Perfect Finale - 2
'Gotta kill 'em all.'
Geum Seong-muk steeled himself to strike out the entire heart of the order in the third.
He read the anxiety on the face of the seventh batter, Forrest Long, as he stepped into the box.
No hesitation.
First pitch: a fastball, quick and sharp.
"Strike!"
Second: a 12-6 curve.
"Strike!"
Third: a circle changeup dropping off the zone.
The batter's swing whiffed through empty air.
"Strike three!"
Next up: eighth batter Benjamin Wright.
A lefty with a killer record against southpaws.
But the result was the same.
First, second, third.
Only the dull thwack of the catcher's mitt echoed through the stadium.
"Strike three!"
Benjamin slunk back to the dugout, head down.
Two straight strikeouts on three pitches each.
A murmur rippled through the crowd: 'Is he...?'
All eyes locked on Geum Seong-muk.
The stands fell into a frozen hush.
"...Hoo!"
The ninth batter, Kyle Anderson, tapped his bat against his helmet and strode to the plate, vowing not to go down on three pitches.
First pitch: 161 km/h fastball.
Swing and a miss.
"Strike!"
Second: another heater.
It clipped the outside corner; the ump's right arm shot up.
"Strike two!"
"Hoo..."
Seong-muk steadied his breath.
The third pitch exploded from his fingertips.
Whoosh—
The ball plunged like a lightbulb flickering out.
Kyle's bat sliced through nothing.
"Strike three!"
"Uwoooooh!"
Seong-muk's primal roar shook the stadium.
The crowd erupted in a deafening roar.
Strikeout, strikeout! Three strikeouts on just nine pitches...! Geum Seong-muk mows down three straight batters on nine pitches total!
Flawless inning...! What an unreal performance...!! Geum Seong-muk notches a 9-pitch, three-strikeout inning—the first in 13 years at a youth international tournament!!
Nine straight strikeouts now! While the American hitters flail, Geum Seong-muk strikes them all out...!!
The fans' cheers battered the players' ears.
The Korean bench and coaches felt chills racing across their skin.
Coach Shin Cheol-hyeong locked eyes with Seong-muk.
Seong-muk raised his glove and flashed a grin.
"...!"
His expression screamed, You still pulling me? Coach Shin couldn't help but chuckle at the kid's fearless swagger.
"Bae Coach, Seong-muk stays for the next inning."
"...Yeah, that's what I was thinking too."
The coach and pitching coach felt their blood surging. How do you yank a guy dominating like that?
Still, Coach Shin kept his cool. He laid down a condition for keeping Seong-muk on the mound.
"Two runners on, from here on out across all innings—that's the hook. Keep the bullpen loose and ready."
"Got it."
Bae Coach nodded and headed off.
Two runners: pull him.
Coach Shin said it, but something felt off.
'Why can't I picture that kid coming out...?'
Seong-muk took the mound again in the fourth.
He fanned the leadoff and number-two hitters too.
"Uwoooooh!"
Strikeout again...! Eleven straight strikeouts!
New international tournament record for consecutive strikeouts! Geum Seong-muk already has two massive records today...!!
The internet boards exploded.
Of course, the streak ended when Carlos grounded out to the infield next, but Seong-muk returned to thunderous applause.
He took the mound in the next inning. And the one after. And the one after that.
Shattering American timing without mercy. Ninth batter Kyle Anderson froze on a circle changeup.
Thwack!
"Strike three!"
"Uwoooooh!"
Another K! Geum Seong-muk slams the door on the sixth!
Fifteen strikeouts already...! Insane pace!!
Now top of the seventh.
Opposing pitcher Lee Tae-bin climbed the mound, shaking his head.
"Hah, what a monster showed up..."
Tae-bin's pitch count had crept to 87.
He was starting to fade.
"Base on balls!"
He walked teammate Je Yun-chan, a base-stealing terror who rattled pitchers with his wheels.
But Tae-bin's mindset was simple.
"...Run all you want. If I keep 'em off-balance, we're good."
From there, Tae-bin caught fire again.
His S-grade breaking stuff danced every corner of the zone, toying with bats.
Crack!
"My ball!"
The inning ended on a center-field pop fly.
Korea still scoreless in the seventh.
Tae-bin had walked Yun-chan but hadn't allowed a single hit all game.
And once more, Geum Seong-muk toed the rubber for Korea.
Leadoff Cody Stark out on a pitcher grounder. Hunter Martin fanned on three fastballs.
Then cleanup Carlos Wisdom, gritting his teeth into the box.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck...!"
Carlos spat curses endlessly.
He couldn't fathom why this guy—who should've faced him once and bounced—was still out there.
Count already 0-2.
Then that pitch came again.
Whoosh—
Carlos felt possessed by a ghost.
No other explanation for that filthy movement.
"Strike three!"
K! Carlos whiffs...!
Seventeen strikeouts now...! Geum Seong-muk is crushing the American lineup!!
The announcers lost their minds.
By now, everyone in the stadium sensed it.
"Hey, that scoreboard..."
"No way...!!"
"Is it really happening!?"
The American side: zeros across the baserunner stats.
Top of the eighth now, and not one Yankee had touched first base.
"........."
"........."
Do Doyeon, Olivia, and Noah watching from the stands shivered at the realization.
Olivia spoke first.
"If this holds, Seong-muk's got a perf—"
"Shh!"
"Shh!"
"...!?"
Olivia jumped at Noah and Doyeon flashing fingers to their lips. Noah explained kindly.
"When a pitcher's no-hitting or whatever, you don't say the word. It's bad juju!"
"Yeah, superstition—mention it and you jinx it."
"Oh, gotcha..."
Olivia nodded, convinced.
No more words; back to the game.
Top eighth, Lee Tae-bin back out...! This might be his last inning?
But who knows! Tae-bin's still dealing—no hits yet. Quick inning here and he could go ninth!
Tae-bin, still no hits allowed.
Over 100 pitches now, fading, but he mowed down fifth batter Choi Seok-ho and sixth An Hyo-min quick.
'...Didn't think it'd happen.'
The no-hit dream shimmering before him despite fatigue. Facing seventh Hwang Tae-gang, he got complacent.
'Settle him quick...!'
The changeup drifted into the zone. Hwang's bat ignited.
Crack!
"...!!"
Oh! Hwang Tae-gang crushes it...!! Deep! It's gone—!
Tae-bin collapses on the mound...! No-hitter no-run ends here...!
1-0 Korea! Priceless run for the squad...! Hwang Tae-gang, old Bujeon High teammate of Geum Seong-muk, lightens his load...!
"Hwang Tae-gang! Hwang Tae-gang! Hwang Tae-gang...!!"
Tae-gang rounded the bases amid the roar.
He touched home, returned to the dugout, swarmed by teammates.
At the end: Seong-muk, once his closest friend.
Memories gone or not, the bond remained. Tae-gang still saw him as bro.
"Nice bomb."
"Hell yeah...!"
Smack!
High-five sealed it.
Tae-bin trudged off.
American closer Dustin Miller took over; the side folded, end of top eighth.
Bottom eighth now! Americans start with the heart: Dillon-Mason-Bryce!
Twenty homers combined this tourney...! Can they crack Geum Seong-muk...!?
Seong-muk to the mound again.
Korea's bullpen: empty. No one warming.
Just watching, tense, for history.
"Geum Seong-muk! Geum Seong-muk! Geum Seong-muk...!!"
The crowd chanted his name.
History on the brink.
Seong-muk thought as he climbed the hill.
'...Hoo, eighth now.'
Six outs to glory.
Maybe hand off? But Coach Shin and Bae silent.
No signs of a change.
'Fine, whatever...!'
Big windup.
First pitch fired.
Thump!
"My ball!"
Trickled to shortstop Je Yun-chan.
Number-four Dillon Wright out on one pitch.
The rest fell easy.
Crack!
Left field fly...! Macho-won settles under it!
Thwack!
Comes right back to the mound—Geum Seong-muk fields to first!
"Out!"
Three pitches, three outs.
Seong-muk strolled off casual.
"Hoo, tough out there."
Plopped into the dugout.
Dead silence.
"Huh...?"
Something felt off.
He'd felt this before.
'This is like... Geumgang High, the no-no...'
Glanced at the board.
Eyes widened.
'Holy shit, it's a perfect!'
Finally dawned on him.
He'd just wanted to pitch more than 1-2 innings on this big stage. Things snowballed.
'Why didn't anyone say—argh...'
Hand to forehead.
Unspoken rule: don't tell the guy.
"Out!"
Top ninth scoreless.
Wembley Diamond choked with tension.
Three outs left.
If Seong-muk got 'em solo: immortality.
'Perfect against the US in an international...'
Korea might be baseball gods, but America was monsters stacked.
A perfect against them?
Record for centuries maybe. Seong-muk felt electricity surge as he mounted up.
"Hoo..."
Seventh batter Forrest Long at the plate.
Big windup.
First pitch released.
Thwack!
"Strike!"
Second: outside sweeper.
"Strike!"
Third: fastball up and away.
Fourth: 12-6 curve clipping high.
"Strike three!"
Two outs left.
Eighth Benjamin Wright trembled into the box.
Whoosh—
"Strike!"
Circle change buried in the zone; Benjamin frozen. Will broken.
No need to wait.
Thwack!
"Strike!"
Thwack!
"Strike th—!"
162, 163 km/h heaters high and low. Strikeout.
One out to glory.
He'd be legend.
One out from history...! Korean fans praying hands together!!
Geum Seong-muk on the brink... last batter and—wait! USA pinch-hitter card!?
Thud, thud!
One batter emerged from the dugout.
The deflated American crowd surged, chanting his name.
"Lucas! Lucas! Lucas! Lucas...!!"
Towering frame.
Rippling muscle.
Aura of doom approaching: Lucas White.
Seong-muk pulled up his stat screen.
Name: Lucas White
Nationality: USA
Age: 19
Height: 196 cm
Affiliation: Gwangya High School
Skill: Captain America (S+)
Power and contact rise in clutch spots as starter.
Potential Keyword:Heavenly Strike Body (S+)
Batting Stats (*Potential) / LHB vs LHP
Power: S+ (*S+)
Contact: A+ (*S)
Speed: B → F (injury)
Eye: S (*S)
Defense: A+ → B (injury)
Arm: A+
Lucas White, Gwangya High's star—the Korean powerhouse's top gun.
Injured earlier, now pinch-hitting late.
The mood flipped instantly.
American fans hung every hope on him, chanting wildly.
"Lucas! Lucas! Lucas! Lucas...!!"
Korean fans fired back.
"Geum Seong-muk! Geum Seong-muk! Geum Seong-muk...!!!"
Amid the frenzy, Seong-muk's first pitch fired.
Crack!
Massive foul down the left side! Huge contact there...!
Lucas timed Seong-muk's 160s fastball perfectly. Cocky.
"...If that's all you got, no history today."
Planning a moonshot to reset the game. S eye made off-speed tricks tough.
But one thing he didn't know: Seong-muk hadn't switched once all game.
Circle change and fastball buffs from the jump, through bottom ninth, two outs.
First time he uttered it.
"Switch."
Stat changes from Solar Divine Vein reset!
Fastball stat boosted: A+ → S!
Fastball stat boosted: S → S+!
Manly choice: fastball pump.
Reinforcement done, shoulders loose, grin.
'Might touch it today—that velocity wall.'
S+ fastball before, but gassed then. Fresh now? Maybe break 170.
"Hoo..."
Big windup.
Arm whipped vicious for number two.
'Another fast one! This one's yard-bound...!'
Bat extended, brimming confidence.
But he saw it.
A fastball beyond perception.
Thwack!
"Strike!"
"...!?"
Lucas gawked at the board.
Jaw dropped.
-168 km/h
"Ha, ha..."
Unimaginable velocity. Hollow laugh.
0-2.
Time for breaking stuff? Nah—match the heat.
'Gut says fastball again...!'
Eyes wide for the next.
Seong-muk's third left his hand.
'I got this.'
Filthy fast.
But America's best bat.
Believed he could square it.
"Ahh..."
Ball darted behind his swing.
Lucas's downfall: underestimating acceleration.
Thwack!!
Massive mitt pop.
Wembley went library-quiet.
Eyes to the board.
-170 km/h
Choking number.
Its weight crashed down; the game ended.
Ump's arm rose rhythmic.
"Strike th—!"
"Uwoooooh!"
Game over! Geum Seong-muk authors a perfect game against the USA!!
Eternal mark on high school baseball history...!!
Fist clenched skyward, Seong-muk roared.
Heaven and earth: his alone.
No brighter star here.
"Ahh..."
"...Oppa."
The girls sniffled in the stands.
Tears for them; Korean fans rioted.
The team went berserk too.
Game end, Koreans swarmed the mound.
Catcher Hwang Tae-gang led.
"Kahaha, you crazy bastard...!!"
Tae-gang bear-hugged Seong-muk.
Next: Ri Dong-hyeok.
"Comrade Seong-muk, congrats...! Epic feat...!!"
Teammates piled on with cheers. Seong-muk beamed brightest.
"Thanks, you bastards...!"
Hugging his perfect-game partners, gratitude poured out.
Thus ended his national team finale—flawlessly, no regrets.
Final Champion: Korea
Winning Pitcher: Geum Seong-muk
Losing Pitcher: Lee Tae-bin
9 IP, 0 H, 0 BB, 21 K
PERFECT GAME ACHIEVED