Chapter 135
Chapter 135
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 135
Chapter Title: Again, Writer
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After Woo Ji-hyun's score, the atmosphere on the court shifted.
A turnover from the production team gave the writers' team another chance.
And Woo Ji-hyun didn't miss it this time either.
Even in the second half, he unleashed terrifying speed, tearing through the production team's defense in one go and scoring again with a layup.
"Dangerous."
"We need to break their momentum."
"Timeout!"
As the flow steadily shifted toward them, Heo Gwang-su called for a timeout.
It was to halt the momentum swinging toward the writers' team.
At the same time, the production team made substitutions.
They swapped in fresher players.
"Looks like they sense it too. This is the turning point."
"How long can we hold out?"
"Honestly, I want to sub out right now. Why does this sport demand nonstop running and moving?"
"That's the charm of basketball."
"Charm? It's insane."
Yeo Woo-jin shook his head.
As the center, he had less ground to cover, but even so, he felt like he might puke.
For someone who only hit the gym occasionally, this activity level was straight-up overkill.
But for the sake of the team—not himself—Yeo Woo-jin gritted his teeth and endured.
"Hyung! I think I can go back in now."
"Swap with Seon-woo then."
Confirming three nimble-looking shorter guys subbing in, Woo Ji-hyun spoke to Lee Jang-hu.
His eyes stayed glued to the production team.
He'd instantly clocked what their substitution aimed for.
"They're going for a speed battle, right?"
"Yeah, our two hyungs are on the slower side. Quickness and reaction time too."
"But we saw this coming."
"Exactly."
Dodging the glares from the two hyungs—who looked offended at being called out right in front of them—Woo Ji-hyun took a deep breath.
To make the most of this brief timeout.
What he needed most right now was stamina recovery.
Those monster moves burned through energy like crazy.
'Even with consistent stamina training, this is brutal.'
Calming his ragged breath that rose to his chin, Woo Ji-hyun cracked his neck side to side.
The real game started now.
"Don't even worry about screens. Just keep passes quick and simple. Accuracy goes without saying. Got it?"
"Of course. I'll deliver the perfect pass."
"I don't need perfect. Just a proper one."
"Pfft!"
The youngest, Si-ha, nearby burst out laughing without meaning to.
Woo Ji-hyun's dead-serious tone cracked him up.
"No, hyung, you're roasting him right to his face..."
"When you get the chance, shoot immediately. Don't hesitate and look around, or you'll lose the ball."
"Yes, sir."
Lee Jang-hu nodded at Woo Ji-hyun's no-nonsense vibe.
The game resumed.
Thump! Thud!
A fierce back-and-forth raged nonstop on the court.
The writers' de facto ace, Woo Ji-hyun, drew heavy defense.
They didn't hesitate with dirty plays—nudges out of the ref's sight, jersey grabs.
Even Nam Hee-gyu, the one pulling his weight, faced tight pressure.
No matter how scary his off-ball movement, it meant nothing without the ball.
So the production team zoned up, isolating Nam Hee-gyu and Woo Ji-hyun.
"Urgh!"
"Ugh!"
But despite that, they couldn't pull the lead wider.
Not on Woo Ji-hyun or Nam Hee-gyu's level, but Lee Jang-hu, Kang Tae-jin, and Yeo Woo-jin threw their bodies into blocking the production team's attacks.
Lee Jang-hu stood out most.
Full of grit, he played like Woo Ji-hyun said—pour everything onto the court and collapse like a mad dog.
Screens, dribbling, shooting? Not his strengths. Sheer hustle covered it all.
Thanks to that, Woo Ji-hyun could focus purely on offense.
"Substitution!"
"Good work! Leave the rest to us!"
With four minutes left in the half, Park Seong-il and Kang Woo-hyuk stepped in.
Replacing Kang Tae-jin and Yeo Woo-jin, who'd burned white-hot with guts till the end.
The score gap now sat at six points.
"Whoa."
"It went in?"
Hye-jeong and Soo-ryun, cheering as fiercely as the runners, sparkled with awe.
Woo Ji-hyun's turning jumper had rimmed out, circled the hoop, then dropped.
Weirdly, a ton of his shots went in like that—nerve-wracking.
Under constant double-teams, he couldn't get set properly, always firing tough shots. Yet most banked in.
"I mean, yeah. One or two, you call luck. That's skill."
"He's basically scoring solo..."
Faces flushed beet-red amid the fast breaks.
Attack and defend like hell to win—you had to score first.
Still, the gap kept shrinking.
Thanks to Woo Ji-hyun's heroics.
"Down to three!"
"We almost caught up!"
"Hup!"
The production team countered instantly, leveraging stamina for fast breaks. Woo Ji-hyun clenched his teeth.
He saw their plan: score before he could set.
But no one outran the ball.
Splash!
Back to a five-point lead. Woo Ji-hyun panted hard.
Pushing the pace like mad had drained him.
Still, he checked the clock.
"Sorry, hyung."
"It's fine. You're doing great."
"But under two minutes left."
"Plenty of time. Block twice, score twice—tied. Three-pointer wins it. Avoid OT if we can."
Overtime meant certain loss for Woo Ji-hyun.
Already gassed stamina-wise, they'd crumble at the start.
He had to end it in regulation.
"Think we can? Feels like they'll milk the clock."
"They will. So we cut it off somehow. You know what I mean?"
"Yeah."
"Got it."
Rushed, Woo Ji-hyun pushed for points.
But the production team dragged it out.
Leading, they maximized every second.
Even on offense, no risks.
"Tch!"
Final sprint—everyone maxed out together.
But that last two-point gap held.
The writers fought desperately; the production team matched it with iron defense.
Ting!
With five seconds left, chaos hit.
Exploiting the 24-second violation max, the production team's layup—basic basics—rimmed out.
Gap stuck at two. Ball to writers.
"Block!"
Lee Jang-hu snagged the rebound and fired to sprinting Woo Ji-hyun.
Routine by now—no hesitation.
Heo Gwang-su bellowed.
Game not over till the final whistle.
"Ahh!"
Tiramisu members clutched hands as time ticked.
Lee Jang-hu's dagger pass sliced the court to Woo Ji-hyun.
Clock: one second left.
Woo Ji-hyun just hit half-court.
Whoosh!
Ref's whistle in mouth, Woo Ji-hyun launched right before.
Half-court bomb toward the hoop.
Beep!
Whistle blew.
Split-second: ball first.
All eyes—players, fans—locked on it.
This shot decided it.
Thump. Thud.
Wobbly release off the run—rim, backboard.
Then swish.
Buzzer-beater.
"Woooah!"
"Stephen Curry vibes!"
"Kyaa! We won! Dinner's on!"
"Woo Ji-hyun! Woo Ji-hyun!"
Pure luck-shot miracle. Sisters and Tiramisu lost it.
Half-court tied it—no, reversed by one.
Trailing all game, flipped at the end—pandemonium.
Production team: utter deflation.
"Hoo."
"Good game."
"Could've gone easier."
"Nah, competition's ruthless. Dirty play's part of it."
The guy who'd shadowed him shook hands. Woo Ji-hyun gripped back, shaking his head.
He'd hounded till the end.
Without timely arm-and-hip checks, Woo Ji-hyun would've been bodied.
"Did you have to?"
"We'd have lost sooner without it. You pro or what?"
"Nah. Just played a ton in middle and high school."
Guy looked impressed.
Woo Ji-hyun wasn't just a forward—a scorer, hard-carrying rookies.
"Amateur leagues?"
"Haha. No time with writing. Busy otherwise."
"Oh."
Guy realized his dumb question.
Forgot Woo Ji-hyun's job.
"Oppa!"
"You killed it!"
"Thanks for dinner!"
Guy shoved aside.
Tiramisu swarmed with towels, water—everything.
But Woo Ji-hyun found it overwhelming.
Wanted rest, not this.
"Let's settle up first. Need confirmation to make it official."
"Ahem!"
Heo Gwang-su cleared his throat awkwardly.
Plans busted.
But accepting defeat was coaching.
"Not backing out on a gentleman's word? Cameras rolled the whole time."
"Of course not. Dinner's... on us. A deal's a deal."
"Yes!"
"Best meal ready. No worries. Head to the dorms. Shower first, eat after."
Heo Gwang-su rushed cleanup.
To hustle to lodging.
En route, Woo Ji-hyun got kingly treatment from Tiramisu.
Finally basking in the attention his sisters craved.