Korea National Team vs China National Team
The festival of the world's baseball fans had begun.
The tournament drawing the gaze of countless fans.
The World Youth Baseball Championship curtain rose, offering a glimpse of the fresh-faced players who would one day dominate the global stage.
This year had no adult world tournament anyway.
Baseball fans worldwide poured their energy into this youth event, gathering in global communities to share opinions.
Mongolia's team had insane power and massive builds—natural advantages.
Nation after nation boasted about their all-time rosters.
And annoyingly, most of it was true.
In stark contrast, the world's view of the Korean team was a big question mark.
Nations trashed Korea while hyping their own.
Korea's roster was weaker than past years, but the piling on felt excessive.
China was the worst offender.
China had politically absorbed other nations' teams, massively boosting power. They were hungry to finally beat Korea.
China had never beaten Korea at any youth level. They staked everything on this game.
Of course, they underestimated Korea's potential.
Until they got properly smacked.
Crack!
"........."
Tokyo Dome fell silent like a library from the start.
China's team got obliterated without a peep. Their "Jia you!!" chants barely registered.
Nonstop runs from the first inning.
One word flashed in Chinese fans' minds.
Konghan Syndrome (恐韓症).
The term born from China's utter collapses whenever facing Korea.
That day, they remembered.
The bone-deep terror etched in.
The humiliation of never winning once.
In this mess, one batter stepped up.
#8 RF, Geum Seong-muk.
'#8, huh...'
Seong-muk entered the unfamiliar slot.
The spring HR king nationwide got this lineup spot for several reasons.
"Alright, let's start the meeting."
The meeting kicked off under Manager Shin Cheol-hyeong.
The youth team coaches aimed to chase two goals: tournament success and player development.
The manager cleared his throat and scanned the coaches.
"Speak freely—how should we polish these raw gems carrying Korea's baseball future?"
Coaches chimed in with opinions.
Experts in their fields, they confidently shared without hesitation.
"Hwang Tae-gang could cut pop time way down with tweaks."
"Jang Tae-san's delivery looks stiff. Needs correction."
Manager Shin listened quietly, jotting notes.
How long into the meeting?
Finally, the player all coaches eyed: the hot topic.
"Geum Seong-muk's turn. Speak freely."
"......... "
Coaches exchanged glances.
Pitching coach, hitting coach, trainer—most had something on Seong-muk.
They jumped in competitively.
Hitting coach Eom Jae-seung spoke first.
"...Heaven-sent hitting talent. I stake my name he'll be Korea's slugger rep. Focus on his bat during the tourney."
"Hm."
Manager nodded, but pitching coach Bae Jun-ho raised a hand.
"I go further. Geum Seong-muk will be Korea's national team #1 starter."
"...!"
"Plenty of good lefty hitters in leagues, but a lefty already touching 160km? Count 'em on one hand. No need to debate focus. Even a month on pitching only is tight."
"That damn Bae coach..."
Hitting coach gritted teeth.
This coach showdown was odd, but their greed burned.
'That Geum Seong-muk kid...'
'If I just coach him a bit...'
'He'll make it huge...!!'
Seong-muk shone on both sides of the ball, so both wanted him. Manager pinched his brow, mediating.
'First time seeing coaches like this...'
Proof of Seong-muk's insane potential.
Manager decided to sort it.
"I get both coaches want him. For now, both teach him."
"Both...?"
"But Manager, focus and choice..."
Coaches grumbled, but Shin was firm.
"Enough. Watch longer to see if hitting or pitching lags more. You're blinded by greed now. No more objections."
"Yes, understood..."
Coaches acquiesced.
The trainer, watching silently, raised a hand quietly.
"Not easy, but what if he absorbs both coaches at once?"
"...Hm, interesting hypothesis."
Manager stroked his chin.
National team or not, still high schoolers. Eom and Bae weren't shy with grueling drills.
Manager smirked.
"If he pulls it off, by tourney end, he'll be a true monster."
Geum Seong-muk at #8.
Purely the manager's consideration.
To let him absorb hitting theory in a low-pressure spot.
Thwack!
"Base on balls...!"
"...Hm."
Seong-muk picked and walked to first.
Back-to-back BBs.
Not intentional—scary hitter, sure, but Korea's lineup was a minefield. Couldn't just avoid #8.
He just selected well.
Outside the zone.
Coach's words echoed in Seong-muk's head.
'Your power's clear from spring records. Monstrous.'
'But long way to go. To be complete, you need a 'sharper eye'.'
'Your potential's not just brute force. You can be a truly 'fearsome' hitter.'
Eom Jae-seung's bitter medicine for Seong-muk.
Surprisingly simple.
'Start the bat after reading the pitch...!'
'Favorable count? Be pickier! Torment the pitcher!'
Against Seong-muk's habits.
Yet he followed blindly.
'Not the type to spout nonsense.'
Skill was legit.
The plate discipline stat bonus was sweet too.
Thwack!
"Base on balls...!!"
Three straight BBs.
Seong-muk forced tons of pitches per PA, walking to first. Announcers buzzed with interest.
Seong-muk silently set the table.
Korea scored this inning too—now 7-0.
China fumed.
Didn't help scoring.
Thwack!
"Strike three...!!"
"Argh!"
Chen Zifeng whiffed emptily.
Next, Ha Hudong too.
"Haha, crisp swing."
Top righty nationwide.
The sly fox technician Kim Eol dominated China perfectly.
"Picking Eol as starter was spot-on."
"Agreed."
Kim Eol cooked China's antsy hitters beautifully.
No need for others.
Game didn't drag.
Crack!
".........!!"
"...Whew!"
Seong-muk flung the bat.
Full of conviction, he trotted. Ball cleared the wall.
Thud!
'Definitely helping.'
Bae Jun-ho's advice paid off.
Seong-muk rounded bases slowly.
Grinned.
Plate Discipline Stat: B+ → A
'...Delicious!'
Smashed China, nearly free plate discipline stat upgrade. National team stage + ace coaches = jackpot.
Seong-muk stepped hard on home, brimming with anticipation.
Thump!
'This tourney, I'll suck every drop of honey.'
A lavish room.
European-style expanse, massive TV blaring baseball.
Blue-straight-haired girl on premium leather sofa gulped black tea, eyes glued.
"......... "
Seong-muk high-fiving teammates.
She flinched each appearance.
Then—
Door opened, someone entered.
"Miss Ye-bin, rare sight. Up early weekend morning...?"
"...Nothing. Don't mind."
Maid appeared; she killed the TV quick.
Yujin Holdings chairman's granddaughter, Seo Ye-bin, set down empty cup and bolted to her room.
Maid eyed her retreating back.
Longtime servant, she knew why.
'Japan-UK time diff 9 hours—Korea game's on now...'
And Geum Seong-muk's there.
Given her passionate past with him, forgetting was tough.
'After that scandal, sent to UK study abroad on chairman's orders. Tourney finals in UK too...'
UK: BBC, Guardian, Times, Reuters—media hub.
Heir to Yujin Press, studying there to forget him.
Tourney in London—her school too. Overlap ~2 weeks.
Maid recalled the past.
Ye-bin's sweet romance exposed, chairman's fury.
'...A minor error. Never should've happened.'
Chaebol heiress and lowborn athlete sans parents. Brief overlap once, but Korea's class gaps made it impossible.
Ye-bin knew it bone-deep now.
Yet maid's unease lingered.
'No way something happens...'
She shook her head.
Mature, wiser Ye-bin wouldn't.