The Jets proved their superiority against the Steelers, punching their ticket to the AFC Championship Game.
Waiting for them was the second-seeded Indianapolis Colts, led by Peyton Manning. Because of their record, the Jets would host the game at Giants Stadium on January 21st.
New York was electric. The Jets had never looked stronger, and fans dared to dream of a second Super Bowl championship.
---
The game began under the freezing January sky.
Zhao Dong lined up at both wide receiver and tight end for the offense, scoring four touchdowns. On defense, playing middle linebacker, he notched three sacks. His dominance was undeniable.
But Peyton Manning was playing the game of his life. He threw for five touchdowns and racked up 326 yards, far exceeding his season average.
The clash was a slugfest. Neither team budged. With 20 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the scoreboard read 51–51.
The Jets had possession and called a timeout.
---
In the broadcast booth, Russell Neveda leaned forward nervously.
"Our quarterback just isn't enough. Not a single quality deep ball all game. All four of Zhao Dong's touchdowns came off brute-force rushes. If we had a quarterback like Peyton Manning, we'd have this wrapped up in two quarters."
His partner, Wells Michael, sighed.
"Welin Paul has only thrown for 165 yards tonight. That's way too low. Eighty percent of our offense has been on the ground. If Zhao Dong hadn't gone nuclear, we wouldn't even be tied right now. Honestly, this offseason, the Jets need to find a real quarterback."
Russell tilted his head, thoughtful. "Maybe… maybe we let Zhao Dong try. His passing mechanics are better than people realize. We haven't seen his deep ball, but his short and mid-range throws? Those are crisp."
Wells blinked, then nodded slowly. "You know what, Russell—you might be right. If Zhao Dong can legitimately play quarterback, it changes everything. Star QBs are almost impossible to get. But finding quality receivers, tight ends, or backs? That's easier."
---
The timeout ended.
The Jets came out in an I-formation at their own 20-yard line. Zhao Dong lined up at halfback, just behind Welin Paul.
Edward's plan was simple: lean on Zhao Dong's strength and endurance. Pound the rock one last time. If it didn't work, they'd take their chances in overtime.
Across the line, the Colts adjusted quickly. Their middle linebacker shifted the defense right, anticipating Zhao Dong would charge that way. They brought the safety up and swapped their strong-side and weak-side linebackers.
It left them a little soft against the tight end, but there was no other option.
---
"Attack!"
Welin Paul's bark split the cold air.
Thor McGill took the snap, flipped it to Paul, and the line erupted in collisions. Helmets cracked, pads smacked, and the trenches groaned under the weight of two teams colliding with their season on the line.
Paul handed the ball to Zhao Dong. The fullback barreled left, and Zhao Dong followed, charging into the teeth of the defense.
The Colts' line shifted perfectly, sealing the left side.
But then—opportunity.
The Jets' tight end demolished the weak-side linebacker and burst free into open field. In front of him stretched at least 15 yards of untouched space.
Zhao Dong saw it instantly. Instead of forcing the run, he cocked his arm and fired a sharp forward pass.
The tight end snagged it clean and bolted upfield.
The Colts' secondary screamed across the field in desperation. The crowd roared to its feet.
"Thirty yards… thirty-five yards…!" Russell Neveda shouted, voice cracking.
---
Zhao Dong sprinted in pursuit, clearing bodies as he ran. Ten yards ahead, the tight end was swallowed by the defense—one cornerback hit him square, staggering him, but not bringing him down.
More defenders swarmed.
The tight end stumbled, fighting for balance. He couldn't go much further.
The Jets' tight end stayed calm under pressure. He juked past one tackler, but more defenders closed in, sealing his lane.
At that critical moment, he spotted a teammate waving for the ball several yards to the left. Without hesitation, he flipped it with a clean backward lateral.
"Beautiful! Zhao Dong's got it!" Russell Neveda's voice cracked with excitement. "He's accelerating—blazing fast! He just shook off two defenders—ran right through another cornerback! Forty yards… fifty yards… sixty-five yards!"
The Colts were caught completely off guard. Most of their defense had collapsed on the tight end. Zhao Dong's sudden takeover ripped their coverage apart. He barreled through two lines of defense with raw power and speed. Behind him, there was nothing but daylight.
Now fully unleashed, Zhao Dong's speed surged—boosted by his raw physical gifts. He tore downfield like a runaway freight train.
"He's at the 80-yard mark! Zhao Dong's in the red zone!" Russell screamed, adrenaline blasting through his voice.
The crowd erupted. The roar inside Giants Stadium thundered like a tidal wave, shaking through New York City.
The last Colts safety came flying from the wing. For a split second, he remembered the brutal collision that had killed the "Man-Eating Shark." Fear gripped his chest—but with no choice, he launched himself at Zhao Dong.
"Bang!"
The safety's hit clipped Zhao Dong's legs, knocking his feet out. But Zhao Dong's momentum was unstoppable. His massive frame stumbled forward, crooked and off balance, yet his sheer inertia carried him three steps ahead.
Then, somehow, he steadied himself. And accelerated again.
The safety rolled across the turf helplessly, eyes wide as he watched Zhao Dong thunder past. The Colts' remaining defenders chased desperately, but the closest man was still five yards away.
Too late.
"Ahhhh!"
Zhao Dong pounded into the end zone and spiked the ball into the turf. The stadium exploded. Jets fans roared like madmen. The sound was deafening—like a tsunami crashing down.
---
"We did it! Zhao Dong scores with seconds left on the clock!" Russell Neveda bellowed, his voice breaking. "For the first time in 35 years, the New York Jets are going back to the Super Bowl!"
"What a run! What a touchdown!" Wells Michael shouted. "Under Zhao Dong's leadership, the Jets just punched their ticket to the biggest stage in sports—the Super Bowl!"
On the Jets' sideline, owner Robert Wood Johnson, GM Philip, head coach Edward, the staff, and every player celebrated wildly, hugging and screaming like the fans in the stands.
That night, the Jets partied until 3 a.m. The city of New York was alive.
---
The next day, Zhao Dong pulled up his system stats.
Skill Levels:
Tactical Awareness – 90
Receiving – 90
Long Pass – 65
Mid Pass – 90
Short Pass – 95
Evasion – 88
Vision & Reading – 95
Ball Security – 95
Rushing – 95
Power Running – 80
Passing Ability – 90
Fakes – 80
Route Running – 90
Rush Defense (Run Interceptions) – 90
Pass Defense (Pass Interceptions) – 92
Hit-Stick Tackling – 95
Return Ability – 95
In just one season, almost every category had reached elite level.
Position Ratings:
Linebacker: 93 (Defense)
Tight End: 90 (Offense)
Running Back: 91 (Offense)
Returner: 92 (Special Teams)
Wide Receiver: 93 (Offense)
With his unmatched athleticism and a season of real game reps, Zhao Dong's growth had been astronomical. The NFL truly was a league where raw talent ruled.
His "Savage Collision" talent had already triggered 232 successful knockdowns, even though he'd been forced to sit out games due to injury-causing hits.
---
The Super Bowl was set for February 4th. The matchup: New York Jets (AFC East) vs Carolina Panthers (NFC South).
The venue had been chosen years in advance. As always, neither team had the luxury of a home stadium.
Super Bowl Sunday was more than just a game—it was the most-watched television event in America, with food sales rivaled only by Thanksgiving.
On February 1st, the league announced the Regular Season MVP. The honor went to Tom Brady, the NFL's golden boy, despite the Patriots missing the playoffs again.
Unlike the NBA, the NFL's MVP wasn't the top prize. That belonged to the Super Bowl MVP, the ultimate crown. Brady, without a Super Bowl berth, was already out of the running.
In Zhao Dong's "last life," Brady had led the Patriots past the Panthers to claim that crown. But this time, fate was different.
---
As the big game approached, media frenzy consumed the country. The Jets were riding a magical season, but the Panthers were no joke.
Carolina had no single superstar at Zhao Dong's level—but their roster was stacked with balance and depth. Analysts across the nation poured over film and stats.
Most experts favored the Panthers.
But in New York, the story was different. Local media and fans rallied behind Zhao Dong and the Jets, convinced this was their year.
---
(End of Chapter)
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