Pigeons Killer Returns
"Oh, you're pretty proactive, huh? You almost got my heart racing there."
As I buckled her seatbelt, Kim Se-rin the cheerleader said it with a slightly flushed smile. Good, I managed to shift the mood. What a relief. My fingertips had tensed up unnecessarily, so I clicked the buckle into place and slowly pulled my hand away.
But Kim Se-rin glanced sideways at me with a casual sweep, then tossed out nonchalantly, "You must give a lot of rides to girls. You're so smooth about it?"
What? Calling me out like that? My breath caught for a second. The vibe that had just settled turned into a pop quiz with those words alone. Still, I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible.
"Women... I've given my mom a ride before."
"You don't buckle her seatbelt like this."
"Uh... yeah, true."
Air was getting thick. Kim Se-rin tilted her head slightly. Sigh.What now? Then, pretending to dig through her memories, she lifted the corner of her mouth and continued. "Oh! Who's this who sat here? Ah! Seo Ha-yoon, right? Or not?"
Her name? Out of nowhere? Cold sweat prickled down my spine. Sure, Seo Ha-yoon had ridden in this car... a lot? As my silence dragged on, Kim Se-rin narrowed her eyes and tapped my arm with her finger.
"Don't lie."
I surrendered. Awkwardly smiling, I nodded. "Yeah. But I never buckled her in. You're the first, noona."
"Oh. Now you're smooth-talking for real."
That was when I noticed the fuel gauge. Low on gas.
"Ah..."
I'd rushed here today and forgotten. "Noona... sorry, but can we get some gas? I—"
Then it hit me. Money. I was broke. Not just tapped out from the self-funded U.S. training—I'd drilled right through the bottom.
My mind blanked for a second, but dragging it out would just make it more embarrassing, so I came clean. "Noona, um... I'm flat broke right now. Could you spot me?"
Kim Se-rin's eyes went wide. "Huh? Why are you broke?"
"It's... complicated. I even went into debt on my own dime for training, so yeah, zero cash."
She stared at my face for a few seconds, then asked like she couldn't believe it. "For real?"
Letting out a sound that was half sigh, half laugh, Kim Se-rin opened her bag, pulled out her card wallet. "Got it. Here. Let's go."
She scanned me up and down once more, adding playfully, "Want me to buy you dinner too?"
...My pride... "Beef?"
Damn. I needed to bulk up, and beef...
I couldn't say it out loud, so I just nodded.
"Hahaha. How are you always this cute, Hu-seong?"
With that, Kim Se-rin nodded decisively. "Alright. Beef it is. Least I can do for the ride."
I ended up at a solid BBQ spot with Kim Se-rin. The place screamed regular crowd favorite, and when she opened the door, the owner greeted her like an old hand—definitely her local haunt.
Didn't know they had a gem like this nearby...
"Here."
We sat, and she skimmed the menu with a slightly apologetic look. "I wanted to treat you to ribeye like the pros get, but I'm a pork girl. That cool?"
"Yeah, of course. It's whatever the treater's craving."
She chuckled softly and ordered pork belly and neck.
As the grill fired up and water glasses sat in place of soju, Kim Se-rin set down her chopsticks and looked me straight in the eye.
"But earlier... that broke thing. Spill the details? I'm curious."
I hesitated briefly, but no point hiding now. I summed up the saga as concisely as possible.
Contrary to expectations of a long tale, her chopsticks froze at the salary contract part.
"What? You... 90 million won?"
Face screaming disbelief. Kim Se-rin knew her baseball enough to grasp my market value roughly.
"Hold up, so the 'up to 200 million'..."
I flipped the meat with a wry smile. "Actual take-home's 80 mil. Rest is incentives. Knee injury, but stolen base bonuses like this. No homers ever, but homer bonuses like that. You know."
"Hmm... Classic Turkeys. Great facilities, but so damn cheap on players."
I glanced at the sizzling meat and blurted, "That's why they're my second-favorite team from behind."
Her eyes widened. "Second? Who's first...?"
"Who else?"
Kim Se-rin paused, then nodded as it clicked. "Ah... Pigeons. But you're good now, right? Homered off a major leaguer. Perfect revenge game coming up?"
"Revenge game?"
"Yeah. Opening series against Pigeons. Two games. You didn't know?"
...?
Oh! Pigeons first up again? Blood started boiling.
"But that was badass. How'd you even build that power?"
I plated some meat with my chopsticks, answering coolly. "Lots of practice. Still a ways to go."
She narrowed her eyes with a smile. "Humble much? Pulled that off in no time."
"Exactly... How do you pull that off so quick?"
"Huh?"
The next day, I headed to Gwangju early for the Pigeons matchup, rested up, then jumped into pre-game training.
Wiping sweat near the batting cage, the hitting coach strode over and clapped my shoulder.
"Hu-seong!"
Whoa!
"Yeah? Coach."
I masked the jump and replied steadily. "How many swings you want?"
...?
I blanked, staring at his face. I pick?
"I can choose?"
He nodded like duh. "Yeah. How many?"
Might as well try the back ones? "Ah! No 6, 7, 8, 9."
Damn... Reading my mind?
"Then number one?"
His eyes widened a bit. "Hm? Number one?"
He tilted his head, then nodded. "Ah! U.S. trip changed you... Makes sense. Craving a power leadoff spot?"
No, just habit... Whatever, think what you want.
"Leadoff it is. Tell the skipper?"
"Yeah. If he okays."
Pressure...
The coach nodded like he'd unlocked a secret, patted my back, and headed to the manager. I returned to the cage for light swings.
After team and fielding drills, as we hit the clubhouse, Gwangju Pigeons fans started filing in.
Every time I passed, murmurs rippled from the stands. I kept my face stone-cold through training.
...Grit teeth. Faking my ass... I busted my hump over that...
The crowd's chatter fired me up. Can't play nice with these guys.
Away team drills wrapped, opening ceremony kicked off. I watched silently, waiting for my moment.
Anthem done, top of the first underway.
I geared up, bat in hand, trudged to the plate.
Player intros rolled. I glared at Gwangju Pigeons' ace starter Thompson on the mound.
I swung the bat loosely to check feel. Solid. Set my stance, eyed Thompson again.
Faced him a few times before, but righty view felt different from lefty.
Thompson took the sign, nodded. I drew a short breath.
First-pitch fastball guy. Easy.
Stadium hushed.
I pointed my index finger skyward, circled the bases.