Hassan Reformation Project - 2
"We're climbing the mountain now. Dress warm and follow me."
"The, the mountain!?"
And with that, Ma Deok-su shot off like a bullet.
Hassan blinked in confusion, utterly lost, before hurriedly throwing on some clothes and chasing after him.
"Hurry it up! You tryin' to keep this old man waitin'?"
"Coming right now!!"
And so their mountain hike began.
Just like before, Ma Deok-su didn't say a word the whole way.
What the heck is this all about...?
When every second counted, here was Ma Deok-su, just walking... and walking some more.
He wouldn't explain a damn thing, leaving Hassan frustrated as hell.
With a heavy sigh, Hassan trudged on—until things he'd never noticed before started catching his eye.
Whoa, that's pretty.
The mountain landscape bathed in the faint dawn light.
Moonlight reflecting off a babbling stream.
Squirrels darting here and there across the slopes.
Stuff that had always flown right under Hassan's radar.
Come to think of it, the guys said they trained in the mountains.
While Munhyeok High did team training, Hassan had stayed behind in Pakistan for personal sessions right up until the Sejong Series opener.
...I wanted to join them.
Training with his teammates amid fresh mountain air and streams? That alone would've been a blast.
Pakistan? Not so much fun.
And the results? Meh.
Too many cooks spoil the broth, or so they say.
All these "famous" Pakistani coaches had swarmed him, but their conflicting advice just muddied everything—no real help there.
Lost in those thoughts as he climbed, Hassan suddenly heard Ma Deok-su call out.
"We're here. Look ahead, Ham."
"Pardon?"
Hassan looked up.
"Whoa...!!"
A childlike cheer burst from him.
The sun rising over the peak.
The chilly dawn air warming up, the dark sky exploding into brilliant oranges and reds.
It breathed life into the shadowy mountain—a glorious dawn breaking.
"Whaddya think? To your likin'?"
"Never seen anything like it. Whoa..."
Hassan's eyes sparkled at the overwhelming vista.
Then Ma Deok-su chugged some makgeolli, wiped his mouth, and asked,
"Still got those stray thoughts buzzin' in your head?"
"Uh...?"
"Even right now, in this moment—those cluttered thoughts fillin' your skull."
".........!"
Hassan flinched in shock.
How'd he know?
"Heh, I'm 86 this year. I can spot it a mile away."
Hassan blinked in awe.
He checked himself and gasped,
"Whoa, they're gone. Huh...?"
"Ho ho, just as planned."
Ma Deok-su nodded, satisfied.
He plopped down on a rock and asked,
"What's the most important part of control, in your thinkin'?"
"The, the most important part of control?"
Hassan racked his brain.
But a guy who'd survived on random pitches? No clue.
"Dunno."
"Figured. Answer's makin' your inner self peaceful."
"Peaceful inner self?"
"Simple: no stray thoughts."
Ma Deok-su picked up a long pine needle from the rock base.
Without hesitation, he swung his arm.
Thwack!
The needle nailed a pinecone dead-on.
It tumbled down, plopping right on Hassan's head. His jaw dropped.
"Gasp! How?!"
"Told ya: clear out the stray thoughts."
"How do I do that...?"
Hassan, always plagued by worries and distractions, found it impossibly tough.
Ma Deok-su just chuckled and downed more makgeolli.
"Look ahead. Answer's right there."
"Ahead...?"
Hassan gazed at the sunrise again.
His mind cleared like magic.
"When your head's a mess and nothin' works, take it easy. Stroll, soak in the scenery, breathe the good air. It'll clear like a ghost fled."
"Coach..."
Enlightenment dawned on Hassan.
His eyes blazed with resolve.
"I wanna throw now. Can I head down first?"
"Go on, heh heh."
"Thank you, Coach!!"
Hassan bowed at ninety degrees and bolted down the mountain.
Ma Deok-su watched, roaring with laughter.
"Kid's got manners, unlike that rice barrel Geum Seong-muk."
Back to training, Hassan added a new routine before pitching.
"Huuuuh."
Deep breaths, taking in the scenery.
Even everyday views held beauty if you looked.
Calm mind, ball flies true.
The daily catcher was stunned.
"Ooh, nice ball!!"
Consistent strikes, unlike before.
Ma Deok-su followed up:
"Control's solid now—no big worries. Pitchin' starts at 2 PM. It's noon; scarf lunch quick and you're golden. Goin' up straight?"
Hassan hesitated, something nagging him.
"Coach, got a question."
"Shoot."
"Wanna train more. Still can't control the other personality, so..."
"So?"
"Will the team lose without me?"
"What? Ha, hahaha!!"
Ma Deok-su doubled over, laughing his ass off.
He slapped his knee.
"Lose without you? Oh lord..."
Wiping laugh-tears, he clapped Hassan's shoulder.
"Ditch the worry. Train 'til you got it. Heh heh!"
Extended training it was.
Ma Deok-su knew the pitching staff's state but trusted his ace up the sleeve.
Cha Park-gu ain't gettin' shelled helpless no more.
Knuckleball's weaker at altitude, sure—but Park Chan-jun's prime form? Bankable.
Plan: Hassan arrives post-6th. Extra time secured.
But...
...Didn't expect him to get shelled this bad.
Ma Deok-su cringed at his bold words now embarrassing him.
Without Hassan, they were toast.
Cha Park-gu needs a private session post-game.
Never thrown a knuckler himself, but buddies with legends? He could adjust.
Big games like this? Get shelled, balance crumbles. One-on-one fix incoming.
"Swap him now. Ham's warmed up on the way."
"Y-yes, sir!!"
Coach Myeong Sinu nodded sharply, signaling the change.
Bottom 4th, no outs, score 11-4.
Hassan took the mound.
"Chan-jun hyung, sorry. I'm late."
"Hassan..."
Park Chan-jun tugged his cap low, emotions surging.
He looked genuinely guilty.
"Sorry, Hassan. I blew it."
"...No, hyung. I'll fix it now."
No more wishy-washy Hassan.
Seong Muk strolled in from right field, grinning.
"Hassan, got what you wanted?"
"You know it, Seong-muk hyung."
"Good man. We'll score plenty— just rear back and fire."
"Got it, hyung!!"
Seong Muk thumbs-upped and headed back.
Park Chan-jun to the dugout.
Alone on the mound, Hassan steadied his breath.
"Huuu."
...Thanks to Coach Deok-su.
He'd just aimed to fix control, but clearing stray thoughts expanded Hassan's mind—he even grasped controlling the other personality.
The stadium roared, but Hassan's heart was still.
He recited the first verse of Allah's Apostle.
"Ishtiyaq (اشتیاق/longing)."
Beeeep——
Hassan's hearing warped away again.
"Jang (زنگ/corrosion)."
Next, vision twisted.
The whole stadium flipped.
"Azm (عزم/resolve)."
The world rippled.
Metaphysical stadium warp—but he pressed on.
"Nur (نور/light)!"
"Haqq (حق/truth)...!!"
Sensory penalties piled on in real-time. Hallucinations that'd crush a normal person engulfed him.
But Hassan didn't flinch.
He'd realized:
This ain't Allah's wrath or nothin'.
Just desperate thrashing to avoid losing control.
Then, a booming voice demanded he stop.
'You scum! Hassan Iqbal! Stop this instant!!'
"Who're you?"
'I am the one true god you serve—Allah!!'
"...You're Allah."
'Daring to control this body? Blasphemy! Cease and yield control!'
'Do so, and I'll forgive you like the sea—and smash those weaklings flat!'
Sweet temptation from the voice.
But Hassan's face hardened.
"What're you babblin', you stray ghost."
'Wha—what!?'
"Great one like Allah wouldn't visit a lowly believer like me."
'Huh...?'
"Darin' to impersonate Allah, you filthy ghost...!"
'Impersonate myself? What nonsense is this, you heretic!!'
Hassan truly saw it as a ghost impersonator; the self-proclaimed Allah lost for words.
Hassan stood firm.
Believing it a fake, he ignored it and chanted the rest.
"Repent, impostor! Fazr (فجر/dawn), Iman (ایمان/faith), Itaat (اطاعت/obedience)...!!"
'Gaaah, grrrraaah! You heretic bastard!!!'
The fake Allah lost all control to Hassan.
In that instant, an invisible status window popped up over Hassan's head.
Hassan Iqbal has fully mastered the skill!
Maintains sanity even when Allah's Apostle activates!
Allah's Apostle (S+) skill activates!
Hassan Iqbal's control: C+ → B
Hassan Iqbal's pitch power: A → A+
"By Allah's command..."
The automatic submission words tried to spill out.
The feral glint in Hassan's eyes faded to calm.
"Watch over me, O Lord."
He'd use this ghost's borrowed power—impersonating the divine—to save his teammates.
"Huuu..."
Powerful windup.
A blazing first pitch exploded from his hand.
CRAAACK——!!!