A Grinning Crimson Devil
“······.”
“······.”
At some point, every single one of the NFL executives had risen from their seats, rooted to the spot.
It had all started with Ty's mistake. He'd failed to secure the snapped ball — the kind of error you could count on one hand over an entire career, committed at the worst possible moment, against a powerhouse opponent like the LSU Tigers.
Up to that point, the onlookers had merely gasped and groaned in sympathy.
Then came the scramble. The Tigers swarmed the loose ball like madmen, and Ty Simpson hurled his body into the pile, desperate to protect it somehow.
“Behind you!”
At that moment, Ben Irvin — who had been focused on Jaehyuk all this time — shouted. And then everyone saw it: a crimson flash tearing toward the ball faster than anyone else on the field.
Woooosh—.
Redline's movement was dazzling. Explosive, fluid, brimming with speed. A single act of running — nothing more. And yet, the instant he appeared and secured the ball, every person in that room felt a chill crawl up their spine.
From that moment on, the field belonged entirely to Redline.
Fweee—!
The moment his hands closed around the ball, he planted one palm on the ground and spun. That stunt-like, acrobatic motion had people rising from their seats one after another.
“Holy...”
“What the hell kind of move was that?!”
But it didn't end there. The defense had already crashed down around him. The spin had fooled several defenders, but there were more behind them — a heavy tackle looked inevitable.
CRACK!
Instead, Redline flattened his pursuer with a vicious stiff-arm. Goosebumps raced through the crowd with no sign of letting up.
“JEEZUS!!”
“Wow! Haha!!”
“So that's the famous Redline stiff-arm. How on earth does he generate that kind of power with that body...?”
He carved out his own space. And then, Jaehyuk began to run — a long red afterimage trailing behind his crimson uniform as he exploded downfield.
“He's fast!!”
“!!!”
The moment Jaehyuk took off, everyone was on their feet. His running made every heart in the stands pound. It was the kind of velocity that squeezed your fists tight without your even realizing it — and whenever a red line was drawn across the field, just as his nickname promised, it felt like dopamine physically slamming into your brain.
“RUN!!!”
“Go! Redline! Go! GO!”
Before anyone knew it, the whole crowd was roaring their lungs out. And yet one man — the Eagles' general manager — still refused to take his eyes off something else.
“Zero's got him!”
Number 0 was barreling in from the opposite side. The distance between the two closed in a heartbeat, so blinding was their speed — and then Redline and Zero collided.
SCREECH—!!
“They both stopped!”
“They stopped at the exact same time!”
“G-goosebumps...”
“They're both insane! How do you kill that much speed that cleanly?!”
Before anyone could react to each beat, the next moves came in a blur. Jaehyuk spun — and Eliyah, frozen half a beat, read his direction and dove for the tackle. But Jaehyuk simply leapt clean over him—
“······.”
“······.”
Every mouth that had been gushing admiration went silent. What did we just watch?
A spin move combined with a hurdle, at the same time? That wasn't gymnastics, and it wasn't acrobatics either.
After that, nothing could stop Jaehyuk. Even the Tigers' safeties — the last line of defense — never managed to lay a hand on him before the way opened up. Then, the touchdown.
Until that moment, no one could speak. They simply stared at Jaehyuk in a daze.
“KYAAAAAH!!”
“JAE! HYUK! JAE! HYUK! JAE! HYUK!”
“KIM! KIM! KIM! KIM!”
“REDBLIINEE!!! You're the reason I've been coming to games in person these days!! HAHAHAHA!”
Only at the thunder of the crowd did the NFL executives slowly come back to themselves. They each noticed how soaked their skin was, and one by one pulled out handkerchiefs to dab their foreheads and palms.
“······.”
And still, not a single one of them opened his mouth — as if afraid their true feelings might betray them.
“Everyone's awfully quiet. Did the shock hit you that hard?”
But then Ben Irvin, the only one willing to speak, smiled with easy confidence. “Well, I understand. It was quite the shock the first time I saw it too. Haha.”
“Ahem. I-I don't think it was anything that remarkable. He got lucky with the hurdle, that's all.”
Someone forced out a rebuttal. But everyone present could see straight through the man's flimsy gambit.
“You really think saying that will make us pay any less attention to Redline?”
“Spare us the obvious bluffing. Not after what we just witnessed.”
The war for his signature had already begun. The awe and the chills of moments ago were relegated to the back of their minds as, one after another, the industry's old serpents slithered back to the surface. While they traded wary glances, someone abruptly stepped away to make a phone call — and the moment one man broke the seal, the rest flooded out after him.
Even Howie Roseman, the Eagles GM who'd been cheering for Zero just minutes before, began openly calling his recruiting team.
“Damn it.”
Watching them, Ben Irvin muttered bitterly. He'd submitted proposal after proposal regarding Jaehyuk, but the owner and GM, Arthur Sterling, hadn't budged an inch.
Maybe if he watched this game, his mind would change? No — absolutely not. Jaehyuk had already played eight games and delivered spectacular performance after spectacular performance. Sterling had seen every one of them laid out before his eyes, and still hadn't shown the slightest interest.
“Whoever lands him, it's going to hurt like hell watching it.”
Unless the GM had a change of heart somewhere down the line, all Irvin could do for now was cheer for Jaehyuk as one football fan among millions. Still, just in case — he'd keep sidling closer, little by little.
“Tch.”
After Jaehyuk's touchdown, the LSU Tigers sensed it instinctively: this game was not going to be easy.
The improvisational heroics that had sprung from a single mistake — every one of Redline's movements had been assembled from nothing but optimal choices, without even a hair of error or hesitation. And his head-to-head clash with Zero had delivered a staggering shock to the Tigers' players. As a result, their guard shot up dramatically.
'Damn it.'
But Eliyah understood something. Raising everyone's guard against Redline was exactly what the enemy wanted. Redline was a devastating producer, yes — but at the same time, he made one hell of a flashy decoy. Eliyah and the coaching staff had hashed it out day and night, and the conclusion had been simple: even if they gave up points, containing his highlight plays would count as a win.
Yet Alabama's very first offensive drive had shattered that plan to pieces.
“Ugh.”
Eliyah grimaced as he picked himself up off the turf. To anyone who didn't know better, it looked like nothing more than the sour face of a man furious about conceding a score.
Just then, Jaehyuk — who was standing in the end zone basking in his teammates' cheers — walked over to him.
Step. Step.
The two stood face to face. Eliyah stared him down for a moment, waiting for the taunt that was sure to come out of Jaehyuk's mouth.
But Jaehyuk said something unexpected instead.
“You hit pretty hard. But push yourself like that, and you won't last.”
“!!”
For an instant, Eliyah's mind went blank. He noticed? No way. There's no way...
“Gut it out through this game, then go see a doctor. Unless you want to throw your whole career away.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
He forced the words out flatly, but Jaehyuk seemed to have said all he intended to say; he simply turned and headed back toward the Alabama bench.
One thing was certain. He knows about my injury.
'How?'
A single contest — and their bodies had never even touched. Had he spotted it just from watching? Something not one of his own teammates had picked up on? Even the trainers didn't know. It was a secret.
“Captain! You okay?”
“What did that guy say to you?”
His teammates hurried over, worried. To them, Eliyah only shook his head. “Nothing much.”
“Really?”
“Mm.”
Worried that they'd failed to contain Jaehyuk beforehand, none of the players could quite meet Eliyah's eyes. But to them, he spoke quietly and firmly.
“It's not your fault. It was a freak situation. Nothing anyone could have done.”
“Next time, I'll stop him for sure.”
“If I'd just burst out a split second faster, I would've had him! Grr!”
Watching his players stew over it, Eliyah fought to keep his expression from twisting. He was walking on a creaking knee, moving with painstaking care to look like it didn't hurt — and his gaze drifted back to Jaehyuk one more time.
'Not in this game...'
It had never been like this before. But for some reason, he simply could not stand the thought of losing today.
The game moved fast. Score 7–7, LSU Tigers' offensive possession.
Leading a productive drive, Eliyah guided the offense down the field, mixing in a variety of attacking looks. The Tigers punched in a touchdown on this drive too — not the kind of explosive big play from the start, but proof that their scoring was anything but a fluke.
Then came Alabama's next possession. Every eye locked onto the field, braced for another shocking display of Jaehyuk's brilliance. And just as Eliyah had feared, the razor-sharp vigilance around Redline became a poison of its own.
Fweeee—!
Tud-up!
As if determined to atone for the botched snap on the opening drive, Ty Simpson began throwing with pinpoint perfection — and Ryan Williams, Alabama's star before Jaehyuk ever arrived, went absolutely berserk. It was only possible because the vast majority of the defensive attention had converged on Jaehyuk.
Squee—!
“TOUCHDOWN!”
Ryan hauled in a spectacular catch for six, and from there the two teams traded blows, heaving points back and forth.
14–14.
21–14.
21–21.
24–21.
.
.
.
A Tigers field goal closed out the first half. 24–21 — Alabama trailing by three. But the second half would open with Alabama's offense, and nothing was decided yet. If anything, you could argue Alabama held the slimmest of edges. The spectators gripped the edges of their seats, unable to loosen the knot of tension in their chests for even a moment.
Bah-bah-BAH-bah-bahm!!
Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo!!
As the band and cheerleaders put on their halftime show, Eliyah — who had run more today than he had in any game in memory — pressed a towel over his face and endured the pain.
“Ngh.”
Honestly, running this much at all was already an achievement — and the problem wasn't his stamina. It was the injury.
'If only it weren't for this injury...'
At one hundred percent, could he have beaten Redline? The brutal back-and-forth had already answered that question: one-on-one, he could not beat Redline. Of course, football was a team game, and true one-on-ones were rare — and his team was still winning by three. But as the face of his team, being outplayed by the opposing team's ace stung his pride badly. All the more so for a man who had never, not once in his entire career, been outplayed.
“Second half comes down to conditioning, men! You see those Alabama boys over there sucking wind?! One good shove now and they'll fall over on their own!”
The players nodded along to the Tigers' head coach's fiery exhortation. With both teams fielding such potent attacks, it was the defenders who were suffering the most.
“Alright — let's go!”
The second half kicked off with an Alabama offensive drive. Lord only knew what adjustments they'd cooked up during the break.
“Whew.”
Eliyah looked over at Ryan, the man he was assigned to cover this series. Ryan caught his eye and flashed him a bright grin. Eliyah didn't return it — that guileless smile earned no response. His head held nothing but the single-minded resolve to shut his man down.
“Reeaaady—! Seeet! HUT!”
Ty's signature slow cadence rang out, and the players exploded off the line.
“REDLINE!!”
Eliyah barked the call, eyes locked on the quarterback as he backpedaled in quick shuffle steps. A run play to open the half, then.
The Tigers had already absorbed plenty of pass damage in the first half thanks to Redline's decoying — so with their focus hardened against the pass, Redline's timing-ripped run burst straight through the seam.
Pa-pa-pa-BAM!!
The sound of cleats tearing through the turf erupted like firecrackers. Deceptively light on his feet, Redline's powerful sprint ripped the defense open — and Eliyah, chasing to cut him off, found his path blocked by an ambush he never saw coming.
“Going somewhere? You're stuck with me.”
It was all premeditated. Ryan planted himself in Eliyah's path, blocking him off. Across the field, the same scene played out everywhere: the first and second levels cleared by the linemen and Redline's own raw power, the third-level corners walled off by the receivers. Only the safeties remained, scrambling desperately to plug the gap—
Tap!
Redline brushed past them like they were standing still. Was there truly a single player at the college level who could stop this man alone?
Fweeee—!
The whistle sounded the touchdown. Redline had scored the moment the second half began — and the crowd, euphoric as though the game had only just started, erupted.
“WAHAHAHA!!”
“THAT'S IT!!”
“ROLL TIDE!”
They said the second half would be a war of attrition, huh. Eliyah stared at the Redline bounding around the end zone, still fresh as spring.
'How the hell do we stop him?'
No — it was still fine. As long as they matched him score for score, Alabama was beatable. If we can just answer on offense—
But when the Tigers' ensuing possession rolled around, they came face to face with something none of them had expected.
Tap. Tap.
Redline was tapping his cleats against the turf — standing out on the field, on defense, without ever retreating to the bench.
“Why is he out here...?”
“What? What's going on?”
“No way...”
All of LSU began to freeze — players and coaches alike, every last one of them.
“Hey.”
Then Redline spoke, his helmet swapped for one with no visor at all, his eyes bare.
“This time, I'm the one doing the stopping. Come at me.”
Smirk.
What reflected in the exhausted eyes of the LSU players was a grinning crimson devil.