A Lucky Day?
As I stepped back up to first base, I could feel the opposing pitcher and catcher’s eyes change. Both were glaring at me with tense, rigid faces, as if they were hyper-aware of me—like I might steal at any second.
Haa… this is killing me…
But I had no intention of stealing. Earlier, the macaron had given me the energy to push it, but not now. My instincts told me forcing it would be a bad idea.
Well… let’s see how this plays out…
“Now that Choi Kang-hyuk’s out, right? Right-handers are more vulnerable to steals.”
I deliberately took a half-step lead off first base, slow and casual. Not a steal lead—just enough that I couldn’t look sloppy standing right next to the bag. But I could see the pitcher’s gaze lock onto me completely.
Ah… he’s way too focused on me. Should I mess with him a little?
I edged a bit toward second, widening my lead like I might go. Of course, no running for me. Just as I faked a lead and turned to head back…
As expected, the pitcher fired to first. A quick pickoff. But I was already half-turned toward the bag. No panic retreat—I’d planned to return anyway, so I jogged back easily. The ball smacked into the glove, but my foot was already on the base.
No chance of being out.
The caster’s voice rose immediately at the play.
“Pitcher picks off, but he returns with plenty of time to spare!”
“Kim Hu-seong’s a master at this psychological game. So savvy—like a veteran out there.”
Lee Seo-jin, the commentator, broke it down.
“He’s reading exactly how much the pitcher’s keyed in on him. Even without running, he’s always ready to react, so he handles pickoffs like this effortlessly. He’s a real fox now.”
The bench sign came next. Sacrifice bunt?
Ah… quick death it is.
I nodded as Gu Min-seok gripped his bat short, widening my lead a touch to prepare. My body still felt heavy, but there was no time to think in a spot like this. If the bunt rolled, I was going to second, no question.
Shiiiik. Thud.
The ball off Gu Min-seok’s bat rolled awkwardly, more than expected—tumbling toward the catcher, practically at his feet.
Oh, this is dicey.
Safe at first? Nah. The catcher scooped it quick and… threw to second instead of first.
Damn it—what the hell? Just take the safe out at first!
I’d planned to stroll in safe, but plans changed. I kicked it into gear and slid.
“Ack!”
The catcher’s throw was fast but off-line. And crucially, MacPhis shortstop McFice wasn’t ready. He dove for the bag, but his glove was poorly positioned—the ball hit and skipped behind him.
Shit…
In that instant, I decided. Stopping now would hurt. Or more like, if I halted at second after their error, everyone would think something was off. With the miscue already in play, I had to grab an extra base.
I kept my sliding momentum, popped up, and bolted for third. Legs aching, body heavy, but I gritted my teeth.
The center fielder rushed in, eyeing third for a throw. But right then, Gu Min-seok broke for second. Daejeon MacPhis’ center fielder Jeong Min-ho hesitated, brain spinning.
Third’s 50/50… but then second’s wide open too. Relay play instead…
He chose relay to second over third.
No—Kim Hu-seong’s fast… relay’s right…
The ball went to second. Meanwhile, I slid hard into third.
Haa… damn…
On the slide into third, I whipped my head to glare at the catcher. On purpose. No words needed—my eyes said it all: See what your choice just did? And who it favored?
Lee Seo-jin didn’t miss it.
“Kim Hu-seong’s staring down the catcher right now. That’ll shatter his mentality. It’s like saying, ‘You see this?’—a subtle taunt.”
“Huh? A taunt?”
The caster sounded puzzled.
“Replay’ll show it, but… yes! Look. Kim Hu-seong could’ve been safe at second ages ago with his speed. But…”
Lee Seo-jin paused for effect.
“He’s slow. The lead-off was wide, sure, but on a sac bunt? No way he lumbers like that. It threw the catcher off. ‘This is doable?’”
“Ah…!”
“So when the catcher fires to second, Kim Hu-seong accelerates. Slides safe himself and saves the runner. Clutch play.”
“Would he have been out on a perfect throw?”
“50/50? Worse than that. Look—pure fox in there, cunning as hell.”
Daejeon MacPhis’ dugout stirred first. Cut the momentum before it fully shifted. Pitcher change—another closer, Jeong Ji-ho, took the mound.
Jeong Ji-ho was a two-pitch guy like Mun Chan-sik: fastball and slider. Simple, devastating combo. His fastball sat mid-150s—slower than Mun—but his slider early 140s, with pinpoint control. Balls didn’t wander outside the zone; they hit his spots. Felt way tougher in practice.
Kim Han-seong stepped up, but Jeong Ji-ho carved him. Fastball for a strike, slider to gain count leverage, fastball to finish. Han-seong whiffed on three pitches.
One out.
But Gu Min-seok moved. Read the catcher’s throw timing perfectly and bolted to second. Quick decision, late throw. Runners now on second and third, one out.
MacPhis decided: no matchup with cleanup hitter Son Tae-ho. Not a single pitch near the zone—Son walked.
Bases loaded. But they’d face the next guy, Jeong I-hoon, instead.
Jeong I-hoon had the pedigree to explode anytime. Mid-.300s hitter last three years. This season? Bulking up, swing tweaks—down to low .300s. Still dangerous.
But Jeong Ji-ho exploited it. Low slider induced grounder. Hard contact off Jeong I-hoon’s bat, bad angle. Rolled third-base side—straight double play. Inning over, empty.
No runs.
Damn… all that chaos for runners left loaded?
Ughhh…
I dragged back to the dugout, spent. No gas left, honestly. One thought in my head: Get to the locker room, scarf those macarons. Recharge for defense somehow.
I turned for the tunnel—someone grabbed me from behind.
“Kim Hu-seong!”
“Yes?”
Son Tae-ho.
He locked me in a headlock.
“Hey! You killed it out there.”
“Uh… thanks?”
“But no long face just ‘cause we didn’t score, got it?”
“No, it’s not—”
“I know, I know. C’mon, let’s fight on! I grabbed your glove. Let’s go! Hustle!”
Wait—no! I needed to explain!
No chance. He shoved me back out to the field.
Screwed… how’d it come to this…
Panicked, legs like lead, I shuffled to shortstop. Game wouldn’t wait.
Meantime, Turkeys swapped pitchers. Who? Right—Kim Do-yoon, called up from Double-A. Risky as a closer test, but they’d burned the pen already. Options limited.
Please… hold it together.
Luckily, Kim Do-yoon started strong. Struck out leadoff hitter Kim Seung-min: fastball strike, off-speed whiff. Three pitches.
Nice. Keep it going.
Next up hurt. No. 3 hitter Ha Tae-gyun lined a single to right. Runner to first easy.
Then cleanup Hong Je-ju. Crack! Cleaner hit—split center and right, runner to third.
Runners on first and third. Just like that.
Haa… shit…
Top of the seventh, crisis hit fast again.