The Last Whistle
Beep— beep— beeeep!
The whistle blew, signaling the end of the game.
The final match of this year's KSHSAA Football season had come to a close.
“WAAAAAAH—!!”
“Back-to-back champions!!!”
“REDLIIINE!! What the hell was that just now!!”
“An undefeated streak across consecutive seasons! They've set a new Kansas league record!!”
Jaehyuk, having stripped the ball away in the final contest, walked out of the end zone and simply stopped there.
And so, another year ended with Wichita North crowned as champions.
“GWAAAAH!”
“Wahaha! We won! We actually won!!”
“Hnnngh!”
Every emotion on the field came pouring out at once.
The players who had been waiting on the bench bolted out too, savoring the championship to their hearts' content.
Hopkins watched the entire scene in a daze, as if he'd become a bystander to his own life.
Quarterback Evan came up beside him and clapped him on the back.
“Good work out there, Cap.”
“······Yeah.”
He had given it everything.
Every single moment of the game—even down to each breath—he had played with total focus.
He'd gone two-way, playing both offense and defense, and run himself into the ground regardless of the score.
He had no regrets.
Only a bitter ache of what might have been.
Redline—no, Kim Jaehyuk—was still a wall.
A wall both of them might be rated five-star, yet one that could never be climbed.
“Snnrk— hck.”
“Damn it all······.”
Derby's players were reddening around the eyes, hearts breaking.
Watching his teammates like that, Hopkins pulled himself together.
“Everyone! You fought hard!”
Who knew when any of them would play a game together again.
This was the last official game they would ever play in Kansas.
Hopkins himself would be heading off to college next year.
Every head on the team bowed under the weight of regret and loss.
“We didn't win the championship, but playing alongside all of you was always a joy. It was an honor!”
In the end, he couldn't hold back the emotions surging up inside him.
Hopkins wept, hot tears streaming down his face.
“I'm sorry I was a lousy captain! Thank you for believing in someone like me and following me! And I'll be a Derby player forever!!”
“Cap...!”
Every last member of Derby broke down in tears.
Even Coach Steve, who had joined them from the bench a moment too late, couldn't hide how red his eyes had become.
At the same time, the stands erupted into cheers and roars.
“Hold your heads high, Derby!”
“Greatest game I've ever seen! I'll treasure this moment for the rest of my life!”
“Well played, all of you! The way you fought to the very end— you had me crying too!”
“I'll be Derby's eternal fan from here on out, same as always! We're behind you!”
“You did great, everyone!! Don't cry!!!”
Clap clap clap clap.
One by one, the crowd rose to its feet and began to applaud.
It was a gesture of respect for the players who had created such a beautiful game.
At that moment, the KSHSAA Football broadcast team rose with them, applauding as they delivered their lines.
“What a beautiful scene this is.”
“That's the magic of high school football, isn't it? The clash of youth! The romance of it all! The game may have divided them into winner and loser, but every one of these young men fought with everything they had—they're all victors in life.”
The two kept clapping with no intention of sitting down, and soon their eyes turned to the victors—Wichita North.
“Every time I watch them, I'm reminded: Wichita North's games have not disappointed once. Not a single one.”
“And they keep giving us moments like this, so moving they hurt. Honestly, it might be rude to the other players to say this, but I think we owe it all to Jaehyuk.”
“I agree completely. Overwhelming talent you simply can't find at the high school level! The dramatic moments he produces make every hair on your body stand on end.”
“From what I hear, no concrete decision about his college future has been made yet. Which school will he choose? All eyes are on his next move.”
“Ooh, after today's performance, his stock has to have gone up even higher. That duel with Hopkins, a fellow five-star— it's a highlight that will live forever in the history of high school football.”
The chat had flooded in all at once the moment the game ended.
Watching the messages scroll by faster than anyone could read a single one, Ryan spoke up.
“Redline21, college-bound next year! Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing the future of American football— a future that will be carved into history!”
The score gap had been a bit lopsided.
Compared to last year's championship, the game hadn't been quite so razor-thin.
Still, as a finale to the long-running rivalry with Hopkins, it had made for a rather fitting send-off.
Thud. Thud.
Before joining his teammates in celebrating the victory,
I went to find Hopkins first.
Sure, I leaned heavily individualistic—but even I wasn't about to dismiss the fight Hopkins had shown out there today.
“Re... Redline······.”
“C-Cap! Redline's here!”
The Derby players erupted into a flurry the moment I appeared.
Every one of them still had eyes rimmed red.
“Whoa. You made it.”
“What sorry state is that, huh?”
Hopkins, looking utterly drained by now, gave me a weak wave. He must have cried himself out—his eyes were swollen shut.
“You insufferable bastard.”
“Excuse me?”
Swollen eyes or not, the man still looked like a movie star.
Infuriatingly handsome, as always.
I gave a quick, respectful nod to Derby's head coach and staff as they came over, then spoke to the players.
“That was fun.”
“······.”
“I give every game everything I've got, but this one especially. You guys hit hard, I'll give you that.”
And then, one last thing.
I smiled at Hopkins.
“See you in the college leagues.”
“Next time, I won't lose.”
Hopkins said it like a vow.
As I turned and started walking back toward our side of the field, he shouted after me.
“See you in the NCAA, Redline!!”
I threw a hand up and waved it around lazily.
Man, I'd actually sprinted my heart out today, and I'd pushed way too hard in the fourth quarter. Even I was beat.
With goodbyes to Derby behind me, I returned to find my teammates in the middle of a full-on victory lift, tossing each other into the air.
Second time now, come to think of it.
Two years already, huh.
I'd started football in August of last year.
And now, one year and four months later.
Twenty-four games. Twenty-four wins.
132 total career touchdowns in high school—5.5 touchdowns per game on average.
An absurd 47 yards per rushing attempt.
Stats that made not feeding me the ball practically an admission of stupidity.
Beyond that: rushing yards, average rushing yards per game, rushing touchdowns, carries, longest run, and on and on.
Numbers that swept away every high school record across the entire country.
The only records I hadn't touched were a team's consecutive win streak and losing streak.
One school had recently won five straight state championships, and another had racked up an unbelievable 151-game winning streak.
But.
That didn't mean our school's résumé was anything to sneeze at.
Those were plenty legendary numbers in their own right.
That much alone was bound to make some noise.
Which meant there was honestly nothing left for me to accomplish in the high school ranks.
“It's the Captain!”
“Where'd you run off to!”
“WOOOOOH!”
They came swarming over, and this time it was me they hoisted into the air.
With the crowd's cheers still ringing in my ears,
I soaked in the moment.
I'd let myself enjoy it—just for today.
Because tomorrow, I had to run again.
Next target: the NCAA D1 college leagues.
I planned to wipe every single college record clean off the books.
As Cheryl Sanders skimmed rapidly through the news articles, a satisfied smile curved across her lips.
Impeccably tailored suit over a firm, athletic physique radiating health, she was the CEO of the sports agency Elite Performance Group—and Jaehyuk's agent.
“Good. Very good.”
She murmured it low, and on her desk, envelopes stamped with the logos of a dozen different universities were already piled in cheerful disarray.
Meanwhile, the office phone rang off the hook, a plain declaration of just how frantic things had become.
Truth be told, when she'd first taken Jaehyuk on as a client, she hadn't expected much.
Her roster had always been college players and NFL veterans, after all.
She hardly had the free time to personally babysit a high school senior—and an Asian one at that.
But her father, Barry Sanders, had begged and pleaded until she finally gave in.
And it turns out he's a monster!
She learned it later, but everything about Jaehyuk's records was the kind of thing you'd refuse to believe even watching it with your own two eyes.
She'd been so skeptical that she actually flew herself out to Kansas to see a game in person.
And it made sense. On paper, his physical measurables were nothing special.
Plus, he was Asian.
Not that she was prejudiced—this was simple statistics. The near-total absence of Asian athletes in America's biggest sport spoke for itself.
“But he was the real deal.”
Jaehyuk was real.
Every sports media outlet now acknowledged him as a five-star running back, but honestly? He was more than that.
A franchise star.
The first Asian franchise star in history, no less!
Ring-ring-ring!
Right on cue, her phone began ringing with gusto.
She picked up, and the call connected instantly.
“Ma'am, it's USC again. This time the athletic director wants to speak with you directly······.”
Cheryl tapped her desk in silence.
Then answered slowly.
“Put them on hold.”
And it wasn't just USC flooding her lines over Jaehyuk.
Alabama, Ohio State, Clemson, LSU······.
The head coaches, scouts—even the university presidents—of every storied football program in the country were reaching out personally.
And laced through every one of their voices was the same raw, unmistakable desperation for Jaehyuk.
“Put them through.”
“Yes, ma'am!”
The moment USC's athletic director came on the line, he launched straight into effusive thanks.
“Sweet merciful heavens, thank you! We're so grateful you took our call, Cheryl.”
“Hello, Director. What can I do for you?”
She asked with the shameless poise of a stone wall, and the director immediately began to grovel.
“Cheryl, please. Just give us a chance. I promise we can offer Jaehyuk the finest environment in the country. Scholarship, academic support, a dedicated personal coaching staff— whatever he wants, we'll move heaven and earth to provide it!”
“Hmm. That sounds remarkably similar to the terms you offered last time······.”
“If money were on the table, I'd hand over a king's ransom! Ugh. Just—hold on a moment! I'll draft up far more detailed terms and send them over personally!”
Having fended off USC's director, another university's call came through before she could even breathe.
One after another, Cheryl fielded them all, dispatching each with a satisfied smile.
The courtship that had begun last night had escalated to the point where calling it a war would be no exaggeration.
The universities were tripping over themselves to outdo one another with increasingly outrageous offers, all for a shot at Jaehyuk's heart.
Battling them might have exhausted anyone else—but Cheryl only drew strength from it.
Ah, I love this job!
Hers was a woman happiest with a deal on the line.
Then again, when Dad had said he was taking a head coaching job at a high school, she'd assumed it was just a hobby. Who knew he'd been quietly raising a monster in his own backyard?
Her dopamine levels were soaring.
“Well, that's enough fielding for now. Time to start setting the negotiation table.”
Cheryl's eyes gleamed, sharp as blades.
Jaehyuk's heart seemed to lean toward Alabama already.
But driving his price even higher? That was the agency's job.
And she was confident she could secure him the best terms imaginable.
She couldn't collect a fee on college negotiations as his agency—but in exchange, she had locked in her place as Jaehyuk's exclusive agent all the way through his NFL entry.
That alone was worth every hour of work.
Jaehyuk—no, Redline21—was no mere high school prospect.
He was already a superstar of the future, and his value was skyrocketing into the astronomical.
And Cheryl was preparing her next move for one bold, decisive play.