped in his tracks, staring blankly at that wave of heat, his thoughts lost in the brilliance of the night.@@novelbin@@

The team had finally broken the playoff curse, he should have been happy.

But he dared not.

Because he had always distrusted the team, because he had always refused to believe in them. He hadn't stood with the team, shoulder to shoulder. He wasn't sure he deserved to celebrate the victory.

He truly had been in despair for so long that he didn't know how to embrace hope, like someone who hadn't eaten meat for a very long time who suddenly gorges themselves, only to end up vomiting crazily, even falling seriously ill.

His world was deeply mired in mud, filled only with endless darkness and pain, struggling desperately in isolated despair, not even possessing the courage to end his own life, simply gasping for breath like trash.

He had forgotten how to embrace hope.

Not just him.

The entire city was the same. Kansas City had been in trouble for too long, so long that it had forgotten what a future filled with hope should look like, lifeless, moving like zombies.

Thus, apart from complaining and lashing out, he didn't know what else he could do.

More importantly, he was scared.

He was afraid he would become a curse, his misplaced pride possibly dragging the team down, becoming the chief culprit of ending the team's incredible season.

Perhaps, the sole reason the team created a miracle was because he, the cursed one, stayed away, not bringing bad luck to the team.

Maybe that was for the best, for him to continue rotting in the sewer, watching the team from a distance, silently observing as they wrote their miracle.

But, witnessing that brilliant red surge through the night sky, his heart couldn't help but start beating faster.

Wait, someone's there!

Provo noticed a figure appearing at the mouth of the alley and quickly averted his gaze, hastily hiding the longing and expectancy in his eyes.

He continued to busy himself with his work.

"… Chris."

Provo stole a glance, and it was West.

Provo didn't look up, his voice rough and aggressive as he attacked.

"You shouldn't have come here, careful you'll ruin your boots."

West sighed softly, "Chris, I haven't done anything to hurt you, you don't need to attack me."

Provo, sharp as a hedgehog, retorted fiercely, "Heh, so I should be thankful for your charity?"

West: … "Yes."

Provo was taken aback.

He admitted it, just like that?

Suddenly, Provo looked up, and West met his gaze unbowed.