Punching Strip Self-Recovery
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
His heart pounded like it was about to burst.
The Gift glowing in his vision pulsed brilliantly in rhythm, pumping him full of adrenaline.
Right in front of him, an opposing player ran with the ball clutched in his arms. The distance between them shrank until it felt like he could reach out and touch him.
Tap-tap-tap-tap!
"Hsss, hoo. Hsss, hoo."
Ragged breathing — but not his own.
Just like when he ran track. He could feel his opponent driving himself to the limit, and he used that desperate gasping as fuel, driving even more power into his legs.
Not enough. Faster.
He could have told himself he was close enough — but this wasn't enough. I have to flip the whole atmosphere!
A fierce ego gnawed at his skull. An ordinary, forgettable play simply didn't satisfy him.
What he needed right now was a single move — one stroke that could erase Mark's injury and Tony's mistake in an instant. The kind of play that overturned everything and crushed it to pieces!
"Hnngh!"
He drew in his final breath. The moment the Red Line's trajectory stretched from his body to the opposing player—
There it is!
A sloppy grip, thrown together in the panic of a sprint. And in the gap between those fingers, a wide-open seam.
It went without saying: running with nothing in his hands was far freer than running with a ball. So he clenched his fist. From below, sweeping upward.
An uppercut!
THWANG!
The fist slipped perfectly through the gap, and with a jarring crack of noise, the ball sailed into the air.
But whether it was the ball's odd shape or sheer chance, it flew higher and farther than he'd expected — a trajectory even the man who'd struck it couldn't have predicted.
His Gift, however, was already speaking to him. Follow the line.
FWOOSH!
Tracing the line as it bent in an instant, he tore off a change of direction so violent it felt like his muscles would rip apart. If the quest reward hadn't raised his durability, the move would have guaranteed an injury. But in the end — it worked.
Ziiiing— FWAAAANG!!
The suppressed power exploded out of him, and he simply ran, following nothing but the line. Then, the moment he looked up at the sky—
There it was. The ball, falling straight toward him.
Thup.
As natural as catching a pass, the ball settled into his hands. He tucked it against his body, squared his form mid-stride. What was left now?
"Huuuah!"
Run! With everything he had!
The instant Tony Garcia's pass was intercepted, Steve, Derby's head coach, confirmed his strategy had landed and clenched his fist in triumph. That's it...!
It had been a psychological gambit built entirely on scouting data. The result of agonizing over which hand to throw in a game of rock-paper-scissors. Wichita North's shaky backup quarterback, Tony Garcia, had crumbled under pressure exactly as predicted, fumbled around in a panic, and thrown the worst pass of his life.
"Cover! Get on your cover! Open a lane for Hopkins to run!"
Steve barked, his voice raw. The field was empty. Nobody stood anywhere near Hopkins. And Hopkins was the fastest player Derby had. It was, quite literally, a perfect interception situation!
Twenty yards to the end zone!
The decisive moment to avenge that humiliating opening-game defeat had finally arrived. Steve threw his mouth wide open, ready to scream with the joy surging in his chest.
"Touch...!"
It was the very instant the cry of victory was about to burst free.
Swhoosh—.
From the corner of Steve's vision, something ominous flashed past like a bolt of lightning.
A faint crimson afterimage. No — a person.
A red shadow crossing the field at an unbelievable, eye-doubting speed, closing in like a beast on the hunt.
"Redline!"
There had been no one anywhere near him. How could he possibly have closed that distance already? Impossible!
But reality was merciless. Watching that No. 21 jersey bearing down on Hopkins with impossible speed, Steve's vision went white.
"Hopkins! Watch your side! Redline's on you! Shake him off!!"
However loud he screamed from the bench, the voice wouldn't reach. No — even if it had, would anything have changed?
O-okay. It's fine. We ate up plenty of yardage anyway. Even if he gets tackled here, we keep possession.
The ball was now at the opponent's ten-yard line. At this point, Hopkins had done more than his share—
WHAM!
"Wha...?"
But in the very next moment, Steve witnessed the most surreal scene of his entire football life.
It wasn't a tackle. What he'd vaguely glimpsed was Jaehyuk's fist, driving upward from below. Redline 21 hadn't merely attempted a strip — he'd punched the ball clean out of the defender's grasp.
And he hadn't stopped there. The punched ball rocketed skyward, then curved as if following a rehearsed script, dropping softly into the arms of Jaehyuk as he sprinted back the other way.
"......"
Steve stared blankly at the whole sequence. What is this? What did I just see? He uppercut the ball out of the defender's arms... and then ran downfield and caught it himself?
A punching strip... self-recovery? Something like that is... possible?
Steve's hands and feet went cold. Meanwhile, Redline 21 was carving through the shattered field as if it were his own living room. Look at that. Strategy? Tactics? Playbooks? What good are any of those things against that man?
"Ha... hahaha, hahahahaha......"
Look at that impossible madness. Redline 21 wasn't just fast. Insane instincts. Insane sense. Insane discipline. Speed wasn't the whole of it. No — the man was... 'football' itself.
"......"
"......"
Derby's bench sat in dead silence, watching nothing but the crimson devil tearing down the field. Even in Derby's own stands, countless fans could only clutch their heads and gape at the unbelievable spectacle.
Somehow, though, Steve found he no longer cared. Defeat? What did that matter now? He was standing in the middle of history — and even if it was the defeat of a third-rate extra, he would gladly bear it.
"Fuck me. He's insane. That little Oriental kid... the day he plays in the NFL — the biggest gathering of monsters on the planet."
Thump! Thump! Thump!
It was the moment Steve began to look forward to it more than anyone alive.
"Touchdown."
Jaehyuk said it himself upon reaching the end zone, on behalf of the referee who was still standing there in a daze. A single, quiet word — but the shockwave it sent out was seismic.
"WAAAAAAHHH!!!"
"What the hell did we just watch?!"
"That's a top-ten high school football highlight of ALL TIME!"
"Top ten? Don't make me laugh! That's number one as far as I'm concerned, and I watched it with my own eyes!"
"REDDDLINE!! Sign my ball! Please sign it and throw it over!"
"KYAAAAAH!"
Shock, cries of disbelief, and feverish euphoria erupted together in a roar like a crashing wave. The stadium already drew ever-growing crowds of fans who came to see the rising star in person — and before that audience, he had delivered an utterly dominant performance. And the situation itself couldn't have been more dramatic.
"REDLINE 21!!!!! He has declared the end of this impossible rally!!"
"Derby's dramatic comeback interception — born the moment Wichita North's starting quarterback Mark Hamilton went down with an injury — has been overturned AGAIN by Redline 21! A phenomenal, no — a downright UNBELIEVABLE display!"
"Ryan! We weren't watching CGI, were we? Is it even legal to see a play like this in high school football? Answer me! Somebody say something!"
"Ahem! Three years calling high school football broadcasts! And I say those three years were all for this single moment, and I would not be exaggerating one bit, nooo sir!"
The broadcast team had practically exploded. The two commentators had been restless from the moment of the interception, shot to their feet the instant Jaehyuk closed the gap at blistering speed, and by the time he punched the ball free and caught it himself, they had descended into pure, raving commentary.
It was incoherent to any listener — but the online viewers watching along didn't mind at all. No, they were joining the madness.
GIVE US THE REPLAY ALREADYYYYY
Are the casters dead?? Died standing up?? REPLAY NOW plzwearebeggingahsurhnm;lg0b
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
The goosebumps won't stop! GO! HE WENT AND DID IT!
Behold the power of ancient Eastern mysticism! From today I'm studying Eastern philosophy!
Look at Hopkins just sitting there on the ground not getting up T_T_T_T_T
All hail Great Jaehyuk. All hail Great Jaehyuk. All hail Great Jaehyuk. All hail Great Jaehyuk. All hail Great Jaehyuk. All hail Great Jaehyuk.
SCREAMING WITH MY PANTS OFF!!!!!!!!!
And, as always — Jaehyuk's family, who had come to the stadium under the pretext of watching Eunbi's marching band perform, stood gazing blankly at the field. More precisely, they were gazing at their son and brother, surrounded by his teammates and getting pummeled in a joyous beating.
"At this point, you've got to admit it, right?"
"Honey, you still haven't admitted it? I admitted it ages ago."
"He's really going all the way, isn't he?"
Minhyuk, half-listening to the couple's conversation, was busy snapping photos and videos on his smartphone regardless. He'd been recording the entire game, and by sheer luck he'd captured this miraculous play.
Gotta post this on Eunbi's social media right now!
Jaehyuk had become something like an idol to both Eunbi and Minhyuk. Especially for Minhyuk — even though he attended a different school, more and more people were recognizing him. Considering this game too, wouldn't the whole student body know he was Jaehyuk's little brother soon? Thanks to that, kids from his usual hangout crowd had started approaching him every single day, trying to get close.
The school doesn't matter — the big picture does!
Minhyuk was drawing a grand blueprint. A performance like that meant Jaehyuk would never stop here. The NFL was all but guaranteed. Which meant the foundation had to be supported by the whole family — Minhyuk included.
Because all Jaehyuk knows how to do is run...
College recruitment, diet plans, training schedules — the works. He was seriously planning to become Jaehyuk's manager, and he intended to start studying for it today, this very moment. He would handle everything off the field himself. Of course, they'd hire a professional agency too!
Late that night, in the scouting room of one of the prestigious universities of the Southeastern Conference (SEC). Screens lined every wall, endlessly playing footage of the nation's top prospects, and veteran scout David Johnson rubbed his coffee-ravaged eyes and flipped through his tablet. Prospect databases, game stats, scouting reports — it was work so repetitive it bordered on soul-crushing.
For five-star quarterbacks, Texas is still the—
Then his personal smartphone began buzzing furiously. Not a simple notification. It felt like a dozen messages pouring in all at once.
It was his group chats, mostly linked to lower-level scouts and informants across the country.
"Haah, shit. Now what?"
Dave grumbled irritably and picked up the phone. Normally he'd ignore it, but this many alerts firing simultaneously was rare. He opened a few of the chats to find them flooded with links to the same video and messages running hot with excitement.
Insane play just dropped lololol WATCH IT. NOW.
Is this real? Not edited?
It's a KSHSAA Football game... there was a MONSTER like this out there?
He's an RB and he's Asian?? Name's Kim Jaehyuk?
They're calling him Redline 21 — and honestly, after watching the clip, he's earned it
"KSHSAA... that's Kansas? Kim Jaehyuk?"
The name alone was unusual. A name in that format — the kid had to be Korean, right? Dave frowned. Kansas wasn't a football wasteland, but it wasn't exactly a region that reliably produced elite prospects either. And an Asian running back, on top of that?
He tapped the first link with skeptical eyes. A slightly shaky clip, clearly shot by an amateur — someone filming a broadcast of a high school game off their screen, by the look of it.
It opened on what seemed like an ordinary interception.
What am I supposed to be watching here? — and that was the exact moment a red uniform came sprinting across the corner of the frame at impossible speed.
Dave found himself leaning forward without meaning to. And then came what followed — a play he had never once seen in twenty years of scouting.
"What the...?"
A fist driving up under the ball as his man closed on the interceptor. The ball rocketing into empty air. And then him snatching that ball back out of the sky as if it had always been his, and simply tearing off down the field.
What am I even looking at? Is this football??
Dave rewound the video and played it again. And again. He watched it in slow motion. He zoomed in on specific frames. And the whole time, his eyes grew wider and wider, his mouth hanging slightly open.
"W-wait a second. Kim Jaehyuk? You said his name was Kim Jaehyuk......"
He immediately searched the prospect database on his tablet. What came up was Jaehyuk's empty, barren report.
"???"
A player putting up performances like that — with a report this empty? Dave let out a hollow laugh. He couldn't believe that a kid with that kind of potential had gone unnoticed until now.
He checked the other scouts' messages again. Shock, disbelief, and excitement. The clip was already spreading like wildfire.
I can't let him slip away.
His heart began pounding hard. Instinct. The veteran instinct honed over thousands of prospects was shouting at him, loud and clear: that kid is the real deal. He might just be the 'game changer' you've been waiting your whole career for.
David didn't hesitate. He opened his flight-search app on the spot. The fastest plane to Wichita. There was one leaving at dawn tomorrow — the first flight out.
"Damn it. Tomorrow's meetings — all of them — cancelled. Every last one."