Early Friday morning, the parking lot of New Rochelle Central High School.
The Wolves players got out of their cars in twos and threes.
They carried their equipment bags, not a trace of tension on their faces; instead, they looked perfectly at ease.
Because they were playing at home, they were like kings about to set foot on their own domain.
The Wolves' field layout was slightly different from East River High School's.
Because there weren't as many spectator seats, the overall field was a bit smaller.
More than eighty people chatted and laughed as they noisily made their way toward the locker room, preparing to start the final morning practice before the game.
Inside the locker room.
A few defensive players gathered around Bei Wen, nudging him with their elbows.
"Hey, Bei Wen, I heard your car was the only one that got smashed up yesterday?" a teammate asked gleefully as he pulled off his T-shirt, revealing solid muscle.
Bei Wen was bent over, fiddling with his gear. Hearing this, he gave an "Mm" without looking up.
"None of your cars got hit?"
"That's right," another player said, taking out his pads from his locker.
"As soon as we heard you took people to mess with their teammates' families, we knew they'd definitely retaliate."
"So we parked our cars in our garages long ago."
He paused and patted Bei Wen's shoulder. "You should've seen this coming."
Another teammate chimed in, "I thought they'd come straight for our locker room."
Bei Wen finally finished wrapping his tape. He looked up, his face full of a smug grin.
"Over the last couple days, I even specifically arranged for a few eleventh-graders to watch the locker room, hoping to catch video of them sneaking in to cause damage."
"Then report them directly and get their whole team suspended."
Hearing Bei Wen's words, several surrounding teammates' faces showed traces of disapproval.
"Bei Wen, you should know the rules of Rivalry Week."
"Besides, nobody on our team is a snitch."
Bei Wen laughed without a care. He took an energy drink from his locker, cracked the tab, and chugged it.
"If we can win this game more easily, wouldn't you all be happy?"
"We do this stuff during Rivalry Week to mess with their heads, don't we?"
"But I didn't expect them to be such cowards. Smash a car and call it done."
He paused, leaned slightly forward, and lowered his voice as if sharing a monumental secret, a sly smile crossing his face.
"Besides, it's not that I was careless and left my car outside." He tapped his temple with a finger.
"I'm not an idiot. The coach said we had to leave them an outlet to vent."
He leaned back against his locker and spread his hands, speaking in a tone that said this was true brilliance.
"Let them get that anger out. Otherwise, if they fight us tooth and nail on the field, that's troublesome too."
"Hahahaha." The surrounding teammates burst into knowing laughter.
"Then why did you go after their families? That's really crossing a line." One teammate still couldn't help asking.
The grin on Bei Wen's face grew even wider. He leaned in and lowered his voice.
"To tell the truth, someone on their team gave me that Asian kid's home address."
"Otherwise, how would I know that kind of information?"
"But the coach can't know about this," a teammate hurriedly reminded him in a hushed voice.
Bei Wen snorted disdainfully, his face full of smugness.
"What are you afraid of? It's not like anything major happened."
"At the very least, I broke that Asian kid's mentality."
He bared his teeth in a cruel smile.
"A rookie like him, once he gets hot-headed, he'll be a headless fly on the field."
"He won't even know which direction the hits are coming from."
"Today, if he dares to step onto the field."
Another teammate wearing defensive back gear picked up the thread.
As he spoke, he snapped his helmet shut with a bang.
His voice sounded extremely muffled through the face mask.
"We'll focus on taking care of him."
"Just find a chance to break his ribs, and it'll be done."
After hearing this, the smile on Bei Wen's face became even more savage.
"Take out one, and they're all finished."
"Look at how cowardly they are. All they dared to do was smash a car."
"A bunch of f*cking pus*ies."
Right then, the locker room door was violently kicked open from the outside with a bang.
The enormous sound instantly cut short all laughter and conversation.
The Wolves' head coach, a large, muscular Black man, blocked the doorway like a berserk wild elephant.
He didn't speak; he only used those bloodshot eyes
to sweep over every single player's face in the locker room, one by one.
That gaze was ice-cold and murderous, causing the formerly noisy locker room to fall instantly silent—not even the sound of breathing could be heard.
"Today," he finally spoke.
"is our chance to wash away our shame."
"Every single one of you better harden the f*ck up!"
He walked to the defensive group's area, suddenly stopped, and pointed his index finger almost right at Bei Wen's face.
"Especially you!"
His voice suddenly spiked into a roar.
"I don't care what methods you use! Hit! Bite! Break bones!"
"Everyone better bring me the determination to get carried off the field today!"
"You hear me?!"
"Yes sir!" The players were swept up in his frenzied intensity and roared back.
A cruel smile appeared on the coach's face as he slowly swept his gaze over everyone.
"Run them over."
He paused, mustering all his strength.
"Hunt! Kill! Feast!"
"Go Wolf!!"
In this frenzied atmosphere, everyone seemed to have been injected with stimulants, sprinting out of the locker room.
No one dared to linger in the locker room while the coach was in this state.
Even Bei Wen, who loved sucking up to the coach the most, had a grave expression now, grabbing his helmet and quickly running out.
In the short player tunnel, the stadium lights shone from the far end, stretching everyone's shadows long.
However, near the exit, Bei Wen discovered that everyone was crowded at the end of the tunnel, motionless.
The coach, following at the rear of the group, saw this and exploded with rage.
"F*ck!"
"What the f*ck are you doing! Having a party jammed up in here?!"
Instead, the players in front looked back at him with disbelief.
"Coach, on our field... there seems to be something."
"Some white lines that aren't yard lines."
"We don't know what's going on."
The Wolves' coach shoved aside the players blocking him, squeezed to the tunnel entrance, and looked toward the field.
But because the angle was too low, he couldn't make out what those extra white lines were at all.
Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted up the stairs leading to the stands.
When he finally stood on the bleachers, the muscles in his face instantly went taut.
At this moment, on the impeccably trimmed grass of the field, several enormous white words drawn with powdered lime were laid out before his eyes.
"wolves su*k Titan d*ck"
A heaven-shaking roar erupted from his chest, echoing through the entire empty stadium.
"F*CK!!!!!!!!"
A friend's book; take a look if you're bored.