American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

"Alright," Li Wei said, nodding as he looked down at Chen Haisheng on the floor. "You should be able to defeat that Marcos guy now."

Chen Haisheng had been Lily’s driver for a week, and for that entire week, Li Wei had been putting him through special training.

And his progress over the week was nothing short of massive.

Chen Haisheng came from a Southern Fist background, a traditional martial arts path. But the moment he put on boxing gloves, he was a complete amateur. His fighting skills were purely at an enthusiast’s level; he had basically been bulldozing his way through opponents on the strength of his hard-earned muscle alone.

Li Wei was now teaching him the Knight Fighting Art through three hours of live sparring each day, allowing him to put his learning into practice and break some of his bad habits.

If he threw a punch without keeping his other hand up to guard, he got hit.

If his footwork was off and his power delivery was weak, he got hit.

If his eyes darted away during sparring, he got hit.

Normally, Chen Haisheng should have been completely exhausted in under an hour of such high-intensity sparring. However, Li Wei’s Knight’s Aura - First Sequence (silver) was in effect. As an ally targeted by Li Wei, Chen Haisheng constantly benefited from the aura’s buff, which nourished not only his stamina but his nerves as well.

Take a punch from Li Wei: HP -1.

Aura takes effect: HP +0.05, +0.05...

In a way, Li Wei’s fists were like being dipped in iodine—he was disinfecting his opponent with every punch.

Finally, after a week of intense training, Li Wei felt that while Chen Haisheng still had plenty of flaws, he would have no problem winning an amateur championship.

As for whether he wanted to continue down the path of a professional fighter or do something else, Li Wei, frankly, didn’t much care.

After today’s training session, Li Wei headed to the locker room to change. He was on his way to New Jersey, right next to New York.

He had already chosen his classes at Yale. The School of Management had no major objections, but his schedule still conflicted with the Giants’ training sessions.

By the time he had showered, changed, and walked out the door, his uncle and agent, Don Quixote, was already waiting outside in a Cadillac Escalade.

"I really think I could’ve gone by myself," Li Wei said with a smile as he got into the back seat. "Why are you tagging along?"

"Of course I am," Don Quixote said, full of righteous confidence. "We’re going there to argue. What if they take advantage of you when I’m not around?"

"Huh?" Li Wei paused, confused. "You think they’ll disagree? I already talked all this over with John Mara."

"I know that, of course," Don Quixote said, his eyes glinting with a capitalist’s gleam. "But the practical problems are clear. You need free time, which means you can’t use many of the Giants’ team benefits, and you’ll have to travel to games on your own. That’s precisely why we’re going."

"So?"

"So we’re going to get you a fucking private jet, kid!"

Li Wei was sure Don Quixote was joking. A private jet that could accommodate his height would cost over 100 million USD. He’d have to be crazy to buy something so useless to him at this stage.

But Don Quixote was serious. At least, he looked serious.

「East Rutherford, New Jersey. The Giants Training Center.」

Don Quixote led Li Wei as he knocked, full of swagger, on the office door of team owner John Mara. As expected, head coach Brian Daboll was there as well.

After a few pleasantries, Don Quixote, the agent, placed Li Wei’s schedule on the desk. "John, Brian, my client’s classes at Yale University are all set. To accommodate his academics, he needs to be in New Haven for class from Monday to Wednesday. He can only be here for full-day team training on Thursdays and Fridays. On Saturdays, he’ll travel for away games or go straight to MetLife Stadium to prepare for the Sunday game."

"Hmm..." John Mara’s brow furrowed. "So?"

"Since Li Wei can’t access the team facility’s physical therapy, catered nutritional meals, or professional recovery equipment from Monday to Wednesday, and considering the commute between Yale and New Jersey," Don Quixote said, pulling out a chair and crossing his hands, "we need the Giants to fund an annual private jet service for Li Wei’s travel between school and away games. This is for the sake of his safety and competitive form. We also need you to cover the expenses for a personal physical therapist."

John Mara immediately shook his head, rejecting the proposal without a moment’s hesitation. "That’s impossible, Don Quixote. It’s not even about the money."

"It’s not that I don’t want to pay. It’s the NFL’s collective bargaining agreement," he said, tapping his finger on the desk in a firm rebuttal. "If a team provides a specific player with perks like a private jet or extra living and medical expenses, the league office will review it. It will, without a doubt, be classified as an undeclared benefit and count directly against our salary cap."

"And our salary cap is already in jeopardy. To pay ’Mr. 200 Million USD,’ we even had to cut compensation for some of our veteran defensive players."

Mara sighed and continued, "If we trigger a violation, we’ll not only have to go through a protracted battle with the players’ union, but the team will also face massive fines and could even be stripped of draft picks."

"Besides, from a team management perspective, a rookie taking a private jet to away games instead of traveling with the team... that’s too flashy in the NFL. It would make managing the locker room very difficult for Brian."

"I can make one concession: I’ll allow Li Wei to travel to away games separately from the team. But all arrangements and expenses must be handled by you. The team cannot provide any financial support whatsoever."

John Mara’s argument seemed perfectly reasonable, but Don Quixote wasn’t buying it for a second. Having worked in finance for over a decade, he knew all the tricks people like John Mara used.

He instantly shifted into combat mode, shot to his feet, and raised his voice. "John! You knew his academic situation when you made your decision on draft day! Your data analytics and marketing departments are fully aware of my client’s dazzling preseason performance and the massive boost he brought to your numbers. Do you really think making him squeeze onto a commercial flight on Saturday, or drive through the night for hours to get to a game, is the right way to treat your core franchise Quarterback?"

For the next thirty minutes, Don Quixote put his skills as a financier and an agent on full display. He didn’t just argue from the standpoint of Li Wei’s commercial value; he also pointed out several endorsement deals the Giants had landed specifically because of Li Wei’s preseason performance metrics.

He went on to list the Giants’ abysmal preseason stats from the past decade, ruthlessly highlighting the chaos caused by the team’s backup defensive unit during games. He even started citing gray-area cases where other teams used commercial contracts to circumvent the salary cap.

Throughout this, Coach Daboll sat silently to one side. After all, his job was to manage tactics and the games themselves; issues involving contracts and the salary cap were outside his purview.

Meanwhile, Li Wei only appeared to be fiddling with his phone. In reality, he was watching the faint glow of the [Ring of Smooth Success] on his hand.

"Alright! Stop it, Don Quixote! My ears are going to go deaf!"

Mara held up a hand, cutting off the argument. "I’m a cancer patient, Don Quixote. Please, have some consideration for a sick man’s energy. There’s no precedent for this, but I’ll figure something out. I’ll have the legal and finance departments meet to find a compliant method that won’t trigger the salary cap provisions. Or maybe we can arrange a commercial endorsement through our internal network of sponsors to cover the cost. Until the first away game, you’ll have to handle your own commute."

Despite Mara’s words, a victorious smile spread across Don Quixote’s face.

"Deal. I look forward to hearing the good news, John." With that, he and a now-standing Li Wei turned and left the office without a single wasted motion.

「A few hours later, in the team locker room.」

Daboll gathered all the players to announce the detailed schedule and training plan for the upcoming week. With the preseason over, they were about to kick off a regular season that would last over three months.

With the addition of a monster like Li Wei this year, the team’s entire playbook had to be overhauled. Many of the strategies were now designed around him, but—

"Coach," a backup linebacker said, looking at the screen, the first to voice the question on everyone’s mind. "Why isn’t Li Wei’s name on any of the training or meeting schedules for Monday through Wednesday? Is he injured?"

Daboll glanced around the locker room, saw the looks of doubt and confusion on most of the players’ faces, and had no choice but to explain. "Li Wei is still an active student at Yale University. After a comprehensive evaluation and with approval from management and the coaching staff, he will be following a special schedule."

He scanned the room before continuing, "He’ll be at school completing his coursework from Monday to Wednesday. He’ll rejoin the team for tactical drills and scrimmages on Thursdays and Fridays, and he’ll play in the games on weekends as scheduled."

The explanation immediately sent a low murmur of discontent through the locker room.

Even though everyone had witnessed Li Wei’s preseason performance, this blatant display of privilege was still a bitter pill to swallow for players who worked their asses off every day, took special supplements for training, and endured the constant risk of concussions and torn muscles.

"Fuck! What is this?" a defensive player couldn’t help but blurt out. "Is this a Five Guys? We’re letting a college kid play for us part-time? Does he think he’s getting paid ten bucks an hour?"

"What the hell? Is the NFL just his extracurricular activity now?"

Daboll looked at his disgruntled players and thought, ’It’s a good thing I didn’t tell them the owner is trying to figure out how to reimburse Li Wei for an annual private jet membership worth millions of dollars. If they knew that, they’d really flip out.’

Just as he was about to quell the rising discontent, hoping to prevent it from turning into outright ostracism of Li Wei in the locker room, a massive figure rose from in front of a locker.

Dexter Lawrence tossed aside the towel in his hand and looked at Coach Daboll.