Throw It Freely
As always, the empty end zone after a touchdown never failed to lift my spirits.
A space that belonged to me alone. A place where, with no one else around, I could feel myself completely. Only the roar of the crowd filled the rest of the air.
I turned around and searched for someone—the guy celebrating with both fists clenched and raised.
“TONY!!!!”
When I shouted to cut through the cheering, the noise around me fell away for an instant. I pushed through it, pointed at Tony with the ball still in my hand, and yelled.
“NICE PASS!!”
The crowd froze for a moment, then erupted all over again.
“Good job!”
“Fantastic teamwork out there!”
“Go! Wichita North! Go!”
And there stood Tony Garcia, staring at the whole scene with a dazed expression. His teammates patted his helmet and began rotating out, congratulating him.
With the extra point substitution, Tony and I headed back to the bench. I walked over to him and spoke.
“That was good. Really good.”
“Huh? Oh—oh, yeah.”
“And from now on, don't be scared. Just fire those passes out there. I won't even ask you to give me the ball. It's fine if you mess up. You saw what just happened, right? I'll find a way to put points on the board no matter what.”
Tony just nodded with a blank look on his face. He'd had a defender shadowing him since yesterday, and he still seemed completely out of it.
Haah... this hopeless kid.
It wasn't like I wanted to baby him like this. But I had no choice. Injured Mark was almost certainly out for the season, which meant I had to carry this guy all the way to the state championship.
More and more lately, I'd been feeling it: yes, I was overpowered. But I couldn't cover everything by myself. Especially when the quarterback couldn't find his footing—even I got into serious trouble.
Which was why I'd spent the entire previous day shadowing this kid, determined to turn him into an actual player. And the result...
[Tony Garcia — Analysis Complete]
[Position Aptitude: Quarterback (B+)]
[Confidence is severely depleted. The more arrogant he becomes, the faster his skill rises.]
I'd confirmed all of this through the Gift. Although—getting better the more arrogant he got? This guy wasn't exactly ordinary either.
“What if I mess up again...”
Seriously, this kid? Again?
Even after putting points on the board, he was still mumbling to himself, gloomy as ever, apparently hung up on his mistake from the last game.
“Hey.”
“Y-yes?”
“Just throw an interception. Go ahead.”
“Wha—?”
Tony looked up at me, standing there in bewilderment. I met his gaze and said with complete confidence.
“I'll rip it away like last time and score a touchdown myself. So just throw it however the hell you want.”
“......”
“What? Don't believe me? Still think there's more I need to prove?”
“N-no, it's not that.”
I stared straight at Tony. He flinched.
“Your mistakes aren't our mistakes. Your losses aren't our losses either. Even if you throw it like garbage, I will win. So you should—”
Gulp.
Looking into Tony's trembling eyes, I could see expectation slowly starting to well up inside them. The ego of a quarterback. The knowledge that he could sling passes freely—that he could devise a play himself and execute it. The authority of a commander. The hope that he might finally be allowed to show it. All the things he'd only ever let himself dream about were filling him up.
“You're the starter now. So go a little wild out there.”
Screech—!
Right at that moment, the whistle for the change of possession sounded—though it felt like hardly any time had passed at all.
“Fweeee!”
“Whoa! Liam! You're the best!”
“How many sacks is that this season already?!”
Looked like Liam had pulled off another one.
“UOOOOOH!!”
He was normally quiet, but after pulling off a sack like that, he let out a full-throated roar.
Watching him, I slowly pulled my helmet back on.
“Even if we lose all three remaining games in a row, our playoff berth is already locked. If there's something you want to do, now is the only time to do it.”
“Right!”
Tony's eyes quickly came back to life, and he steadied his breathing with a blazing expression.
Come to think of it, Sanders and the coaching staff were standing nearby, watching us without saying a word. They'd apparently just been quietly listening in on our conversation. Sneaky.
“Let's go.”
“Let's wreck them! Hahahaha!”
Amid James's booming laughter, Kansas's strongest offense (i.e., me) headed onto the field.
“Oh my God...”
The superlatives just kept coming. At some point, the Desttrroying crew had completely forgotten they were there to film content and were simply absorbed in the game.
They'd planned to grab an impromptu interview the moment Jaehyuk arrived, but seeing him deep in a serious conversation with the quarterback, they gave up. In the end, they reluctantly settled for watching Wichita North's defense for a while...
“Who is that player?”
Within an otherwise ordinary defensive unit, one player stood out above the rest. Judging by his position, he appeared to be playing the role of edge rusher. And he was fast—moving with an agility that didn't match his massive frame, he kept hammering away at the quarterback.
As a result, the opposing quarterback kept committing blunder after blunder, until finally he got sacked, forcing a turnover.
“Liam Hughes. Turns out he was a running back until just recently.”
At Mike's words, Donald's expression turned intrigued.
“So Redline squeezed him out? A player that good? Ooh, shit!”
“He's playing edge rusher pretty well, too. We should snag an interview with him later.”
The game was getting more and more interesting. Last year, this team had gone 1–9, dead last. But what they were watching now—admittedly with a lot of the weight resting on a few specific players—was an enormous transformation.
“Ah, Liam! Mind if we grab a quick interview?”
Mike called out to Liam as he came off the field. But for some reason, Liam politely declined.
“I'll have to pass until the game's over.”
“Ahh, of course—skill like his comes with a pro's mindset already! My apologies.”
“Not at all. It's just that there's something I can't afford to miss.”
“Something you can't miss?”
Liam's gaze turned toward the field. And there, walking out with heads held high, was Wichita North's offense.
And among them, one jersey number stood out far more than any other.
“Ahh!”
Mike nodded, something finally clicking into place.
Redline21!
He wasn't a player only the crowd wanted to watch. Teammates and opponents alike found their eyes drawn to him—a demonic presence on the field.
“Hey, Mike! It's starting!”
At Donald's call, Mike hurried back to his team and refocused on the camera. Wichita North's drive was underway. Surely this time, too, Redline21's spectacular...
“A—TRIPLE TEAM?!”
Donald gaped at the field, dumbfounded. Just as he'd said, opposite Jaehyuk stood three defenders—including a lineman—positioned as if to mark him.
“They're assigning a triple team to a running back? He's not even a receiver. No, even for a receiver, that'd be rare.”
No matter how spectacular his performance had just been, it was a reckless defensive call. Or—were they simply writing off the opposing quarterback and receivers entirely?
Guess we'll see.
Before coming, he'd heard that Wichita North's starting quarterback had been injured last game. The very blunder that had led Desttrroying to come here in the first place had been made by the quarterback standing on the field right now.
So then. Just how would this drive unfold...
“SET—HUH—!”
Wichita North's cadence rang out. The ball arrived in the quarterback's hands. At the same instant, the receivers began running their routes, and...
Rush?
No! A fake!
The quarterback, who had made it look like he was about to hand the ball to the charging Jaehyuk, dropped back into the pocket and scanned for a receiver. The defense, already committed to an unprecedented triple team on the running back, found their lanes crossing in confusion—and the moment the quarterback found his passing lane...
Whoosh—!
“Ooh, shit!”
He released the ball as fast as a trigger pull. BANG! The ball rocketed out.
“Look at that crisp, quick release! He's a solid quarterback!”
With Donald's ringing endorsement, the ball found its receiver safely. Twenty yards gained for Wichita North.
“But a dangerous running back really is terrifying, huh. Look at that—the defenders are still hovering near Redline. The ball's all the way over there.”
“Exactly. He made the perfect decoy.”
He had done nothing but run. And yet the sheer presence of the running back had sucked in everyone's attention. Thanks to that, the quarterback got all the time in the world—and the pressure on his receivers dropped as a bonus.
“This is just straight-up broken!”
“Can I be honest with you, Donald?”
“Yes—say anything!”
Unlike Donald's excited expression, Mike stared at the field with a serious face as he spoke.
“I want to see this team face a stronger opponent. This team, right now!”
“I couldn't agree more, bro! Then we'd better come watch their playoffs next time!”
The power was simply overwhelming. Wichita North's strategy, built around their monster running back Redline21, was simple—and impossible to stop. Run the ball, or play decoy. No good passing option? Toss it short to Jaehyuk. Jaehyuk getting swarmed? Forward pass to a receiver. Just cycling between those two options was enough to drop opponents helplessly, one after another.
And so, today's game ended...
“35–0...”
An absolutely crushing margin. Five touchdowns in total—three different receivers each finding the end zone once, and Jaehyuk scoring two—and not a single point allowed. The skill gap was so overwhelming that, in a sport where morale and mentality weigh so heavily, the opposition simply broke.
They're only high schoolers, after all. And wow, seeing it in person—he's on another level entirely!
With those thoughts, Desttrroying finally launched into their full player interviews.
“REDDLIIIINE!! Interview time, let's gooo!”
Meanwhile, David, Alabama's head scout, had been watching from the stands—his junior scout Russell seated beside him.
“What's your read on him?”
“5-Star Recruit caliber.”
Russell's answer came without hesitation. But David shook his head.
“You've still got a long way to go, my boy.”
“Please enlighten me.”
“No. You'll watch, and you'll feel it for yourself. You'll be at every game anyway, until they take the championship.”
“...The championship?”
“That's right. The championship.”
Russell blinked in mild surprise. No matter how experienced David was, no matter how sharp his eye, declaring a championship outright was something else.
There are a few schools whose playoff runs look likely—and among them, Blue Valley currently has not one but two of the rare 5-Star Recruits in Kansas.
Kansas wasn't exactly famous for football. Not completely barren, but 5-star talents sprouted there as rarely as beans in a drought. And Blue Valley, from that parched talent pool, somehow possessed two of them all on its own. They were this year's championship favorites.
Until a dark horse showed up, that is.
“And seeing it in person, it's even more remarkable than I imagined.”
“I was shocked as well.”
“You're probably thinking the same thing I am. Say it first.”
At David's expectant gaze, the young scout named three players.
“Redline goes without saying. But Liam, James, and Tony—those three are all well worth watching. Especially Liam. Personally, I rated him higher than Redline.”
“Tch.”
David clicked his tongue in clear displeasure. He was, apparently, utterly smitten with Redline.
Russell continued his explanation.
“In the current football landscape, the most valued positions are edge rusher and defensive tackle—the front line of the defense.”
“I agree with that.”
“Which is precisely why Liam Hughes, with his physical tools and the numbers he's stacking up, is the talent we should be eyeing most closely.”
“You've got a point.”
David nodded along, calm and composed. But the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was impossible to hide.
“And yet, still a long way off.”
“I would be grateful for your guidance.”
“Your reasoning is sound. You're not wrong. But listen here—what you're doing is nothing more than following the trend.”
“Following the trend...”
Russell repeated David's words and sank into thought. Then his eyes flew wide open, and he stared at his superior.
“A trend setter?!”
To Russell's stunned exclamation, David simply smiled and nodded.
“The moment Redline steps onto the college football stage, the entire landscape of the sport will be turned upside down. What we're looking at is nothing less than a strategic weapon.”
“Th-that much...?”
Russell had seen the highlight video from the Derby game. There was no denying it was an astonishing sequence—but he'd written it off as a once-in-a-lifetime stroke of luck. Of course, he knew even a fluke had to be built on a foundation of genuine skill.
“You'll see soon enough. At the championship.”
David's smile deepened.