The ball went up into the air.
I let it bounce off my knee and lifted it again. One, two, three… on the fourth juggling touch, it hit awkwardly on the top of my foot and rolled away.
"Damn it…!"
I chased after it, the timer already counting down: 09:47.
The sound of that red countdown sent chills through me. It was just a floating screen, but it felt like the gaze of every coach and teammate who'd ever doubted me. As if the whole world was saying: "You won't make it."
I grabbed the ball again, took a deep breath.
"Focus, Han Jae-Hyun… you've done this before. But now it means more than everything."
I tossed the ball into the air. One. Two. Three. Four. Five… dropped it again. This time I managed to stop it with my thigh before it got too far. But every time the ball hit my foot, it shot off in a different direction.
Sweat was already dripping down my forehead. The cold night mixed with the heat of adrenaline made my chest tighten.
[09:22]
I had to be lighter, more controlled. Couldn't smack the ball into the air like I used to as a kid. I remembered those matches in the alley, where the wall was the only backboard. If you missed there, the ball would land in a vacant lot and only God knew where it would end up.
I picked up the ball one more time.
"Slow… easy…"
I threw it up. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…
The top of my foot… the right spot for control.
Eight. Nine. Ten…
The ball started responding. Almost like it could sense something was different.
Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen…
On the fourteenth, I mistimed it, sent the ball too high, and dropped it again.
[08:49]
I was panting.
Only fourteen. And the timer… nearly a minute gone.
"Shit…"
Frustration burned. I wanted to scream, punch the ground, chuck the ball across the court. But the screen was there. Staring at me. As if it was saying, "Gonna give up again, loser?"
And I couldn't.
I grabbed the ball, tossed it up again. One, two, three… twenty. Dropped. Again. Another thirty. Dropped.
[07:10]
My heart felt like a jackhammer in my chest. Legs starting to get heavy. But I wasn't stopping. Not now.
[06:55]
I started to notice a pattern. When I hit with the top of my foot, keeping my ankle locked, the ball rose straighter. If I let the ankle loose, it veered off. Tiny details. Stuff no one had ever taught me.
After all… no one ever thought I was worth teaching.
And that's why I was going to learn the hard way.
[05:20]
Fifty juggles. My foot already ached. Sweat stung my eyes. But I made it.
[04:00]
Seventy-eight. The ball bounced off my knee, flew off. I dove and managed to save it before it touched the ground.
My breathing came ragged. My lungs burned.
[03:30]
A hundred.
Halfway. And my body already at its limit.
But something was different. The sound of the world felt muffled. The wind, the cold, the exhaustion… it all vanished.
It was just me, the ball, and that cursed countdown.
[02:00]
A hundred and fifty.
My foot hurt. Thighs trembled. The ball escaped, but I chased it down. Missed, started again, faster.
I couldn't explain it, but with every attempt, my body adapted. A little adjustment in the move, a tweak in the ankle, a change in the touch's strength.
It was like some dormant instinct was waking up.
[00:45]
A hundred and ninety.
Every number weighed a ton. I was at my limit. Legs screaming. Arms aching. Head pounding.
But I had one number in my mind.
Two hundred.
[00:25]
Ninety-five.
[00:19]
Ninety-eight.
[00:14]
Ninety-nine.
The ball went up, I struck it with my foot. Two hundred.
[00:09]
[DING]
The screen lit up. The sound filled the empty court.
[Mission complete!]
[Reward: +1 Ball Control | +5 free status points.]
I collapsed on the ground. Flat on my back, panting. Muscles begging for mercy, but my chest… light. Like a ton had been lifted off me.
The screen blinked in front of me.
[Ball Control: 11]
[5 free points available.]
That number… 11. Might mean nothing to anyone else.
But to me… it was the first step.
And for the first time in my life — I had won.
[To be continued]