American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

"What kind of nobles?" Li Wei raised an eyebrow, asking with interest, playing along.

"Greedy vultures, and the old lords who once controlled the Kingdom's water sources and trade routes," Don Quixote said, his eyes shut tight and his expression grave. "You haven't just obtained a magnificent castle. More fatally, you've also gotten a liquor license that gives you free rein within the Kingdom."

"The profits from that liquor are too staggering. It's like flowing Gold." Don Quixote's brow furrowed tightly, and he lowered his voice as if afraid of being overheard. "My friend, you must understand that fame attracts trouble. When your carriage, filled with Gold Coins, parades through the marketplace, when your brilliance outshines even the traditional great families, there will always be bandits waiting to shoot an arrow from the shadows."

After saying this, he muttered something about training and honor, then left, shaking his head.

...

「January 9th.」

When Sophie, a tourist from Paris, pushed through the revolving doors of her Midtown Manhattan hotel, she thought she had walked into a riot.

"What's going on?" She clutched her bag nervously and quickly asked the doorman beside her, "What happened? Is this some kind of protest?"

The snow on the streets had been trampled to slush. As far as she could see, traffic was at a complete standstill. The normally yellow taxi cabs now had drivers rolling down their windows, waving blue flags.

Sophie even saw a young man, shirtless in New York in January after a blizzard, jump onto a pickup truck and wave a huge flag from its roof, printed with a face and name she didn't recognize.

"A protest?" The doorman shook his head. "Don't worry, ma'am. They're cheering on their team."

Sophie's goal for the day was to visit the Empire State Building, but due to the traffic congestion, she waited for about 20 minutes before managing to squeeze into an Uber.

She was surprised to find that the driver was also wearing a blue hat. The voice from the car radio drifted out over the airwaves:

"...There's no doubt about it. If Li Wei leads the Giants to victory today, he will unquestionably make history. Troy, you know what this means—17-0. This is a sacred moment that countless Hall of Fame Quarterbacks could never touch in their entire careers."

'Li Wei?' The name flashed through Sophie's mind.

"That's right, Joe, but it also means that starting tomorrow, Li Wei will be carrying the most terrifying pressure in the history of North American professional sports," another voice said. "If he can't win the Super Bowl in the upcoming playoffs, then this 16-game winning streak will become a laughingstock."

The Uber came to a complete stop on 34th Street. Fortunately, the Empire State Building was already in sight, so Sophie got out and walked toward her destination.

Along the way, she felt as if the entire city had come alive—tens of thousands of fans in blue jerseys formed a procession that stretched beyond the horizon.

They had no clear destination, simply surging through Manhattan's grid-like streets like blood through veins.

On the giant screens in Times Square, the massive LED arrays that usually displayed ads for luxury goods, perfumes, and tech company earnings reports were now all synchronized to show the image of a young, black-haired Asian man and his game highlights. He wore a number 1 jersey, and above his head was the glaring question, "17-0?". The background was a montage of the logos of the thirty-one other NFL teams, all burning in flames.

Every time a replay of him completing a pass or shaking off a defender ended, the entire street would erupt in a massive roar that felt like it would shatter Sophie's eardrums.

Overwhelmed with shock and confusion, Sophie followed the dense crowd through a lengthy security check and finally reached the 86th-floor observation deck of the Empire State Building.

As she stood hundreds of meters in the air, facing the biting cold wind and looking down at the world's number one Metropolis, she was completely stunned.

Below her, Manhattan was no longer a financial empire of gray steel and concrete.

From the edge of Central Park to the financial streets of the Lower City District, several major avenues were filled with countless bobbing heads and blue banners, resembling bulging blue veins on the body of the city.

Just as Sophie was wondering who on earth Li Wei was and why she had never heard his name in France, a deep roar sounded from high above her.

Sophie and the other tourists looked up to see a heavy helicopter that had taken control of Manhattan's airspace. It flew slowly across the sky, towing a giant banner behind it:

"Go Giants, Go Li Wei, We Conquer All."

「Meanwhile, at the Giants' headquarters.」

In contrast to the frenzy engulfing Manhattan, the Giants' data analysis room was remarkably calm, with only a massive flow of data and records.

The Giants' owner, John Mara, sat in his seat, listening to a briefing from a data analyst.

"CBS, NBC, and Fox have reached a simulcast agreement. This game is projected to have higher ratings than the 2007 game, reaching 45 million viewers, making it second only to the Super Bowl," the analyst said.

"Additionally, regarding merchandise, Li Wei's jersey is sold out in the North American market, and pre-orders are backed up for three months. This has also driven significant growth in sales of other merchandise and other players' jerseys."

John Mara nodded slightly. "How are the consumer sales around MetLife Stadium?"

"Outside the stadium, in the tailgating areas, all the Budweiser beer and meat products are completely sold out!"

The commentators were also discussing this. Joe Buck shouted as he looked at the latest data in his hands, "Can you believe this, Troy? The vendors inside the stadium are restocking from Walmarts in surrounding cities!"

"That is a truly incredible statistic," Troy's voice also held a serious note. "But, Joe, I don't think this is good news."

"Why would you say that, Troy?" Joe Buck teased. "Are you just jealous because you're afraid I'll win that 1,000 USD? After all, the odds were 1-to-45."

"Hmph," Troy snorted. "That's a decent chunk of change, Joe, but that's not what I'm talking about."

"The immense exposure is a double-edged sword, Joe," he said. "I'm a Hall of Fame Quarterback, I know this feeling all too well. Do you know what the atmosphere was like in the New England Patriots' locker room the night they got their 16th straight win in 2007? It wasn't celebration. It was suffocation."

"The outside world has built Li Wei up into a god, and gods can't bleed," he said. "The moment he loses a single game in the playoffs, this fervor will instantly flip into the most terrifying storm of backlash in North American sports history."

Joe Buck realized it too and agreed with Troy's point.

"And now, to our viewers at home," he said playfully, "please wish me, Joe Buck, good luck, because whether or not I win the biggest lottery prize of my life will be decided today."

The heavy helicopter with the banner flew past the Fox studio, heading straight for MetLife Stadium, and along the way, it got a close-up shot of the Giants' team bus convoy passing below.

Unlike the ocean of fanaticism that had swept over Manhattan, the atmosphere inside the bus was exactly as Troy Aikman had described, not one bit different.

Dead silence.

The air felt like it was filled with lead, weighing down on the heart of every New York Giants player.

The wide receivers, who usually loved to crack jokes and blast rap music on the bus, were now staring intently at their tablets, memorizing route trees they already knew by heart.

The 300-plus-pound offensive linemen had their eyes closed, hands clasped tightly to their chests, muttering prayers under their breath.

One young backup player was so nervous his face was pale, and he was hugging a trash can, dry-heaving repeatedly.

The air conditioning on the bus was blasting, but some players were still breaking out in a cold sweat.

Winning this game would mean a 17-0 record, a miracle in the history of North American professional sports.

But this crown was too dazzling, too heavy—so heavy that even these battle-hardened professional players felt as breathless as rookies just entering the league.

They all knew that if they lost today, the honor of the previous 16 consecutive wins would vanish. They would be turned into a laughingstock across the entire United States of America by angry fans.

Most importantly, none of them could afford to be the one who dragged the team down. If Li Wei and the others played normally, but their own performance was terrible and cost them the game, the fans would have an outlet for their frustration, and they would become living targets.

Dexter Lawrence nervously tugged at his collar. The veteran core of the defense felt like he had a rock in his stomach.

He took a deep breath and his eyes subconsciously darted to the last row of the bus.

Li Wei was leaning back in his seat, wearing his signature Beats noise-canceling headphones, his eyes glued to the screen in his hands, perfectly still.

Lawrence felt like maybe he should go up there and say something, give Li Wei a bit of a pep talk.

'Judging by how he looks, his stress must be maxed out. After all, the kid is only nineteen. Even if he's a tyrant on the field and has absolute dominance in the locker room, no one can withstand this kind of pressure.'

He was certain that Li Wei must be so nervous right now that his mind had gone blank.

As a team veteran and a staunch supporter of Li Wei—one who would back him no matter what—he stood up and walked over to Li Wei, intending to pat him on the shoulder and offer some warmth from a teammate.

However, when his gaze passed over Li Wei's shoulder and landed on the phone screen, he froze.

Li Wei wasn't watching game footage or tactical analyses. He was watching silly videos!

Li Wei noticed the shadow over him, hit pause, and looked up to meet a nervous Dexter Lawrence's gaze.

"What's up, Dexter?" he asked, blinking.

Lawrence hesitated. "How are you feeling right now?"

"How am I feeling about what?"

"You know... the pressure. The pressure of a 17-game winning streak." Dexter swallowed hard, trying to convey to Li Wei how many people's expectations were riding on him. "Haven't you thought about what will happen if you lose?"

Li Wei raised a finger, pointed to his own nose, and a look of pure, genuine confusion appeared on his face. "Who? Me?"

He turned his head, glanced at the atmosphere in the bus, then looked back at Lawrence's grave expression, and couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

"I'm not going to lose," he said, pointing to himself. "I'm going to lead the Giants on a winning streak all the way to lifting the Super Bowl trophy. Believe it or not."

After saying that, he glanced at the expression on Lawrence's face, shrugged, put his headphones back on, and resumed his video.