Chapter 22
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: The Left-Handed Pitcher Equips Velocity
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After the round-of-eight victory, the baseball club room.
"Song Hyun-jun."
"What."
"What're you doing?"
"Opponent analysis. I'm busy. If you're just gonna spout nonsense, beat it."
Park Jin-woong, yesterday's winning pitcher.
I had no time to listen to this guy bragging like his shoulders could stretch across the Pacific.
There was only one day left until my starting turn in the semifinals.
Not even pulling an all-nighter would be enough for the scouting report.
A sly grin crept across Park Jin-woong's face as he watched me.
"How's it feel?"
"How's what feel."
"Thanks to my hard carry, we made it to the Blue Dragon Cup semifinals. Song Hyun-jun, look at you, moving up in the world."
This punk.
I'd held back on him for mental prep since he was starting in the round of eight, and now he was getting all cocky.
His words instantly awakened the black flame dragon slumbering inside me.
"Hard carry? You got two homers in a row off their cleanup hitter. You calling that a hard carry?"
"......Calling it 'got crushed' is a bit harsh. Minus that fluke homer I gave up, it was a perfect game."
"Fluke? And you call a game where you gave up two homers perfect? Guess the definition changed while I wasn't looking."
That said, yesterday's game.
Park Jin-woong pitched pretty damn well as the starter.
Seven innings, two runs—a quality start plus that led to the team win.
Top velocity: 151.4 km/h.
Spin rate nearing 2,500 rpm with killer power.
Park Jin-woong cooked Yusin High's batters with that nasty fastball.
But there was one exception.
Yusin High's cleanup, Seo Baek-san. His stuff just didn't work on that guy.
Trouble started in the second.
"What's up with Park Jin-woong all of a sudden?"
Murmurs spread through the dugout.
Second inning, defense.
With Yusin High's leadoff cleanup hitter Seo Baek-san at the plate, first pitch coming up—Park Jin-woong froze like he'd seen Medusa.
"Should I go out there?"
It dragged on so long, even the pitching coach stepped in.
"Jin-woong, what's wrong? Why aren't you throwing?"
Lee Deok-gu later told me Park Jin-woong's response when the coach hit the mound.
"......No pitch to throw."
"What?"
"Against that hitter... I got nothing, Coach."
Park Jin-woong looked like he'd lost all confidence right before battle.
Before the game, I'd warned him during scouting—not to slack off on their cleanup.
"Hey, Park Jin-woong. Yusin High's four-hole's batting .533. Slugging 1.367, and holy... OPS 1.9! Seo Baek-san's a monster. What're you gonna do?"
Rumors had trickled in.
Yusin High's cleanup was insane.
Suwon wasn't far from Seoul, so news flowed easy.
"Ah, Seo Baek-san? He's no big deal."
But Park Jin-woong brushed it off, saying he'd faced him as a freshman.
"Just a frog in a well, high off high school girls squealing for him."
"High school girls squealing?"
"Dude's a looker."
"Ah."
Park Jin-woong scowled, dredging up two-year-old memories.
"Picture Shin Su-ho stepping up with a bat. That's the vibe."
"Must be pretty."
"Don't sweat it. I'll smash him."
"Wasn't worried."
"Shut it, Song Hyun-jun. I'll win."
Park Jin-woong, cocky about facing Seo Baek-san pre-game.
Blue Dragon Cup round of eight had TV coverage, I'd heard.
Damn, hope Park Jin-woong doesn't rush it...
That worry lasted less than a day.
"......"
Park Jin-woong on the mound, freezing at the sight of Seo Baek-san in his final high school Blue Dragon Cup stage as a senior.
"Play ball!"
After the coach and Deok-gu left the mound.
Even with the ump's call to resume, he hesitated awhile.
Then the first pitch.
Everyone knew in that instant.
A monstrous hit sound.
"Whoa...!"
"Ah...!"
Gasps erupted on their own.
Luckily a foul just past the left-field homer line, smashing the upper deck.
And the scoreboard velocity.
His top speed.
Park Jin-woong, hailed for high school top-tier power.
Seo Baek-san turned his max-effort heater into a potential homer.
Seo Baek-san.
Nearly 190 cm of freakish hardware.
Sculpted nose, jawline, eyes gleaming like crystal—a hitter carved from marble.
Like a manga protagonist.
Team ace Shin Su-ho, watching from right beside, gave a curt take.
"Batter's good."
Agreed.
Gulp.
Every pitcher in the dugout swallowed dryly under the tension.
Couldn't help projecting onto Park Jin-woong facing him.
Seo Baek-san's plate pressure was that intense.
"Hm... Swing was a bit early."
Seo Baek-san settled back after a quick read.
Then the fiery duel between Park Jin-woong and Seo Baek-san ignited.
"Ball!"
"Foul."
"Ball."
"Ball."
The battle dragged to the tenth pitch.
"Huff... huff."
Park Jin-woong pulled out rarely used breaking balls, mixing speeds with his fastball to induce swings-and-misses.
No dice.
Full count before they knew it.
We could feel it.
Every pitch from Park Jin-woong was getting stuffed by Seo Baek-san.
"...All right!"
Still, Park Jin-woong chose a power confrontation over an outside miss.
A man's choice.
But the result stung.
The moment Park Jin-woong's pitch met Seo Baek-san's bat.
Everyone watching knew.
"It's gone."
"Homer."
Seo Baek-san's homer blast.
Park Jin-woong buckled down after, handling the rest fine, but in the fifth, one out, facing Seo Baek-san again—he coughed up another homer.
We were up 5-2, so not fatal.
Just... Park Jin-woong's face after that second homer was ugly.
"......Hah...!"
Head down on the mound after the second bomb to Seo Baek-san.
He handled the rest, but heading into the eighth, another Seo Baek-san showdown—Manager pulled him.
"Su-ho, you're up."
"Yes, sir."
From the eighth, mound duty went to the team's guardian deity and ace, Shin Su-ho.
Big hopes he'd handle what Park Jin-woong couldn't.
But.
Thwack!
"Foul."
First pitch.
Scoreboard clocked 157.5 km/h.
Yusin High's cleanup fouled it off.
Then the Shin Su-ho vs. Seo Baek-san battle.
"Ball."
"Swing, strike two!"
"Ball."
"Foul!"
"Foul!"
"Foul!"
"Ball."
The at-bat flowed weirdly.
Ten pitches, echoing Park Jin-woong's duel.
Team ace, nation's top gun, Shin Su-ho.
Even his signature 159 km/h heater—Seo Baek-san fouled them all.
Thwack!!
Fouls so meaty it was a miracle they stayed fair.
Even Shin Su-ho struggling drew everyone's eyes.
"Whoa...!"
"Insane...!"
The eleventh pitch showdown.
"Hm."
Sudden smirk from Shin Su-ho as he fired toward Seo Baek-san.
And the result.
Whoosh!!
"Swing! Strike! Batter out!"
Seo Baek-san's whiff, ump's strike-three call.
Seo Baek-san stared at Shin Su-ho on the mound, baffled.
"......Forkball?"
Spot on.
The pitch that fanned Seo Baek-san: a fork that rode four-seam trajectory then dived hard.
"Song Hyun-jun. Teach me that fork too."
That forkball.
Truth was, he'd learned it from me the day before.
"What? Forkball?"
"Heard Park Jin-woong asking you for the fork grip."
"Oh, that. Coach Jo Jong-hoon taught me. Better learn direct, right?"
"Nah. Want the fork from you, Hyun-jun."
Shin Su-ho wanted to learn from me?
He was a monster rival, but one fork wouldn't shift the balance.
Impossible to catch up to that freak anyway.
So I taught him.
"Threw it in a real game after one day...? Shin Su-ho's a real monster."
Thanks to Shin Su-ho's new fork, Yusin High folded easy.
7-2 win.
"Without the fork, he'd have at least singled."
"That good?"
"Instinctively crushed my heat."
Shin Su-ho's honest take after facing him.
"Thanks."
"Huh?"
"That fork you taught me, Hyun-jun? Solid. Won because of it."
Team ace Shin Su-ho's grateful gaze as he thanked me.
Embarrassing, but felt good.
Anyway, his words confirmed it.
"Blue Dragon Cup main draw's full of real geniuses..."
The hitters I'd faced so far.
Deokyang High's cleanup Kang Cheol-woo, Gyeongin High's four-hole.
None had Seo Baek-san's aura.
"Semifinal opponent: Busan High."
That's why.
Soon as Manager announced, I dove into Busan High batters' scouting.
Plus, schooling the yapping Park Jin-woong trying mental gymnastics beside me.
"Park Jin-woong, you got shelled by Seo Baek-san on national TV."
"......'Shelled' is rude."
"And that clip's up on YouTube forever. What now?"
"......Son of a. Why tell me now? How do I delete a YouTube vid?"
"Call YouTube HQ, ask 'em to take it down."
"On it, calling now!"
"Good luck."
Park Jin-woong nuisance neutralized.
I headed straight to Manager.
"Manager, Busan High cleanup stats look wrong."
"What? Who?"
"This Baek Kang-ho guy. Only seven games logged... but 15 homers and .700 average?"
Had to be a glitch.
Seven games, 15 bombs, seven batting? Impossible.
"Ah, Baek Kang-ho."
Shin Su-ho, arriving then, answered instead.
"Pitched last year too, looks like he's full-time hitter now."
"What?"
"Good luck."
Shin Su-ho clapped my shoulder encouragingly.
Kid acting weird?
Then Manager's hand on my other shoulder.
"Yeah, good luck, Hyun-jun."
"Manager?"
"If Baek Kang-ho's tough, I'll signal intentional walk... Just skip him."
Game hadn't even started, and Manager was already plotting IBBs?
Meant those stats were real.
"What is it with all these geniuses in this tiny country?"
Grumbling under breath, I prepped hard for Busan High.
"Mixed sundae soup!"
Dumped all remaining points into power.
Power permanently +1.
Can't raise stats with this item anymore.
Power hit its limit now too.
"Perfect timing."
Didn't matter.
No points left anyway—no more velocity or power potions.
"Starting this semifinal, gotta farm points proper."
With that in mind.
Looping footage of every Busan High batter, including cleanup Baek Kang-ho.
One conviction hit.
"Baek Kang-ho... ain't human...? Did that kid chug power potions or what...?"
Now I got why Manager said skip him.
Massive frame, tiger eyes.
Four-seam, two-seam, sinker, cutter, slider, curve, changeup, fork.
Lightning swings on every pitch, no matter the type.
Insane contact skills.
Baek Kang-ho felt different from any hitter I'd seen.
"Few more points would've helped... No choice. Handle Baek Kang-ho different."
Prepped thoroughly.
Had Park Jin-woong and Shin Su-ho's Seo Baek-san examples.
To avoid that on the mound, prep was key.
"Baek Kang-ho, hm... Baek Kang-ho."
Gotsta overcome.
This genius batter I'd never faced—distant region.
For the growing eyes on me.
To sign pro, survive against the big leagues.
Must win.
"Play ball!!"
Busan High semifinal underway.
Venue: Mokdong Stadium.
Paid crowds filling stands decently.
Broadcast cams rolling.
Ignored it all, took the mound.
"Hyun-jun turns demon the second he's on the mound."
"How?"
"Full oni mode."
Teammates' whispers faded.
Mound focus total.
Thwang!
First pitch: curve.
Show my arsenal from jump.
"Strike one!"
Ump called the inside curve.
Followed with four-seam tight inside.
Whoosh!
"Swing! Strike two."
Ump's second strike, batter's frustrated "Ah..." sigh.
Batter glances at board.
Fast velo.
Power at E-cap, spin now over 2,100 rpm.
"Hyun-jun sunbae's pitch... rising...!"
Deok-gu's eyes sparkled behind the mask.
Yeah, that's the rising fastball.
Power up means the ball's got bite now.
Smirked at Deok-gu, wiped it off.
Focus more.
Concentration key today.
Whip!
Quick third pitch.
Whoosh!
Busan High leadoff Chu Hyung-woo fired a lightning swing.
Chu Hyung-woo.
HS career .400+ contact hitter.
Snap-whoosh!
His bat sliced over my pitch's top, barely missing.
"Swing, strike! Batter out!"
Ump's call, Chu Hyung-woo chuckles bitterly.
Glances at board.
Outside-riding four-seam.
Cut the zone corner, rode high out.
Chu Hyung-woo ate it.
"Ah..."
Batter out.
Two inside pitches first: tight curve, tighter four-seam.
Then high outside four-seam.
Shattered contact man Chu Hyung-woo's plan instantly.
Awaited next, ramping focus higher.
"Next."
Same for the two-hole.
"Swing! Strike out!"
Another three-pitch K.
In it, Busan High visitors' dugout chatter leaked.
"Seomun High pitcher—thoughts?"
"......"
"Song Hyun-jun, lefty. Stats jumped after form tweak."
Busan High manager, smiling slyly.
"Can we win?"
Busan High cleanup Baek Kang-ho, watching me quiet, answered.
"Pitcher's fun."
In Baek Kang-ho's short reply.
"Swing! Strike out!"
Ump's three-strike call rang again.
Song Hyun-jun K'd another Busan High batter three pitches.
"Song Hyun-jun."
Baek Kang-ho murmured my name.
Glanced at his bat, feeling the game would be a thrill.