Takahina Ryuji's Circumstances
Japan-Korea showdown!
Just hearing the name made hearts race and palms sweat!
A long, tangled history of bad blood between Korea and Japan undoubtedly played a huge role in that. That's why sayings like "You can't even lose a game of rock-paper-scissors in a Japan-Korea match" existed.
But in this world, it was different.
Because Korea had never been under Japanese rule to begin with!
Back then, Japan couldn't pierce the ironclad coastal defenses of Admiral Yi Sun-sin—the Three Provinces Naval Commander and Cleanup Hitter—and suffered massive losses to national power before slinking back home.
"Joseon... don't even think about touching Joseon...."
Those were Toyotomi Hideyoshi's final words before he died.
Even after that, Joseon's soldiers—keeping body and mind fit through baseball, the legacy of King Sejong—thoroughly repelled Japan.
And it was the same in later generations.
Even when Japan rushed into modernization with the Meiji Restoration and took an early lead in scientific tech, Korea didn't fall behind.
Surprisingly, baseball played a big part there too.
"Baseball, created by King Sejong, is a magnificent sport...!"
"I will proclaim its greatness to the entire world!"
And so the baseball evangelists slung bundles packed with gloves and bats over their shoulders, hopping on ships and racing overseas.
"Oh, what an entertaining sport!"
"Come proclaim the ball to our Florence too...!"
This spread laid the foundation for baseball's globalization today, and those early evangelists brought back all sorts of technologies after rubbing shoulders with Europe's and America's elite.
With scientific progress flowing neck-and-neck between Joseon and Japan, and no vast gap in national power, there was no room for colonies to form between the two.
They remained just "that country we brawled with a few times back in the day." No real hostility like in our reality. In this world, what Korean baseball fans thought of Japan went something like this:
"Japan? They lose to us every time."
"At least if the head-to-head was even, we'd give 'em the time of day...."
"Japan's like, exactly American-tier. Not worth caring about, so let 'em fight over second place."
A glaring gap in skill between the two nations!
That's why Korea didn't even have a term like "Japan-Korea matchup."
Derbies are for rivals on the same level.
No need to coin a term for a foe you beat 9 out of 10 times.
Of course, Japan saw it differently.
They eyed the throne Korea occupied with fire in their eyes.
That's why they benchmarked so many baseball systems from Korea.
Koshien, modeled after Korea's Sejong Tournament, was the prime example.
They even branded national team games against Korea as "Japan-Korea clashes" and desperately lunged for a win.
Most ended in crushing defeat, of course.
But every once in a blue moon, when Japan had a monster player, they'd shock Korea. And today was one of those days.
Crack!
Ryuji's leadoff homer.
He'd started the tournament at eighth in the order amid team hazing, but after smashing five homers in his first two games as a show of force, he'd claimed the cleanup spot.
The packed Tokyo Dome crowd chanted Ryuji's name. But his rampage didn't end there.
Crack!
Tokyo Dome in a frenzy.
Japan had never pushed the world's strongest team, Korea, this hard before.
Deafening cheers erupted for this kid who came out of nowhere.
Whew, what insane heat...
Ryuji glanced at the stands while rounding the bases.
His mind drifted to recent events.
"Good work on the press conference. Looks like they get your situation."
"...Phew, this is tougher than I thought."
Ryuji after the presser.
His national team selection had stirred controversy, just like Ri Dong-hyeok's.
Was it right for a yakuza boss's son to represent? National disgrace. Were baseball officials threatened?
Noise he had to clear up once and for all.
Like Ri, Ryuji faced the press and laid it all out honestly.
—Once shackled by being a yakuza boss's son, I quit baseball and wandered. But now I know: I can't live without it.
—Dad's dad, I'm me. I won't touch anything illegal outside baseball.
—Prejudice is natural; it's my burden. For now, as a national team member, I'll repay the people with great baseball.
Japanese public opinion split, as expected.
Kick him off the team now, versus give the kid a chance—don't punish the son for the father's sins.
Still, the team stuck by his selection.
But after the uproar, without proving monster talent, future call-ups were a long shot.
That's why Ryuji felt the urgency.
I have to show something big this time, no matter what.
That's why he'd begged his father, Ryuken, for special training. Ryuken nodded silently and led him deep into the Takahina family estate's forest.
How far had they gone?
Deep in the woods stood several black, sturdy trees.
"Dad, this can't be..."
"Right. Bloodwood trees, our family's pride. The wood your bat's made from."
Ryuken strode to the one dead center, tapped it, and turned to Ryuji.
"This one's perfect. Ryuji, uproot it."
"Pardon...?"
"Your method, your call. If you can yank it out solo, I guarantee you'll level up."
"........."
Ryuji was speechless.
He had top-tier strength for his age, but yanking a tree rooted deep? No way.
Maybe only a legend like Xiang Yu could.
Still, gotta try.
He resolved to give it a shot.
First, hug the trunk and pull.
"Nngh...!"
Not a budge.
Next, swing the bat.
Clang!
Zzt...!
"Urgh......"
Vibrations shot through his fingertips.
No clean hit—just brutal recoil.
Ropes? No dice. Shovel? Useless. The tree just stood there.
"Hoo, haa.... Guess it's down to this...."
Dragon Blood.
The Takahina clan's hereditary power.
It supercharged his strength against intriguing foes.
But on an inanimate object?
Only used on people so far.
No reason it couldn't work, though.
"Hoo......"
Mindset shift.
Hours later, he faintly summoned Dragon Blood at will.
"Good, again!"
Flicker on, off—dozens of times.
He finally got the hang of it.
"Hoo, helpful already."
Tree time.
He gripped tight and pulled.
"Nngaaah...!!"
Arms bulged like bursting. Ground trembled faintly. But no dice. Sweat poured. Scratches everywhere. Fail.
"Haa, seriously uproot this...?"
Plopped on the ground.
Dad gave me an impossible task.
But quitting? No.
He peered closer.
"Weak spots...?"
A few softer roots at the base caught his eye. Bat up.
"Hoo...."
Clang!
Claaang!
Dragon Blood swing—roots shattered. He grinned, sensing it.
Clang!
Cling!
"Nngh...!"
Smash weak spots, yank to weaken more. Repeat.
Days glued to that tree.
One of the few allowed in—Noah—brought rice balls each time, but he skipped meals in focus.
Then one day.
"Nnghup...!!"
Whoosh—
The tree swayed hard as he pulled.
Full commitment—he scraped every ounce of strength.
"Nngaaaahhh...!!"
Roaring, he yanked. It tore free, toppled his way, crashed down.
Thud!!
"Haa, nearly went to the afterlife...."
Almost crushed.
He'd poured his all.
At first, pointless? But he felt it now.
"...I feel it. I'm way stronger."
Mastered Dragon Blood control, raw power output.
He'd hit Power Stat S.
Not pure S without the boost, but on-demand activation? No issue.
"...Impressive."
Ryuken, drawn by the noise.
Fleeting smile, then stern.
"Next training, son."
"............!?!?"
No rest for the prodigal son. Life-risking drills continued.
"Young master, sorry...!"
"Boss's orders!! Don't hate us!"
Dodge live blades from clan goons.
Whoosh!
"Ugh...!"
"Ryuji, don't dodge—split it!"
"You're insane!"
Bat arrows mid-flight.
21st-century training? Questionable.
Seong-muk would've marveled at the ingenuity; Ryuji was dying.
"...Huff, huff. Done now?"
"Excellent, son."
Ryuken clapped, satisfied.
He'd crammed every trick he knew.
Ryuji's lingering A+ Power and Contact? Both S now.
To think he absorbed it all...
Ryuken realized: his son, a history-making genius for Japanese baseball.
The drought-ending monster for Japan's lineup was born.