I Came to End This War (2)
Eokpal wasn't the only one staring in shock—and roaring with delight—at Pi Anta's performance.
"I knew it… All those late nights were worth it."
Han Yerin, Scout Team Leader of the Goraniz, was so deep into energy drinks chased with coffee that the world had gone soft around the edges—and still she couldn't wipe the happy smile off her face.
Why had she poured herself into that presentation—Pi Anta's strengths, the projected impact of signing her, how far the team could grow with her on the roster—complete with infographics and everything?
If you want to recruit me, go convince the GM and the owner.
Wasn't it all to satisfy the picky palate of that cocky Iron-tier hitter who'd laid down those terms?
And right now, that hitter was proving she had every right to talk that way.
Believing in that, Yerin had built the briefing materials—and even through the exhaustion, strength kept rising in her on its own.
Winning the recruiting war for Pi Anta was only the beginning.
Changing a team's atmosphere was never easy. And when the thing that needed changing was a defeatist mindset that had soaked into every corner of the clubhouse, a couple of people grinding harder wasn't going to cut it.
"…We need someone who can make people believe again."
That person is incredible.
I want to be like her.
If I play like her, we win.
I want to run out there beside her.
Yerin believed Pi Anta would be the one to fill that role.
She hadn't expected it, but the catcher position had already given them a decent read on her leadership. No matter how skilled a catcher was, without the force that made other players follow—what people called "boss energy"—you couldn't seize control of a clubhouse in a crisis and drag it forward.
Pi Anta had that.
She moved players the way she intended.
And the players followed her orders.
That unquantifiable thing called leadership was simply radiating off her.
The more I watch her, the stranger it gets.
How had a hitter this monstrous stayed buried all this time? If she'd only recently fallen in love with baseball, fine—but she'd never climbed out of Iron through all of high school.
It wasn't PEDs, either.
So how the hell had a monster like that just… awakened?
…Doesn't matter for now.
Tomorrow's briefing. Nail it from top to bottom.
The next day.
Completely oblivious to how fierce the overnight under-the-table maneuvering had been, Pi Anta started her morning the way she always did—stretching and a run.
"Dad. You're up early."
Lately, though, finishing her run and coming home meant walking into situations that were less than welcome.
"There's my girl."
Her father had come all the way to the front door to greet her. Feeling the weight of it, she gave him an awkward smile and tried to slip toward the bathroom for a shower—only for him to ask again.
"So, uh—any word from the Goraniz since then?"
At that, her mother came flying out of the kitchen mid-breakfast prep and, like Nolbu's wife from the old folktale winding up to slap Heungbu across the face, cracked a rice paddle straight into her husband's cheek.
WHACK!!
"Puh—?!"
"Why do you keep putting pressure on the kid?!"
The sports article where the Goraniz had publicly declared they would sign her no matter what. And the meeting that had actually happened not long ago with the Goraniz Scout Team Leader.
Honestly, if your daughter were in that position, not getting your hopes up would be the weird part.
So it wasn't really a burden, and she understood completely—but that didn't mean her father's over-the-top interest was something she welcomed. Pi Anta decided the smartest move was to stand very still and say nothing.
Anta's father glared at his wife with the face of a pitiful rock crab whose shield had been stripped clean by a nine-hundred-damage critical hit.
"A man can be curious! Our daughter might go to the Goraniz and you're this indifferent—how is that even possible?!"
"If something good happens, she'll tell us herself. And like you said—if there's been radio silence since and she just got cut, how crushed do you think she'd feel? Honestly, I'm the only one who actually worries about her."
"I-is that it, Anta? Did the whole Goraniz thing just… fall through…?"
Seized by despair, he grabbed Anta by both shoulders and asked—and Anta's mother, thoroughly fed up, bellowed at him.
"I was speaking hypothetically, you idiot!"
"Then say it properly!"
"Would you cut it out already?! Common sense—shouldn't we be packing her lunch and walking her to school telling her not to go to that team? Sure, they're the team we root for, but our kid still has a career as a baseball player!"
"This woman doesn't get it. A truly great player doesn't hoist the trophy on a team that's already good!"
"Then what?"
"On a team in crisis—huh? You fight through hell with your own two hands and you take that team to a championship! If you're a real man, you need that kind of ambition—!"
"She's a girl—what do you mean, 'real man'?!"
…The former man, current beautiful young woman known as Pi Anta flinched, her own past life suddenly itchy under her feet.
"I-I'm just going to wash up first."
So Pi Anta bowed her head and fled for the bathroom. The bickering continued right outside the door.
"Whew."
No matter how many times she saw it, those two really did love baseball.
Her mother was probably only holding her back for the sake of her daughter's future. The moment she actually saw her girl tearing it up in a Goraniz uniform, she'd be happier than anyone.
"A real man… huh."
Pi Anta murmured the words and, on impulse, laid a hand on her own chest. The soft, yielding give under her palm seemed to remind her that she was no longer a man at all.
But.
She stripped down, faced her naked reflection in the mirror, and muttered like a vow.
"At this size, I might as well not have any."
It was closer to pecs than breasts.
Therefore: she was a man.
Anyway—she was a man!
Which meant she agreed with her father completely.
Pi Anta's final destination was the major leagues. This world's baseball circuit was far more active than the old Korea–US–Japan–and-Taiwan arrangement, with club exhibitions running constantly—but the strongest stage on earth still belonged to America.
Wanting to play on the world's greatest stage was one thing.
The beautiful picture Pi Anta personally wanted to paint, though, happened to line up exactly with what her father wanted.
Lead a team with her own hands. Win a championship.
If you were a real man, how could your heart not pound at a scenario like that? Of course, right now it wasn't so much pounding as softly bouncing, but still.
"The Goraniz…"
That was part of why her heart leaned toward that team.
But it was never something she could do with her power alone.
The help of people who shared the vision. Front-office support. And on top of that, the leadership of one special person.
Only then did miracles happen.
And that was exactly where Pi Anta hesitated about going to the Goraniz.
If the people upstairs had no real intention of changing the team's DNA—then no matter how hard she flew and fought, there would be a ceiling.
In that case, better to put up solid numbers on a top-tier club and prepare for the majors.
Which was why the role of Han Yerin, Scout Team Leader of the Goraniz, actually mattered so much.
About ten days had passed since they'd traded the conditions each of them wanted.
Pi Anta's current tier: Platinum.
In a month, barring some major variable, she could probably scrape the bottom of Master—but even if she fell short, she'd recently picked up one more credential worth putting on the table.
In other words: the catcher meta.
The idea of "pick the catcher most favorable for WAR and climb tiers fast" had been around forever—but anyone who knew even a little baseball understood that flawlessly executing a catcher's mountain of responsibilities and hitting well was nearly impossible. So it had always been written off as armchair-baseball trash talk.
Then someone actually did it. An Iron player hit Platinum in ten days. And just like that, the Great Catcher Era—aimed at high tiers—was born.
The popular BoL videos on OneTube were already reflecting the trend.
Can You Farm Easy Wins Playing Catcher Like Pi Anta?!
Pi Anta-Style Catcher Guide: Hey, You Can Hit Platinum Too!
Pi Anta Catcher Tutorial! After Watching This I Quit Shortstop.
Current Tier-1 Position — Whoa, Is This Real??
Ever since she'd learned OneTube existed, Pi Anta searched her own name dozens of times a day. Every hour. Newest first. Most popular first. And just in case, she searched channel names too.
Of course not every video or post was glowing—but being talked about at all made her happy.
And what made her especially proud lately was how many people were watching her play… and trying to become her.
A catcher meta.
She had created a meta!
Standing in the shower, she felt so grand she half-wanted a swelling BGM track under the water. And once again—swelling or not, it was still an A-cup set of pecs—but even a small chest had the right to swell and bounce with pride.
At this point, even if I don't hit Master, they have to give me some credit, right?
It wasn't just personal production. It was proof she was a player influential enough to drive the entire trend of the sport. That, Pi Anta decided, was a pretty solid case.
So now all she needed was the call.
She was thinking exactly that, drying her hair, when the phone she'd brought in started buzzing.
She saw the name on the screen and grinned.
So much for playing hard to get.
Finally—what she'd been waiting for had arrived.