Catfight Kicks Off for Real!
“Woooaaahhh...!!”
“Republic of Korea...!!”
The Wembley Stadium erupted into a full-blown festival the moment victory was sealed.
Korean fans were on their feet, going absolutely wild.
On the field, the Korean players ran around, soaking in the joy. Before long, officials from the World Baseball Federation draped gold medals around their necks.
“We actually won the whole thing.”
“Yeah, champions... Unreal.”
Even as members of the world's strongest baseball nation, carrying that weight while battling global powerhouses had been a massive burden.
Now, with their happy ending secured, the national team felt nothing but pure relief. Time to just enjoy it.
“.........”
Ri Donghyeok stared down at the gold medal hanging around his neck, a swirl of complex emotions playing across his face.
Seong-muk teased him playfully.
“What're you doing, Donghyeok? About to cry again?”
“...Heh, just feeling good, that's all.”
Ri Donghyeok flashed a grin.
He was truly starting to feel it now—not the bastard son of North Korea's elite, but a full-fledged member of the Republic of Korea.
As they chatted, Hwang Tae-gang—one of the heroes of the final—approached Seong-muk.
“Hey, having fun?”
“Yeah, thanks to your solid catching.”
“Solid? You called like ninety percent of the pitches yourself.”
Seong-muk chuckled.
Hwang Tae-gang grinned back.
“Anyway, you threw a perfect game. You gonna get her that?”
“That? Oh...”
It clicked for Seong-muk.
In real-life Major League Baseball, pitchers who threw a perfect game had a tradition of gifting a Rolex watch to the catcher who wore the mask that day.
The tradition existed in this Korea-dominated world too, and it was generally upheld...
“You know I'm broke, right?”
“...As if I'd forget. Just messing with you.”
Hwang Tae-gang laughed good-naturedly and turned to go. But he stopped dead in his tracks.
“Hold up. I'll get it for you by year's end.”
“Wha...?!”
Hwang Tae-gang's eyes went wide.
He'd never dreamed Seong-muk would actually follow through.
“No, man, I was kidding...! You're broke yourself!”
Hwang Tae-gang waved him off frantically.
Seong-muk had no cash right now, true.
But after the high school season wrapped, the rookie draft loomed.
A top pick meant contracts in the tens of billions—buying a Rolex would be pocket change.
Best to surprise him later, Seong-muk figured. He brushed it off and handled the swarm of rushing reporters.
Soon, it was time for the victory ceremony.
“Hey, Geum Seong-muk! Get to center now!”
“Can't have the perfect game guy stuck in the corner—we'll take the heat!”
Somehow, Seong-muk got shoved to the middle.
“Alright, everyone together. One, two...!!”
Boom! Pop!!
Fireworks exploded right on cue.
At the center of the team, Seong-muk hoisted the trophy high with everyone, celebrating the World Championship triumph.
The Republic of Korea had proven once more it sat atop world baseball. And Geum Seong-muk had shown he was the pinnacle even among them.
A perfect happy ending.
After the win, the Korean team got some free time. Pure bliss—strolling London's streets without a care.
Some players crashed in their hotel beds, exhausted. But Seong-muk headed out. He had a date.
...Never thought I'd need this much disguise abroad.
Carrying the tournament had made Seong-muk a celebrity. Just last night, grabbing a midnight cola had turned into a sweaty autograph mob with locals.
Finally, with hat, sunglasses, and mask fully armed, he made it to the rendezvous.
And there they were, waiting ahead of him.
“Seong-muk oppa, over here! Here...!!”
Noah bounced and waved wildly.
Flanking her: Olivia and Doyeon, eyeing each other with clear displeasure.
Today's promise? A London date with three beauties.
Olivia and Doyeon had wanted cozy one-on-one celebrations to advance things, but sharing time with Seong-muk still beat nothing.
Under local expert Olivia's lead, the quartet headed to Westminster. There loomed London's crown jewel: Big Ben.
“Kyaa, it's so cool...!”
Noah geeked out over the massive clock tower.
They hit London Eye and Buckingham Palace next.
Sun dipping low, stomachs rumbling—Olivia turned to Seong-muk.
“Seong-muk, anything you're craving?”
She knew all the London spots.
Not just French or Italian—Korean, Japanese, full Asian lineup.
But Seong-muk's answer blindsided her.
“Hmm, something you can only get in Britain.”
“Ah....”
Olivia froze, brain short-circuiting.
Never saw British food—let alone local-only—coming.
Couldn't say, “British cuisine sucks, let's do something else.” Second-best it was.
“............”
“...........”
The group stared speechless at the dish.
Before them: the infamous “jellied eels.”
“Yeah, definitely Britain-exclusive...”
Seong-muk rediscovered Britain's culinary notoriety.
A huge eel chunk in cold, jelly-firm broth.
Visuals screamed not tasty.
The queen of love-it-or-hate-it: Noah and Doyeon scooped the jelly first.
“Cough, cough...!”
“Ugh, so fishy...!”
Instant regret, chugging water.
Olivia's soul nearly fled—expected, but oof.
Yet one kept eating steadily.
“Mmm, suits my taste. Thanks, Olivia.”
“Seong-muk...”
Olivia beamed, deeply touched.
Noah and Doyeon skipped proper meals, so they ordered normal food after. Group left sated.
Next: West End, musical mecca. Final date stop: a show.
Tastes clashed hard.
“...The Phantom of the Opera is the pinnacle, hands down.”
“Loved Victor Hugo since kid days—Les Misérables for me.”
“Lion King...!! Saw it on TV as a kid, loved it!”
Deadlock.
All eyes on Seong-muk.
“Seong-muk...!”
“Which one?”
“...........”
Seong-muk: zero musicals under his belt. Not his scene.
His ask? Simple.
“Something easy. Brain-off fun.”
“.....!”
Two options axed instantly.
The Lion King it was.
First-timer Seong-muk? Blown away.
“Whoa, impressive.”
Fog filling the theater was cool, but the sets? Next-level. Custom theater built A-to-Z for one show. He dug it.
“Super fun, right...!”
“Yeah, pretty great.”
Not their top picks, but Doyeon and Olivia enjoyed too.
Curtain down.
Seong-muk stepped out for air. Noah stayed to ogle actors up close.
Olivia and Doyeon hit the bathroom.
“.........”
“.........”
Not a word en route. To them, the other was just “rival after Seong-muk”—nothing more, nothing less.
About to enter the ladies' room, Doyeon bumped a passerby.
“Ah...!”
Rebound-hit Olivia.
“.........”
Olivia eyed Doyeon. Unintentional, so Doyeon opened to apologize—but boom. It blew up.
“Doyeon, you don't like me, do you?”
“.........!”
Doyeon blindsided by the direct hit.
Woman's intuition screamed: half-assed apology here, and she'd lose momentum.
No way...!
No yielding on Seong-muk. Doyeon went tit-for-tat.
“Yeah, don't like you.”
Doyeon smiled sweetly.
Olivia, unfazed: “You sure that's wise? Sticking between me and Seong-muk will just stress you out...”
“Why?”
“Our hearts are already one.”
Olivia blushed, finger to lips. Clear code: they'd kissed.
If news to Doyeon, devastating. But prepped long ago.
She countered coolly.
“Cute. Kids these days.”
“...Pardon?”
“One kiss and you think you've got him locked?”
“One kiss? Sounds like you've gone further—my imagination?”
Olivia sharpened at the poise. Doyeon tucked hair behind ear, grinning.
“Nope. Bathed with Seong-muk too.”
“.........!?”
Olivia's poker face cracked. Eyebrow twitched.
A man and woman bathing together? Pure eros, endless possibilities.
Heavy damage.
Olivia conceded this round.
“...Experience wins, huh.”
“Ex...perience?”
Doyeon's smug cracked.
But the barrage continued.
“Yeah, you're way older than me.”
“Way...??”
“...Obvious. Tons of dating XP, killer skills. Fair—I got cocky off a kiss.”
“You little...!”
Doyeon properly triggered.
Age gap with Seong-muk already bugged her—this struck her sore spot.
Full-on mudslinging now.
“Seong-muk's already approved by my dad—legendary chef Gordon Ramsay. Even said we'd make a great couple.”
“Funny, our Korean Baseball Association chairman dad calls Seong-muk 'son-in-law' now.”
Parents just the opener.
They clashed over every aid they'd given Seong-muk.
Without the “meet Seong-muk soon” deadline, hair-pulling might've ensued.
“Haa, haa...”
“Hoo, huff...”
Exhausted from the onslaught, a tense truce held.
Of course...!
Hate her...!
They glared murderously.
No way they'd ever warm to each other.
“Hmhm...♪”
Noah peeked from behind the wall, amused. Grinning schemingly—up to something, clearly.