Chapter 180
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 180
Chapter Title: The Captain's Fracture
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Lately, Kim Ijin had been flawless in every conceivable way.
"Our ace is the best!"
"No one can match Ijin when it comes to individual skills."
Ever since her high school basketball days, she'd heard nothing but praise from teammates and coaches alike—talented and hardworking to boot.
But how many people actually rate themselves as "overflowing with talent" or "the epitome of diligence"?
Like everyone else, she had wished she could be just a little better.
Taller, stronger, smarter. Even more sociable, able to lead the team's chemistry.
And she'd beaten herself up over not trying harder.
Should've practiced more instead of slacking off when it got tough. Should've analyzed game footage when my body wouldn't cooperate!
"How are you not tired after pushing like that?"
"Rest after skill training. You're stressing your joints."
"I'll just do a light warm-down, meditate, and focus on visualization training."
"You really love meditation, huh."
But the Kim Ijin of late was different.
She could now boldly claim to herself that she'd given her absolute best, without a shred of shame.
Attending every team training session diligently was a given.
The moment she had any alone time at the dorm or home, she'd play the audio files the director had sent her.
And afterward, energy surged through her. Her mind cleared.
After just one night's sleep, the previous day's fatigue vanished completely, leaving her feeling reborn in body and spirit every single day.
Conveniently, there were no mandatory dorm stays during the off-season.
Kim Ijin headed home whenever she could.
Combined with her training, every day felt profoundly fulfilling.
"Heard the Japan training camp schedule's set?"
Last season, she'd only just entered the league via the draft and hadn't started right away.
She'd come off the bench when the coach called, subbing in occasionally to help recover starters' stamina or shift the momentum.
In those moments, Kim Ijin had shone brilliantly.
It was all but certain she'd be a starter when the new season kicked off.
"Is that so?"
"Thinking of building the strategy around you this time."
"Pardon?"
But wasn't centering everything on Kim Ijin a bit much?
Even with her peak condition, she still had that rookie vibe.
BUK already had veterans who'd been syncing up for years...
The captain, now accustomed to Kim Ijin's formal speech, flashed a bright smile as she explained.
"I really want to beat Osaka. We're going for the element of surprise."
Domestic teams rarely scrimmaged each other during the off-season.
No sense exposing strategies or rosters unnecessarily.
Instead, they played closed-door games against college teams or overseas squads.
Osaka, in particular, was a sister team they'd been exchanging with for years.
"We used to have the edge in win rates, but... since I joined, we haven't beaten them in final standings once."
Out of five games during training camps, they'd barely snag one or two wins.
The captain, Yi Sora, gritted her teeth, admitting the team's strength was just a tad—ever so slightly—lacking.
"I see."
Kim Ijin wasn't surprised at all.
Japan's pro league was bigger, and their national team had been excelling in world competitions lately.
BUK was top-tier domestically, but Osaka was just that good.
"That's why this time, we're going full aggression."
Korean basketball, for both men and women, tended toward aggressive play—fast breaks, transition attacks, score-focused.
Japan, by contrast, emphasized structured defense and team play.
"We're not that aggressive domestically, right? Fans complain we're too conservative. We've been losing with similar strategies. But now we've got the ultimate power forward!"
True to her words, Busan hadn't gone all-out offensively; threes from distance had made up a big chunk of their scoring.
"We're experimenting ahead of the season start, so no pressure."
Of course, Kim Ijin threw herself into strategy meetings.
She contributed ideas while reviewing footage and was incredibly proactive in team drills.
Then came the overseas camp and their first practice game.
"105-42!"
They won.
By double digits, no less.
It was unprecedented since partnering with Osaka.
"Wooooaaah!"
"Insane! How many points did you score solo? You're our ace starting today!"
"This can't be real! No way!"
The seniors, burning with rivalry just moments ago, were now hyped, showering Kim Ijin with praise.
Too good. Perfect. Our team's treasure.
Hearing it nonstop, Kim Ijin's lips couldn't help but curve upward.
"Thanks to all of you passing to me so much. I'll keep honing my skills to seize every opportunity."
Kim Ijin lived up to it.
Even during camp, she'd slip away at every break to catch her breath.
Her athletic ability really has improved.
This wasn't mere placebo from mental peace.
The director had said effects would build gradually over years, but her changes were night-and-day, day by day.
"Guess I gotta step it up too. Championship this season, no question!"
Kim Ijin's exploits fired up the veterans.
"No jealousy anymore, just straight-up respect."
Myeong Seonju confessed out of the blue, stone-cold sober.
"Arrrgh! I'm jealous as hell! So envious~~~! Why'd heaven make Yi Sora and Kim Ijin?!"
"Ah, Captain! You're not even our generation! You've been 'once-in-a-generation genius' for a decade—plenty smug points banked!"
"I'm just honored to share the court with you."
Awkward on how to respond, but the vibe stayed golden.
The next day, with Kim Ijin at the helm, the team kept surging.
Osaka couldn't keep up.
"Hey, hey-!"
Fake a shot with a pump, then look to pass.
But her body felt amazing.
One leap, and she could probably clear that defender's head?
The thought flashed, and Kim Ijin soared.
"Woooah!"
"How many centimeters was that?"
"Rewind the video later and measure!"
How many super plays in one game?
"Korea's hyper-aggressive style is incredible."
Even the Japanese players were awestruck.
Kim Ijin's plays grew bolder.
The taboo of the near-rookie overstepping and harming chemistry? Shattered.
The game revolved around her now, teammates supporting with fearless physicality.
Beep-.
Timeout called from their side.
The coach, whom she'd expected to say "keep it up," urged calm instead: "Too fast, ease up."
"Need a sub? You okay?"
Incredibly, she wasn't winded at all.
Breathing steady.
Every muscle breathing with her.
The game's flow felt in her grasp.
Moments even felt like the world slowed.
Everything perfect.
Then disaster struck.
Last day of camp, final scrimmage.
Amid testing strategies, Kim Ijin dominated.
But the veterans were elite too.
Captain Yi Sora especially—top mark to watch, researched inside out, home and abroad.
Every time the ball went to Yi Sora, triple-team defense swarmed.
Even she was boxed in.
Normally, she'd force a three or crash for the rebound.
But this time, she rode Kim Ijin's momentum.
Shwooo-.
Yi Sora leaped; two defenders stretched arms.
But she didn't shoot.
Aimed to slip sideways through the gap.
In basketball, every shift—attack to defense, pass to shot—is lightning-quick.
Relies on skill and split-second judgment.
Yi Sora, mid-pivot, missed the incoming defender from behind.
Kwaaaang!
Dodging collision, she landed wrong and tumbled hard.
"Captain!"
"You okay?"
Beep beep-.
Sub in.
Player injuries were routine.
Replacement entered; game continued.
Captain!
Kim Ijin's focus wavered briefly, but not enough to derail.
Momentum dipped, but victory held.
Camp results: perfect.
"Swelling and bruising are severe."
"Doesn't hurt that much..."
Last day anyway; planned hospital post-return.
Imaging results:
"It's cracked. Fracture."
"Whaaat?!"
"How long to heal?"
"No set time. Minimum eight weeks; poor healers take six months."
Nooooo!
Yi Sora wailed leaving the hospital.
No choice but rest—unless ending her career.
Couldn't play on a cracked leg anyway.
"Season's right there—what the hell? I'm losing it."
"Bad luck. Nothing for it..."
Because of me.
Kim Ijin swallowed her guilt.
"If it heals fast, maybe mid-season return."
"What is this nonsense."
"We were championship-bound!"
Yi Sora's injury and downtime bred unease in the team.
"Hey, calm down. They said it can heal quick if you're healthy. Sora unnie will bounce back."
One month later.
Re-exam.
"Exactly the same. No healing at all."
Doctor showed two X-rays.
Zero bone union.
"Anything we can do?"
"Immobilize and wait. If displaced or shattered, surgery—but hairline needs time."
Nutraceuticals for bone growth.
Avoid certain foods.
No miracles.
"Can't we try something? Just sitting is torture!"
Athletes whose effort equaled results.
Rehab they'd take—but total inaction? Maddening.
Yi Sora zoning on old footage; teammates consoling, all frustrated.
"How about bone-setting soup?"
Coach piped up.
"Bone-setting soup? That exists?"
"Yeah. My grandma swore by it for compression fracture. Worked great."
"Captain, looked it up—speeds healing double! Big difference!"
"Really?"
Internet mixed studies and hype, but options beat despair.
"Should've started sooner! Ijin, that Korean clinic last time—think they'll prescribe it?"
"Probably. Let's go."
So that's what happened.
Yi Sora explained with a bright laugh that faltered midway; Kim Ijin had entered the exam room with a grim face.
"Ugh, torn ligaments before, but first fracture. And I'm the slow-healer type!"
Yi Sora fumed.
Pre-season injury—totally understandable frustration.
Good thing they came.
In this world, few Korean docs had seen as many fractures as me.
Unlike modern times, fractures were daily in the murim world.
How many warriors sought Sichuan Tang Family's special bone-setting soup, in and out of the clan?