Alabama Calls
[Quest Complete]
[Reward: Strength increases]
[Strength: D5 → C2]
[Strength Grade C achieved: During a strength contest mid-game, Strength rises by 30% once per game.]
The game against Derby was over.
After a hard-fought battle, we walked away with a 21–10 victory.
Of the six games we'd played so far, this was the one that had pushed us into the deepest danger yet.
I had no idea whether Derby would make the playoffs as the second seed in our district, but I treated this as if it were the last time we'd ever face them and headed over to their bench to pay my respects.
"Redline!"
"Give us an autograph too!"
"Booooo! Get out of here!"
Cheers and jeers poured down from the Derby stands. Ignoring all of it, I went looking for the player who had stood out most on their side.
"Redline..."
When he noticed me approaching, his eyes wavered. He was a good-looking Black kid.
He could go pro as an actor, honestly.
Sorry to say it, but I've never been great at telling people of other races apart. So if even I was looking at a Black guy and thinking dang, he's handsome, that pretty much said it all.
"What's your name?"
"What? You didn't even know my name?"
He looked flustered.
Why would I know your name?
I just stood there in silence, and he seemed to wilt under the pressure before finally muttering,
"Steve Hopkins."
"Out of everyone I've faced so far, you've been the best. Consider that a compliment."
"You... you were a monster."
Was that a compliment?
I shrugged and moved on to find their head coach. That was when the shout came from behind me.
"We'll meet again next year, Redline!"
And when we did, I figured the result wouldn't be any different.
Because I'm the strongest in American football.
I didn't bother answering and went to find the opposing coach, who happened to be shaking hands with Sanders.
"Ah, Jaehyuk's here. Come say hello. This is Coach Steve of Derby."
"It's an honor, sir."
I gave a small bow, and Steve looked back at me with eyes full of complicated emotions.
"Kim Jaehyuk. Today's game, I swear... you left me speechless."
"You'll see something even greater."
"Haha, right. I'll look forward to it."
He said it like he was playing along with a joke, but there was genuine anticipation written on his face.
And I hadn't been joking, either.
Because every time I played a game, I was getting stronger in real time.
Ooh, nice.
Look at this ability.
I hadn't felt the benefits of my C-grade Durability yet, but I'd probably get to test the C-grade Strength effect in the very next game.
And that wasn't all. If I kept growing and eventually reached B grade, or even A-grade abilities, this would barely register as a warm-up.
For the record, my next quest was to win one playoff game, with the reward being another Durability increase.
Was the Gift trying to turn me into an indestructible fortress?
"Your next game is Wichita East, then."
"That's right. We'll need to win out the rest of our games to barely scrape into the wildcard spot."
"Good luck. We'll head out first."
"It was an honor, Mr. Sanders."
Sanders turned away, accepting Steve's deep, respectful bow.
"Let's go, Jaehyuk."
"I haven't finished my greetings yet."
"Is that so? Don't be late."
After that, I exchanged quick greetings with the opposing coaching staff and the rest of their players before heading out. One of them wanted to swap jerseys and another wanted an autograph, but I only scrawled a quick signature and moved on.
The jerseys belong to the football club's equipment, after all.
When I stepped outside the stadium to board the bus, a massive crowd was waiting.
Back at the season opener, most of the spectators had been players' families. Now the stands were packed with locals — and even people who'd traveled in from out of town.
"It's Redline!"
"Redline21! Woooaaah! You absolutely killed it out there today!"
"Waaaah! Redline! Can I get your autograph, please!"
Popular today, aren't we?
I figured it was mostly because of that last touchdown.
"Why don't you stay and work the crowd a little before we go?"
Sanders said with a smirk.
Funny thing was, about half the people out there wanted Sanders's autograph too.
"The kids are waiting. We should just go."
"No way! We're fine waiting! Right, everyone?"
"If today's MVP wants to hang back a little, who are we to complain?"
James and Liam, of course.
At the same time, the whole team nodded along, grinning.
"We're gonna go say hi to our families."
"Hey, Jaehyuk! Go give 'em a fireworks-level fan service show!"
"Coach, is that okay?!"
The coaching staff just laughed and nodded.
"Nothing's going to happen because we leave ten minutes late."
"Waaaah!"
The team scattered, sprinting off toward their families and friends. Watching them go, I awkwardly made my own way toward the crowd.
"Kyaaaah!"
"Redline21!"
"Over here! Can you sign my football, please?!"
Little kids, elderly folks — people of every age and description swarmed me, asking for autographs and photos.
Why, though?
Some indescribable feeling welled up in my chest.
The fact that this many people genuinely liked me was hitting home for real, and it made me unreasonably sentimental.
This kind of attention is a first.
Since immigrating to America, I'd never really felt life was that hard.
These days, in a globalized era, outright racism was rare. I couldn't say it didn't exist at all, but for the most part, that was how it was.
But thinking about it now — no matter how spectacular my results in track were, the reaction had always been muted.
If anything, the only thing that grew stronger were the looks laced with envy and jealousy.
I never quite registered it as discrimination, but whenever I saw athletes with worse records than mine receiving more support — bigger scholarship checks, better facilities and perks — my brow would crease.
How did I not realize that was discrimination?
More overwhelming results. More incredible records.
I'd believed that as long as I checked those boxes, the attention would come pouring my way eventually. So I trained harder, ran harder...
Well, in the end, I wasn't exactly wrong.
I switched sports, put up freakish numbers, and now everyone acknowledged me, didn't they?
Even looking back, I was glad I'd chosen football.
I did still plan to enter track meets — wasn't that in three days or so?
"Oppa!"
At the familiar Korean, I turned to see Eunbi waving at me.
Standing beside her were students who looked like the marching band, staring at me with eyes sparkling.
I finished the autograph I was working on and walked over to Eunbi, and the commotion grew even louder. Their pure, unfiltered reactions made laughter burst out of me before I could stop it.
"H-he smiled!"
"Absolutely incredible..."
What exactly was incredible about that?
And from a grown man, no less.
As I eyed them with mild disgust, Eunbi grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the band kids.
"This is my brother, Kim Jaehyuk."
"Kyaaaa! Redline21! I'm your fan!"
"C-could we get just one autograph? Oh! Right here, please sign my instrument!"
I glanced sideways and caught Eunbi smirking.
Happy now, little sister?
Still, we'd been through a lot together, so I decided to indulge her little vanity project. Call it repayment for her showing up to every single practice to watch me run. It had helped, honestly.
After a long stretch of signing and photo-taking, Eunbi leaned in and whispered.
"Oppa, I have something to tell you later. It's important."
"What is it?"
"I'll tell you at home. I think the whole family needs to hear it too."
"The family?"
What was this about? Did she suddenly get a boyfriend or something?
I nodded that I'd hear her out, and soon the coaches were signaling that it was time to head back.
"See you at home! And you were amazing again today!"
"Sure, sure."
Eunbi waved a saber around wildly as I walked away.
Hey, isn't that a little dangerous—
Before I could even finish the thought, the band director stepped in and warned her.
What a ray of sunshine.
**
The same family who'd greeted me so warmly outside the stadium had gone all out at home — there was even a cake prepared.
As I stood rooted to the spot, wondering what on earth all this was, my mom and dad clapped and beamed at me.
"That's our son! What a performance today!"
"How does he run like that?! And that interception at the end — that was the highlight of his whole life, I'm telling you!"
It was still just the regular season.
We hadn't even made the playoffs — all we'd done was win an ordinary league game — and this celebration felt way over the top. It made my head itch.
At this rate, if we made the playoffs, they'd probably hang a banner over the house.
And if we actually won the championship...
Just as I was starting to cringe, Minhyuk and Eunbi crept up beside me, snickering.
"Mom, Dad. It's a little early to celebrate."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know we manage Jaehyuk's social media, right? We rushed an edit of just the highlight plays from this game and posted it. Care to guess who reached out?"
These two.
What did they do this time?
For the moment, I announced I was going upstairs to unpack and headed to the second floor.
From below, an eruption of shrieks.
"NO. WAY!!"
"Oh my! Oh my, oh my!"
What in the world was going on down there?
As unease started creeping in, I gave my hands a quick wash and went back down to find my parents frantically poring over Eunbi's smartphone.
"What is it?"
"Heh heh. You should be thanking me, bro."
"Just tell me what it is."
"Alabama reached out. And not just anyone — their head scout, personally!"
Alabama? What kind of dog-butt name is that?
As I stood there tilting my head, Minhyuk's face morphed into sheer disbelief.
"Bro, remember when all those scouts showed up at the season opener? Did you forget what we told you then?"
"What I said? Something about them coming back with better offers?"
"No! Not that — remember what we said!"
"What was it?"
For the life of me, I couldn't remember. Then Eunbi, exhaling like she was expending precious patience, explained.
"It's a football powerhouse. And not just any powerhouse — the most storied, most decorated program in America."
"Alabama is?"
"Yes. And they contacted us. The second we posted that video."
"I see."
At my flat, indifferent response, Eunbi and Minhyuk made gagging, can't-breathe gestures.
"That's Alabama we're talking about?! The number one school in college football!"
"If you go there, the NFL is basically guaranteed! No wait — seriously, bro, do you have any idea how prestigious college football even is?"
"Nope. No idea."
"Uuughhh."
Why were they getting so worked up?
I'd known nothing about American football to begin with. I was only just now learning the basic rules, so where exactly was I supposed to have found time to study the league's social hierarchy?
"Bro, the average attendance at an Alabama football game is one hundred thousand. One. Hundred. Thousand!!"
"One... hundred... thousand?"
That had to be a joke, right?
That many people showing up to watch a college game?
"The stadium seats just over a hundred thousand. And it sells out every single game. Sellouts are basically the norm — people will stand the whole game just to be there."
"And this is college football, not the NFL?"
"Right! Think of college football as the NFL's second division. Honestly, it's so massive that calling it a second division doesn't even do it justice."
Hold on. A hundred thousand wasn't quite landing for me. How big was a hundred thousand per game, exactly?
I discreetly pulled out my phone and searched for the average attendance in Korean baseball. It was still one of the most popular sports back home, after all.
15,000.
Last year, a record-breaking season, had drawn an average of fifteen thousand fans per game.
And even that was described as a massive surge in popularity...
Sure, the population size was different, but picturing a hundred thousand people flooding into a stadium for every single game made even me feel a little dizzy.
Americans really, really love their football, huh?
"Of course, not every college program draws crowds like that. There are all kinds of college leagues, and the most popular one is..."
"The Southeastern Conference. The SEC for short. Alabama's in it too."
With so many colleges, I supposed it made sense that there were all kinds of leagues. I knew none of this, so I just nodded along like someone listening to an interesting story.
"And get this — they're flying in directly to meet you."
"So I'll meet them tomorrow, then. Hmm, should I take a day off? I'll need a suit, I suppose?"
My parents were already completely swept up in the excitement.
Since everyone in the family except me was a football fanatic, they were making a far bigger fuss than the person actually involved.
"But the regular season isn't even over yet. Is it okay to commit now?"
"No, bro! You have to lock it in fast!"
"It's Alabama?! Did you not just hear what we said? The school that fills a hundred thousand seats every single game?!"
"So what? Big deal."
"...Excuse me?"
My family stared at me in exasperation.
But think about it, guys. Fine, I admit it's a great school. But would I actually start there right away?
That place would be crawling with the most hyped recruits in the country.
Odds were they'd play the guys already on the roster before they ever gave me the ball.
And I wanted to prove myself on the field, now.
Sitting on the bench watching games? That would never, ever be enough for me.
"The terms need to be good. That's all I'm saying."
"Bro, even for you, haggling over terms with Alabama is..."
"That's exactly what I said. The regular season isn't even finished. If I go and win the whole state championship, wouldn't even Alabama be willing to sweeten the deal a little?"
"Uhhh..."
My family exchanged awkward looks at my argument.
Apparently I sounded like a man negotiating over a windfall that had rolled right up to his front door.
"Anyway, let's just meet them first."
They were coming all this way — turning them away at the door would be rude.
When a guest shows up at your house, you at least pour them a cup of tea, don't you?