"Lance?"
"Please wait a mont over there. The principal is on a call and will see you shortly."
The Black secretary sitting behind the dark brown desk gave a polite, businesslike smile, not even waiting for Lance's response before returning to her work.
Lance wasn't surprised. After all, he wasn't here to receive an award.
Even though this wasn't exactly a reprimand, today's eting was indeed about finding a solution.
Ten days ago, Lance had traveled through ti, from 2023 in China to 2016 in... Tuscaloosa. Despite his efforts, he couldn't figure out exactly where this city was on the North Arican continent.
Just after the ti travel, when he was still dazed and confused about what had happened—who he was, where he was—he heard a cry of "Robbery! Robbery!" A shadow flitted past his peripheral vision, and instinctively, his well-trained reflexes from cross-country running kicked in.
With a powerful push-off, he caught up with the robber in a few strides—
And tackled him.
Lance swore he had only tackled lightly, like swatting a fly, but the robber's arm, brittle like a dried-up branch in autumn, snapped with a "crack."
It actually broke... just like that.
Later, Lance found out that the body he had traveled into was trained in mixed martial arts. Not only was it taller and heavier than his original body, but it was also much stronger. Since he had just crossed over, he hadn't fully adjusted to this new body, and accidentally used too much force, leading to the... unfortunate outco.
But at the ti, standing in front of the University of Alabama Library, looking down at the robber writhing on the ground in agony like Loki after being pumled by the Hulk, Lance was utterly perplexed.
If he was confused, the bystanders going in and out of the library were even more so.
Then, an M-shaped balding old man with a sunburned face and sparkling eyes rushed out and grabbed Lance, his expression like that of an elder who had just discovered an extraordinary talent, ready to hand over a martial arts manual the next second. With tears in his eyes, he enthusiastically extended an invitation—
A sincere invitation for Lance to join the university's football team.
It took Lance a mont to understand that the "football" here was not the soccer he knew, but Arican football.
This was a whole new sport, lauded as the number one sport in North Arica, with the famous Super Bowl being the pinnacle of professional football.
Despite the offer, Lance politely declined.
Whether it was football or soccer, neither was relevant to Lance, a cross-country runner with no knowledge or interest in ball sports.
Originally, Lance thought that was the end of it, and he could finally take ti to digest the fact that he had traveled through ti and seriously consider how to make a fortune—
2016 was only a few years away from his life in 2023, leaving little ti to capitalize on the opportunity. If he missed out on nurous get-rich-quick chances, the advantage of ti travel would be minimal. So, how should he break through?
Initially, it seed like ti travel was a gift from the heavens, but upon further reflection, it felt more like a test of fate.
To his surprise, there was more to the story! The robber filed a lawsuit against the University of Alabama and Lance, claiming he had suffered excessive force on the university's grounds, resulting in injury. He demanded compensation for dical expenses and emotional distress.
With a sudden twist, the story took a different turn.
Just as Lance was worried about how to handle the legal issues in a foreign land, the University of Alabama offered their help: If Lance agreed to join the football team, the school would take care of the lawsuit.
And so, today's eting was arranged—
To discuss the details.
Moreover, there was another crucial reason that convinced Lance to agree to the eting.
A system, a "Football Training System," had appeared in his mind alongside his ti travel. Clearly, this was the perk of crossing over.
Football, again with the football! Lance tried to activate the system to see what it was about and decide his next steps. But the system only provided one prompt: "Join any football team to activate the system and receive a starter gift pack."
His hopes of getting sothing for nothing were instantly dashed.
Lance then used the internet to investigate the University of Alabama.
This was a legendary football school, the reigning champion of the national college championship. Over the past decade, they had been an undisputed powerhouse in the NCAA.
To catch the eye of such a football school's coach, coupled with the system's existence, made Lance wonder: Could it be that... he's actually a football genius?
Perhaps the key to breaking through and reaching the pinnacle of this new life lies in football? After serious consideration, Lance decided to give football a chance.
And that's why he was here.
After waiting a mont longer, with the principal still on the phone, another key figure entered.
Dressed in a shirt and slacks, but without the sharp, elegant deanor one might expect. Instead, the creases in his clothes and his flushed, sweaty face revealed his disheveled state. His round belly, like a waterlon, seed ready to burst out of his shirt at any mont, easily drawing the eye and distracting from everything else.
Lance couldn't help but worry that the poor button might pop off at any second.
anwhile, Burton-Burns wore a satisfied expression as he carefully sized up Lance again.
This was definitely a good prospect.
On the surface, he looked gentle and scholarly, with handso eyebrows and clear eyes. The refined and serene air between his brows was like the first rays of sunlight on a sumr morning shining on the sycamore trees, giving him an innocent, harmless appearance. His loose-fitting clothes hid his physique, revealing only his height and slight build, nothing particularly special. But he couldn't escape Burns' experienced eyes.
The precise asurents would require proper testing, but a rough estimate was already very promising:
6.1 feet (185 cm), about 216 pounds (98 kg).
To most people, this might seem a bit tall or a bit light, but to a professional, it was just right.
Perfect.
The explosiveness and agility Lance had shown when he caught the robber were top-tier, and his body was fully prepared—ready to go.
Of course, the tackling technique needed so work, or the robber wouldn't have ended up with a broken bone. But that was no big deal.
Burns was genuinely surprised.
This young man was practically born to play football, yet they had sohow missed out on such a talent. He could already envision him sprinting across the field, so he dug into the young man's background after returning—
Born in November 1995, a sophomore this year, practiced mixed martial arts all his life, had never played football before, and sohow slipped under the radar of every football school while applying. But his academic performance was stellar—a straight-A student already interning for his future career.
In hindsight, it wasn't so surprising.
Football hadn't gained much popularity within the Chinese community.
Moreover, in all sports, it's the sa—an arena where talent and ability are everything, where breaking through to the top is a one-in-a-million chance. Chinese parents still believe more in the security of a stable nine-to-five job, working diligently to build a life with their own hands.
Before him, Lance was like an uncut gem, waiting to shine with just a little polishing. Burns trusted his judgnt; he could hardly contain his excitent.
He rubbed his hands together and took a seat opposite Lance, the chair groaning under his weight as if ready to collapse at any mont, his flabby belly folding over itself. Then he gave a broad smile, much like a creepy uncle offering candy.
"Lance?"
But from the first word out of his mouth, it was clear he had done his howork.
For the generation of Asian immigrants born after 1995, the special thing was that schools encouraged students to use their original nas. There was no need to adopt an English na, allowing them to preserve their cultural heritage—but Lance preferred it this way.
And so, Le Wei beca "Lance."
Yet Burns got it right.
A small, pleasant surprise.
Burns grinned broadly after getting Lance's confirmation, his smile as wide as that of the Buddha, "There might have been so misunderstandings during our last eting. The situation was too rushed, so today, let's start fresh."
"Let introduce myself first."
"Burton-Burns, Assistant Head Coach of the Alabama Crimson Tide. I've been here for ten years and believe I'll continue working here."
"I love football!"
As he spoke, Burns couldn't help but get animated, clearly pouring all his passion into football.
"I'm serious when I say I believe you have extraordinary talent; you were born to play football. Your height, weight, acceleration, and agility—all these could make you shine on the football field."
"Your ability to control your body and anticipate your opponent's movents is an intangible
talent, sothing unseen that can change the ga. I noticed you used to practice mixed martial arts, but clearly, that doesn't showcase your abilities. Only football can let you unleash your full potential."
"You are a genius."
"Trust , you're a natural running back."
Hold on, there's a new term here.
Not understanding, Lance looked at Burns, "Running back? What's that? A defensive position?"
Burns: ... His smile gradually froze.
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