I'm Number 3?

"I'm number 3?"

"Ahem. It's not that I can't hit. What I'm doing right now... it's something extremely important."

Seo Ha-yoon's words still lingered in my ears, but I answered as calmly as I could. At my response, she pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and put on a pouty expression.

"Is that so? But you're still not hitting it properly. I know a little about baseball now too. That ball needs to go deep into the outfield, right?"

Uh... that's true, but... how do I explain this? She's not wrong. If anything, it's spot on. And the way it looked on contact was more like a line drive, which is straight-up conventional wisdom in modern baseball.

"Ahem... You still don't quite get it... This is me intentionally fouling it off. To battle tough pitches. Sure, like you said, ripping it deep would be ideal, but that's not my style."

"Aha... Oh! Sorry, I said something a bit harsh."

Yeah. You did. And it's got me a little pissed off now.

"But you're doing something right now! It's gotta be something really important, right?"

"Ahem. Well, it's tough to battle like this in a real game right away, but if I master it later, the fans will love it."

I spoke confidently, and Seo Ha-yoon's eyes widened as she gave this ambiguous reaction, like she was uncrossing her arms but not quite.

"For real? Hmmmm... Okay, I'll trust you."

She nodded, and I let out a small sigh of relief. Good, she seemed a bit calmer now.

Come to think of it, something occurred to me. "But... why'd you come all the way here instead of heading home?"

"I just heard the noise and came to check. I was surprised someone was training at this hour. But... it was you?"

She peered closely at my face and continued. "Didn't you say you come in early? And now you're staying late to train... You coming in early tomorrow too?"

I hesitated for a moment before answering honestly. "Yeah. I'll go home, catch a quick nap, and come right back."

"Whoa... The team's struggling again, so you're grinding hard, huh? Guess I need to step it up too."

"It's not because the team's struggling. It's because I'm in a dangerous spot."

At my words, Seo Ha-yoon's eyes sparkled as she tilted her head. "Ooh~ Kinda tsundere vibe? I figured you'd say it was for the team, but you straight-up said it's for yourself? Still... it's cool."

She continued in a voice that was playful but laced with sincerity. "Seeing you like this... I can feel this passion that's hard for me to understand."

No... it's not passion. I'm just doing this because I'm fucked otherwise...

"Getting to see this up close... makes me glad I'm a cheerleader."

Hmm... She's getting excited over nothing. Still, it didn't feel bad. But right now, I needed to focus.

I deliberately looked away and said, "Anyway. I gotta practice. You should head out."

Seo Ha-yoon lifted the corner of her mouth slightly and took a step back. "Okay~ But don't stay too late."

"Yeah. I'll handle it."

I gave a short reply and turned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back toward the pitching machine. I hit the button again, and as the machine whirred to life, the sound of balls firing echoed through the stadium.

The next day, I headed to the stadium even earlier on purpose. I fired up the pitching machine at that ungodly hour and battled the erratic pitches from the ancient machine. After personal training and then team practice, my body was completely wrecked.

As I sat on the bench catching my breath, lost in those thoughts, the lineup was announced. I went to check, and as expected, my name wasn't in the starting lineup.

But something even more eye-catching jumped out. Today's lineup was almost entirely backups. Players who usually warmed the bench were all starting.

I muttered while staring at the lineup sheet. "...Whoa. This lineup's wild."

It was so awkward—key starters were mysteriously absent, one after another.

Gu Min-seok sunbae, who was stretching right next to me, turned his head as if he'd heard. "Hu-seong."

"Yes, sunbae."

"You know what this is?"

I scanned the lineup sheet again, but no clear hints jumped out. "No idea."

Gu Min-seok sunbae chuckled and tapped the sheet with his finger. "It's a showcase. Out in the open. Didn't expect them to go this blatant, though? They must be desperate."

My eyes widened at that. "Then won't other teams figure it out? Seems like it'd put us at a disadvantage..."

"Eh... That's for teams fighting for position. When a 9th-place team does this, most folks think... tanking?"

Oh? Could be.

Makes sense. A sudden big shake-up... and mostly young backups...

"Of course, that's not our intention, but from the outside, it could look that way. Teams needing strategic reinforcements to climb higher might even like it."

Gu Min-seok sunbae shrugged nonchalantly and kept going. But it hit me then.

"But... they're not showcasing the real rookies?"

"Why? Worried? Rookies are a pain to deal with, so our team doesn't usually. We could bring some in, sure."

"Huh?"

"Trades often involve cash deals, right? But you can't do cash with rookies, so we skip 'em. Plus, you're on the rise right now, and you've definitely caught the manager's eye. Might get dealt next year! But not this year."

Hmm... Is that how it works?

"What, already wanna bounce? Got a dream team?"

...?

"Spill if you do. Not judging. Just curious."

I thought for a second. "Uh... Gwangju Pigeons...?"

"You little shit. You actually thought it through. Eyes are open now. You can quit pretending. Great to see such sound thinking. Local teams have their downsides with popularity, but upsides too."

"Haha... No, sunbae. Got good hyungs here—I should stick around. If I go, it'll be as a big FA."

"That's the second-most healthy mindset. Eyes fully open."

...Some misunderstanding... Or is it right? Whatever. I'm beat—time to rest.

"I'm pretty wiped, so I'll... rest up. Training took it out of me..."

"Go for it."

I was quietly hiding away to recover when a sudden commotion made me look up.

"Aaaah!! My ankle..."

It was Lee Sang-hyeon sunbae. He'd apparently twisted his foot stepping wrong in the locker room and was clutching his right ankle, face twisted in pain.

Staff rushed over, coaches scrambling to check him out. "He won't be able to play."

The trainer's diagnosis froze the room. Then Kim Young-ho manager scanned the outfielders and barked, "Anyone in the outfield up for it?"

His gaze locked dead on me, exhausted as I was. "Hmm... Kim Hu-seong. Let's see you in the outfield for once."

What? Outfield? Suddenly? I was trying to rest...

"Fixing the injury submission now. Just swapping Lee Sang-hyeon in right."

"Got it."

My name quickly filled the spot where Lee Sang-hyeon sunbae's had been.

What? And number 3?

I could only stiffen my expression staring at the scoreboard. On top of that, slotted into the heart of the order I'd never even touched before...

And now outfield after forever? Tension gripped my whole body in an instant.

I'm screwed... Exhausted, and this happens out of nowhere...

The opposing pitcher was Suwon Eagles' third starter, Park Jun-seo. A domestic ace-type with top-tier velocity, control, and experience. He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was starting today, dominating from the jump, and our team couldn't rattle him at all.

In that flow, me—beat to hell—stepping up third? Honestly, not easy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at all.

The opponent had easily retired the two ahead of me. I took a deep breath and gripped the bat tight.

Then Lee Seo-jin's commentary filtered through the broadcast.

Before the commentary finished, Park Jun-seo fired the first pitch. Fast, sharp corner. I let it go. Strike.

Business as usual. But maybe because of that bunt before, the infield seemed extra locked in. Even in a game we're pounding the pitcher?

Hmm... Second pitch came. Another fastball stabbing the zone hard. I watched again.

Two red lights. Yeah... That's what I practiced for. Let's do this.

I lowered my stance, repeating it to myself. Third pitch. Diving in low, then dropping. I extended the bat and barely clipped it.

Tick!

Fourth pitch, similar trajectory. Deeper this time, but I twisted away and fouled it off. Thwack!

"Oh? Fouling off in a row. Tough spot physically, but great focus."

Lee Seo-jin commentator noted admiringly from the booth. Park Jun-seo seemed surprised too, catching his breath and adjusting his cap.

I didn't miss the gap, resetting my stance...

Another low-breaking ball. Clearly baiting a whiff, but honed by that old pitching machine, I hung in there.

I twisted my swing path and clipped it. Nearly dropped the bat, but fouled it successfully. Tick!

Kim Hu-seong fouling off the eighth pitch!

Whew... Almost lost the bat. I glanced gratefully at the opposing pitcher.

Park Jun-seo stared back with a stiff expression, and behind him, the scoreboard showed 10 pitches already thrown.

He'd dispatched the two prior hitters on three pitches each, but now he was into double digits.