Showtime's Last Run
Wichita North······.
No—the dazzling touchdown of Redline.
Marcus Thornton, forced to watch that spectacle from the bench, could only offer a bitter smile.
"He's even more of a monster than I thought."
Hopkins had been right.
Stars and numbers—4-star this, 5-star that—meant absolutely nothing in the face of that man.
In front of him, everyone was equal, you might say.
Watching Redline move, even Marcus—proud as he was of his own ability—found himself doubting whether he could actually win a one-on-one.
"Goddammit."
The more he thought about it, the more it stung.
To think they only got to play this fun a game once.
Should he put in for a grade waiver right now?
He didn't know if it would work, but if he'd known it would be this entertaining, he would have requested it ages ago.
Still, it's not over yet.
Nineteen seconds remained.
Realistically, there was nothing left to do.
The only possibility was a kickoff return touchdown.
After the extra point, Wichita North would be kicking off.
A kickoff is the long-distance kicking play that occurs at the start of each half or after a score, when the scoring team's kicker launches the ball downfield to the opposition.
If the kicked ball landed in or sailed through the end zone, play simply resumed at the 20-yard line in what was known as a touchback.
But if the receiving team caught the ball in the field of play, they were free to run with it. That was the return.
Most return attempts ended in an immediate tackle, so teams generally let the ball go for a touchback.
Returns were risky plays in every respect.
They rarely gained more yardage than a touchback would provide, and they carried the highest injury risk from tackles of any play in the game.
Worse, one mistake meant handing back that hard-won possession—so on the whole, a play teams avoided.
But right now, it was the only card they had.
"Coach."
"······Go ahead."
The Blue Valley head coach nodded before Marcus had even finished speaking—as if he already knew exactly what was coming.
With the coach's blessing, Marcus began strapping on his gear. Glancing sideways, he found his Blue Valley teammates wearing faces of utter despair, on the verge of tears.
"Anyone would think a family member died. Pull your heads together, damn it!"
At Marcus's bark, they finally sheepishly pulled themselves together.
Before long, Wichita North converted the extra point, and the score became 56:49.
Now the final kickoff was about to begin.
And for the first time in the game, Marcus stepped onto the field as a special teams returner.
The sight of Marcus taking the field set the Wichita North bench murmuring.
"A returner?"
"Isn't that dangerous...?"
Even if they honestly didn't think anything would come of it—
Just in case. No, if it was Marcus······.
The coaching staff, too, watched the situation with grave attention.
A dramatic return touchdown wasn't something that happened under ordinary circumstances.
But wasn't there a guy right over there who pulled off such things as routinely as eating meals?
And the opponent was more than capable of pulling off something like that at least once, too.
"I'm going out there."
"······."
It was then that Jaehyuk stepped forward, loosening his shoulders.
A faint smile played at the corner of his otherwise impassive face.
The look of a predator that had found its prey.
"Jaehyuk! Yes—if it's Jaehyuk, he can stop Marcus!"
"That's right. Jaehyuk's got this, no problem!"
With Jaehyuk stepping up, the team members voiced their enthusiastic agreement.
The coaching staff, however, had a slight worry about deploying a player who had never once practiced a single down of defense.
"Think about how many times Jaehyuk has stripped the ball from opponents all season!"
"Now's the time for Jaehyuk to put the finishing touch on it all!"
The reactions around them grew even more heated.
In the end, Sanders and the coaching staff exchanged a few words and gave their approval.
"Go get him, Redline 21."
"Yes, sir!"
Jaehyuk donned his helmet.
At the same moment, his teammates' cheers erupted from the bench.
"Jaehyuk! Go smash Showtime!"
"Hell yeah! Now I feel invincible—invincible, I tell you!"
"The championship is ours!"
And so, as the aces of Blue Valley and Wichita North both took the field, a roar poured down from the crowd.
"WAAAAAH!"
"Redline and Showtime, going head to head!"
"Goddammit! How is the final play this dramatic?!"
"How much emotion can one game possibly deliver?! Great effort, both schools' players!"
"The game of the century! And to think it's the state championship—no regrets here!"
Wichita North fan and Blue Valley fan alike—everyone sent up fervent cheers as pure football lovers.
Now, truly the final play.
And standing on the field, the ace of each team.
"Whew. Whew······."
Deep breaths slowed Marcus's pounding heart.
In his vision, he could see Redline standing at the far end of the field, on the opposite side.
"HAHA!"
To think he'd come out to face him at the very end, too.
A guy with some sense of romance, huh.
The state championship final. A seven-point deficit. The last kickoff play. And now a monstrous opposing player taking the field.
It was the most thrilling, most trembling moment of Marcus's entire football life.
Beep!
The referee's whistle sounded, and at last the Wichita North kicker drove his foot into the ball on the tee.
BOOM!
The instant the ball flew, Wichita North's coverage team surged forward as one.
And among them was Redline 21.
I'm not losing.
Marcus arrived at the spot where the ball would drop.
He tracked the paths of the oncoming defenders while never letting his focus slip from the ball.
Love him or hate him, Marcus was a 5-star recruit.
He was good enough to start immediately at most colleges in the country.
"Here it comes."
As if speaking to himself, he watched the falling ball.
Blue Valley's players were already moving to block for him, holding off Wichita North.
Thup!
Marcus tucked the ball gently into his chest.
A glittering light flickered in his eyes.
"RUN!!"
The moment he signaled the catch, every Blue Valley player on the field sprinted into their coverage blocks.
His teammates held off the approaching Wichita North players one by one.
And down the lane they had carved open for him, Marcus began to run.
"Huh! Huh! Huh!"
A 40-yard time of 4.44.
He wasn't merely elite at catching the ball—he possessed a speed no one could touch. That was 'Showtime,' Marcus Thornton.
But······.
Jolt!
Mid-stride, Marcus felt a chill run down his spine.
He tried to ignore it and keep sprinting for the end zone, but the searing pressure pricking at his skin finally forced him to turn his eyes.
Pitter-patter.
Diagonally ahead.
A single player, running at a measured pace—yet somehow, as if simply waiting to close the distance.
And the number on that player's chest.
21.
Redline.
Seeing him, Marcus kicked his legs even harder.
For some reason, Redline's relaxed demeanor only piled the anxiety higher.
No. If I just keep running like this, I can score.
His running lane was exquisite.
Marcus hugged the sideline to the razor's edge. Most of the defenders were being swallowed up by his teammates' blocks, or else outpaced outright by his speed.
The very moment he thought that—
Whoosh—!
A crimson shadow suddenly appeared in front of him.
Marcus's eyes flew wide open.
Since when?
The man had clearly still been way back there. He'd figured it would take two or three seconds to reach him—but Redline had closed the gap in the blink of an eye.
"GRAAAH!"
"HNGH!"
Two coverage defenders who'd chased after Redline to stop him went tumbling to the turf with a single spin move.
Now it was one-on-one.
Marcus felt like prey being marked by a predator.
Thup!
And then, at last—
Redline's hand touched Marcus.
"GET OFF!!"
Marcus tried to accelerate even further, to shake Redline off—
And in that instant, he realized.
Redline was running at the exact same speed as him.
"!!"
The moment he turned his head, stunned, to confirm it with his own eyes, Redline drove his fist straight into the ball.
CRACK!
However firmly he'd been clutching it, he had no answer for a punch thrown with murderous intent.
He'd run sixty yards.
Just a little farther, he'd thought, and it would be done.
But the ball shot loose in an instant and tumbled across the grass.
...Goddammit.
Marcus, dumbfounded, turned to look for Redline—but the man was already gone from his side.
When he looked back, Redline was chasing after the loose ball at a staggering pace, ready to scoop it up.
"Ha... Haha!"
That guy was just—
A monster, plain and simple.
Even with victory already sealed, watching that back chasing the ball, Marcus came to a halt where he stood.
"I lost. You son of a bitch."
It was the first overwhelming defeat he had ever felt in his entire career.
Beep! Beep! BEEEEEP—!
Wichita North had recovered the fumble and seized possession once more. Right up to the very end, Jaehyuk had given them everything.
And with the ball in hand, Wichita North simply knelt down to run out the clock and end the game.
56:49.
A game that had kept every single viewer on a knife's edge until the final final second came to a close with more than a hundred combined points on the board.
"W-we won······."
"WAAAAAH!! We won! We actually won!"
"Champions! State champions!!"
The players watching from the bench came pouring out in a flood. Even Liam, usually the calm one, whooped and jumped around like a little kid at this moment and this moment only.
The crowd, too, descended into sheer pandemonium.
Excited fans came streaming down from the stands, joining the players to revel in the joy together.
"That was······ truly a legendary game."
"I'm going to go home and rewatch this one the moment the broadcast ends. The afterglow is just too strong."
The two commentators, utterly spent, slumped in their chairs as they carried on with the broadcast.
The back-and-forth between Marcus and Redline moments ago had lit one final fire in both men's chests.
The chat window, by contrast, was still blazing hot.
Comments flooded in without pause, and the live broadcast—hitting its all-time peak viewer count—was lagging and stuttering under the strain.
On top of that, it wasn't just the official broadcast; Deestroying's live stream was running as well.
"The KSHSAA playoff final, state champions: Wichita North High School!"
"WAAAAAAAAH!!!"
Spotlights and cheers poured down from every direction.
The players shed tears of gratitude, every last one of them.
Of course, the same could not be said of Jaehyuk.
As if winning the championship were simply to be expected, he merely wore a faint smile.
His teammates came swarming toward him.
"Kim Jaehyuk! The hero of our championship!"
"We can't just stand around here!"
"Come on, let's go! Go!"
"RAAAAAGH!!"
Suddenly hoisted onto his teammates' shoulders for a victory lift, Jaehyuk wriggled and shouted.
"If you've got this much energy left over, you should've dumped it all into the game, you idiots!"
Whether they couldn't hear him, or were deliberately pretending not to, the whole team burst into laughter at the sight of him faintly blushing and acting like it wasn't him up there.
"Now it's the coach's turn!"
"Huh? Coach Tyrone, you're not allowed to run away!"
At last lowered back to the ground, Jaehyuk tried to hide his emotions by pretending to dust off his uniform.
It was then that someone approached him.
The air around them went suddenly cold.
"It's Marcus."
"Ahem."
When Jaehyuk looked up, a black player with a fierce, almost intimidating presence loomed over him—hard to believe he was a fellow high schooler.
"Hey."
Marcus smirked and abruptly raised his fist. For a split second, the onlookers flinched, wondering if he was about to punch Jaehyuk.
But the fist stopped a respectful distance away.
It was looking for a greeting.
Jaehyuk knocked his own fist against it, casual as anything.
"'Sup."
"That was fun. I lost, but I can live with it. You look like a middle schooler, but damn can you run."
"You got played."
Marcus snorted with laughter at Jaehyuk's reply.
Then he asked, suddenly serious.
"College. Where are you thinking of going?"
"Why? Haven't decided yet."
"Why do you think. So we can go at it again."
Marcus smiled fiercely as he looked at Jaehyuk. Beaten, yet not a shred of his spirit bent.
"Different conferences almost never cross paths, you know."
Honestly, Jaehyuk didn't give the question much thought either way.
It wasn't as if this guy was the only opponent in the world worth facing.
Though of all the opponents he'd faced so far, Marcus had certainly been the toughest. On that final play, one slip-up and he'd have given up the score.
"You've already got a commitment somewhere, don't you."
"I'm leaning SEC for now. So you come to the SEC too."
SEC? I've heard that name a lot.
He'd been playing football for all of four months, and Jaehyuk's grasp of the landscape was still hazy.
He focused so hard on the games themselves that most other information just slipped his mind.
"I'll think about it."
"Come. I mean it. So we can clash one more time. Until you show up, I'm going to polish a starting job for myself within the year."
With those final words, Marcus waved and disappeared. Judging by the mood over on his side, the Blue Valley camp was a somber one.
"Oppaaaaa!"
"Jaehyuk!"
Then came the family, joining the celebration in a wave.
Little by little, Jaehyuk found himself drained less by the game than by the endless procession of events that came after it.
I'd honestly rather be training······.
After the KSHSAA playoffs ended.
It wasn't a tournament that commanded national fame, but it was a state championship all the same, and it generated quite a stir.
First, there was Wichita North High School itself.
A team that had wallowed at the very bottom of the standings for the past four years had suddenly burst into the spotlight this season, achieving the astonishing feat of a perfect, undefeated championship run.
They had gone beyond underdog, beyond dark horse—they had written a myth.
And at the center of it all, naturally, stood Redline 21—Jaehyuk.
His story was woven together with the tale of NFL legend Barry Sanders taking the head coaching job, and he had shattered every Kansas high school record on the books.
Even after the team's captain, Mark Hamilton, went down injured mid-season, Jaehyuk carried the team to an undefeated title and rocketed to stardom overnight.
Besides, his profile was studded with keywords no one could afford to ignore.
First of all, he was East Asian.
Very, very rarely had an Asian player ever made noise at the skill positions.
Not only that—he had carried his team to a state championship?
And that wasn't all.
When several sports media outlets and newspapers dug into his background, the results were staggering: his entire football career spanned a mere four months.
No player alive could have shown that level of ability and achievement in so short a time.
These astonishing narratives stacked on top of one another, amplified by Deestroying's promotion and a deluge of interest from insiders—and within the state of Kansas at least, there was no one who didn't know the name Jaehyuk.
"Let's see. Your awards this season: State Championship Game MVP, All-State First-Team Running Back, All-League First-Team Running Back, League Offensive Player of the Year, and Kansas State Player of the Year······."
"Unreal. Hey, brother—can't you split one of those awards with me?"
Jaehyuk let the chatter of his younger siblings pass in one ear and out the other as he silently chewed his chicken breast.
And Eunbi, apparently still not finished, went on.
"248Sports—the one that interviewed you before—named you their National High School Player of the Year too. Whoa, big brother, your shelf must be getting heavy."
"But I'm a little disappointed. Why couldn't he get named an All-American? He absolutely steamrolled a 5-star prospect out there. Don't tell me it's racism?!"
"That's because he's a sophomore. That honor's only for seniors. I mean, sure, sophomores get picked every once in a rare while, but this was Oppa's first year of real play, so it can't be helped."
"Anyway, brother, how's school? Can you feel how much your standing's changed?"
Minhyuk asked, his eyes sparkling bright.
Jaehyuk stared blankly at him for a moment, then let out a wry laugh.
"Somehow it feels like you're the one more excited."
"It's called living vicariously! You're my brother, after all!"
"I've been too busy training to notice anything. Camp's coming up soon."
The Nike/Under Armour Skill Camp.
An elite camp hosted by famous sports brands, where the top prospects at each position were invited for specialized coaching.
He couldn't take part in the All-American selection or the high school All-Star game—but this camp was a taste of that world.
"Think Dakorien Moore will be there? Lots of Texas prospects will come, right?"
"You can beat them all, Oppa!"
"I'm not going there to win."
Am I not? Am I going there to win, then?
Frankly, Jaehyuk still couldn't quite figure out what a camp was even for.
But whatever the case.
He'd collected his Gift rewards, after all—and whatever came his way, Jaehyuk was confident he could beat all of it.