American Football: King of the Bay Area

"Special Mission: A Challenge from Geno Atkins."

With time being so tight, Lu Ke couldn't afford to read the mission description and rewards carefully. He only managed to glance at the requirements: "Lead the offense to score: three or more times; Defeat Geno Atkins: evade his sacks three or more times; Win by yourself: Special Skills disabled."

To be fair, Lu Ke's only Special Skill at the moment was a single use of "Absolute Step," so it wouldn't have made a huge difference anyway. But he could clearly sense that the mission's detailed requirements meant he had to be on his A-game. Facing Atkins's aggressive style, Lu Ke would need to rely on tactical combinations to defeat him.

A duel between a quarterback and a Defensive Tackle or Defensive End is never just a physical confrontation.

Lu Ke's physique was not top-tier. Take, for instance, a comparison between two other rookies: quarterback Cam Newton and Defensive End JJ Watt. Watt had the clear advantage in both height and weight. Both players were at the absolute peak of physical conditioning, but if they were to engage in a direct, physical clash, Newton would undoubtedly be the one to get injured.

That's because a quarterback's core skills are their passing touch and Tactical Awareness. In contrast, Defensive Ends and Defensive Tackles train for physical confrontation. They have to battle the Offense Line, stop charging running backs, and execute quarterback sacks. Physicality is their foundation, but their ceiling is determined by their awareness—their ability to spot and exploit opportunities and weaknesses.

Even for Newton, lauded as "Superman," expecting him to physically overpower Defensive Tackles and Defensive Ends would be unrealistic.

Therefore, the confrontation between Lu Ke and Atkins was truly a clash of wits and brawn. Lu Ke had to read the defense, successfully predict their intentions, and direct the Offense Line to make the corresponding blocks. Then, using the receivers' routes and the running back's assignment, he had to tear open the defensive line, break through Atkins and his teammates on the Defense Team, and gain yardage.

The mission's requirements boiled down to this: first, score. Whether by field goal or Touchdown, the 49ers had to put points on the board. Second, evade. He had to use the Offense Line's blocking to avoid being sacked by Atkins. Although he had no idea how the game would judge his execution, Lu Ke had a basic grasp of his task.

So, with his Special Skills disabled, Lu Ke communicated with the coaching staff and boldly ran a trick play, fooling the Fierce Tiger Team's entire Defense Team for a massive gain.

However, this was just the beginning. The game was far from over; even this current drive hadn't ended yet.

Now, the San Francisco 49ers' offense had reached the opponent's 35-yard line, and the drive continued. As per the coaches' play call, Lu Ke handed the ball to Lynch again after the snap.

This time, there was no trickery. It was a genuine running play.

The Cincinnati Bengals Defense Team was on high alert. Noticing the handoff between Lu Ke and Lynch, two linebackers and one Defensive End flew toward Lu Ke as a precaution. The remaining four players on the Defense Line and another linebacker charged forward ferociously, completely blocking all of Lynch's running lanes.

But the aftereffects of the trick play still lingered.

After taking the ball, Lynch didn't charge blindly forward. Instead, he spotted a defensive misalignment, cut around the clash between the Offense and Defense Lines, and burst into a gap on the right. The corresponding cornerback and safety immediately moved in to make the tackle, but they were half a step too slow.

Like a bulldozer, Lynch plowed forward for a hard-earned seven yards before finally being tackled to the ground.

The intensity of the battle between the offense and defense ratcheted up a notch. At this moment, the San Francisco 49ers held a slight advantage.

The drive continued. Second and three.

After they lined up again, Lu Ke didn't immediately crouch for the snap. He stood tall, carefully studying the defensive formation. It was still a heavy-blitz 4-3 formation. One linebacker had even crept forward, creating a five-man front and leaving only two behind. All eyes were fixed on Lu Ke, sharp and intense.

The End Zone was now just twenty-eight yards away, well within range of a deep pass. Yet the Cincinnati Bengals maintained their reckless, high-pressure stance. It was the exact opposite of the Dallas Cowboys' strategy from the previous week. The Bengals had made up their minds: strike at the heart of the matter. If they could just contain Lu Ke, everything else would fall into place.

Lu Ke's weaknesses—his pocket mobility and ability to handle physical contact—were easy to spot from the first two games. However, in the second week's game, he had also scrambled with the ball twice, displaying surprising mobility. That, too, had to be taken into account.

The Fierce Tiger Team's defensive formation was highly aggressive. By stacking the line, their run defense was exceptionally strong, even if a blitz didn't get home. It was clear they had devised a detailed and meticulous strategy against Lu Ke: fight speed with speed, clash strength against strength, and do whatever it took to hide their weakness in pass defense.

However, one trick play had slightly disrupted the Fierce Tiger Team's plan.

Now came the crucial test: should they stick to their original plan or make adjustments? A game can change in an instant. A player's true ability is revealed in how they adapt to the situation in real time.

Geno Atkins stared intently at Lu Ke, his focus absolute. He could feel the blood pounding in his veins, a surge of restless excitement.

Lu Ke was just a rookie quarterback—an undrafted rookie, and a player of Chinese Descent, no less. Yet, under all this pressure, he still displayed exceptional poise.

'So can I,' Atkins thought, silently cheering himself on. He clenched his jaw, balled his fists, and tensed his muscles like a cheetah ready to pounce. He noticed Lu Ke's gaze—so focused and powerful from behind his helmet—as he carefully read the defense, but Atkins remained unfazed. 'Execute the play.' That was the only thought in his mind. He would meet any change with his own unchanging plan: disrupt the offense before Lu Ke could throw. He had done it once, and he was determined to do it again.

Then, Atkins watched as Lu Ke slowly bent down in the Shotgun Formation, hands ready for the ball. He seemed to be set. Atkins pushed all distracting thoughts from his mind, his gaze locked on Lu Ke's hands. Amidst the deafening roar, Lu Ke looked like he was about to call for the snap, but in the next second, he stood straight up again.

The tension, which had stretched to its breaking point, suddenly snapped. This meant Lu Ke was changing the play.

Atkins couldn't help but adjust his stance. His muscles ached after being wound so tight, but his concentration didn't waver as he listened intently to Lu Ke's audible: "Green 23! Green 23! Green 23!"

He repeated the same call three or four times, making sure every player on offense heard it. Then, Lu Ke took a few steps back—but not too many. The Shotgun Formation shifted into a Pistol Formation, and Lynch immediately stepped up to Lu Ke's side.

Atkins's right foot dug into the turf, tapping the ground like a revving motorcycle engine as he began to build momentum. Lu Ke's voice cut through the air, "Set, hut, hu... T!"

That was the signal!

BANG. Atkins exploded off the line. He shot forward like a swordfish leaping from the water, dipping his shoulder and extending his hands to bat away the Offense Line players and rip open a gap. But a sharp TWEET TWEET TWEET of a whistle cut through the air. Atkins slammed on the brakes, but his momentum was too great, and he stumbled forward.

It was only then that Atkins realized: the Offense Line players hadn't moved at all.

What did that mean? He'd jumped offsides.

This was what was known as moving early. It occurs when a player crosses the line of scrimmage before the center officially snaps the ball, starting their offensive or defensive action prematurely. It's the same principle as jumping the gun in a track race.

On that play, Lu Ke's snap count didn't seem complicated, continuing his usual crisp and decisive style. But in reality, there was a trick hidden in his cadence: the offense never snapped the ball, but a defensive player moved. Penalty.

"Dammit!" Atkins cursed viciously. He had been so focused, so hyped up, that he'd become too eager and failed to recognize the trap hidden in Lu Ke's cadence. He had walked right into it like an idiot.

Sure enough, after a brief consultation with no disagreement, the referee switched on his microphone and announced the penalty to the stadium. "Offsides, defense, number ninety-seven. Five-yard penalty. Automatic first down for the offense."

Since the San Francisco 49ers had only needed three yards to convert, the five-yard penalty automatically gave them a first down. They were now at the twenty-three-yard line.

Atkins glanced at Lu Ke and met his focused, sharp gaze. A head-on collision. In their opening clashes, Atkins had managed one sack and forced one hurried throw. In return, Lu Ke had drawn an offsides penalty and advanced his team to the edge of the End Zone.

The two of them were about evenly matched.

Atkins clenched his fists hard. The frustration only fueled his fighting spirit, which now burned even brighter. He let out a ferocious roar, "RAAAGH!" It was both a challenge to his opponent and a way to fire himself up.

But Lu Ke was unfazed. He withdrew his gaze and gathered his teammates once more.

That had been a premeditated attempt to draw them offsides. Lu Ke had sensed Atkins's tension and cleverly exploited his weakness. If it had failed, there was no loss; he would have simply run a normal play. But since it succeeded, he earned a first down without a fight and could now organize his red zone offense—

Just like what had just happened.