Ma Deok-su's Comeback Home
Top of the 8th.
Two outs, runner on first.
Cheon Ji-uk still on the mound.
At first glance, it looked like an easy out, but that runner on first was no pushover.
Thwack!
"Three outs!"
Despite repeated pickoff attempts, Choi Adam darted back to the bag in a flash.
He'd stretched his lead wide enough to rattle Cheon Ji-uk's nerves, but every time a pickoff came, he snapped back to first with insane reaction speed.
'That bastard Cheon Ji-uk... got wrecked by Geum Seong-muk and now he's all rattled, huh?'
Choi Adam had noticed Cheon Ji-uk seemed less composed than before.
He decided to torment the guy thoroughly.
Thwack!
"Strike!"
Hwang Tae-gang snatched the ball and fired to second in a blur.
Straight fastball, perfect pop time, spot-on throw—flawless execution... but...
Whoosh!
"Safe...!!"
Choi Adam was faster.
His legs, now among the top five in high school baseball, were untouchable.
Bujeon High had no choice but to surrender second base.
The announcers gasped in admiration at Choi Adam.
This steal, one everyone assumed would be caught, hit Cheon Ji-uk's mentality even harder.
"Tch, that little shit..."
At second, Choi Adam widened his lead even more.
Cheon Ji-uk shot him a glance.
"........."
He knew he couldn't let this clown keep running wild.
He tried a pickoff to prevent a dash to third—but...
"Pitcher's balk!"
"......!!"
He'd balked.
Cheon Ji-uk's mentality was so shaken he was making basic errors.
The fallout carried over to his matchup with Do Dojin.
Crack!
"Hah, hah... ugh..."
Cheon Ji-uk's face muscles twitched.
Had his circle changeup ever been squared up like this?
Already at his pitch count limit.
Manager Yang Hyuk-jae sighed deeply and headed to the mound.
7.2 innings, 4 runs allowed.
For a top ace nationwide, it was a disappointing line as he trudged off.
Descending the mound, his eyes met Seo Ye-bin in the stands.
Smirk!
".........!!"
Ye-bin gazing at him with a venomous smile.
To her, this was hilarious.
"Nice face, Cheon Ji-uk."
The guy who'd lorded over the team with his privileged attitude got demolished by Seong-muk's squad—the one he'd dismissed.
Ye-bin had a feast of follow-up blows ready for after the game.
"...I'm not gonna fold soft like Seong-muk."
Her motto: Crush thoroughly to leave no loose ends. Not just for herself, but for Seong-muk—so she'd be extra ruthless.
Thwack!
"Strike three!!"
Bottom of the 8th: Geum Seong-muk retired Jang Dong-pil on a grounder, then fanned Seon Gi-cheol.
He shone brighter than anyone in the park right now.
"Incredible... really..."
Tears welled in Ye-bin's eyes.
Two years ago, after Seong-muk broke up with her, she'd heard he'd spiraled endlessly.
Guilt gnawed at her: Had she ruined his life?
But now?
He'd risen as the most-watched pitcher in high school.
Overwhelming male prowess, bulldozing trials no ordinary high schooler could endure.
For him, she'd do anything.
Whoosh!
"Strike out!!"
"Geum Seong-muk! Geum Seong-muk! Geum Seong-muk!"
Geum Seong-muk returned to the dugout amid a standing ovation. Some who'd come to cheer Bujeon High were now fans of his pitching.
GoyaGal users were already hyped.
Acting like Munhyeok High had the win in the bag.
But bottom of the 9th wasn't so easy.
Crack!!
Cleanup hitter's extra-bases with two outs—could happen.
But then...
Crack!
"......!!"
Ri Donghyeok got tagged by a big one.
Bukhang Dome's high walls gave hope, but it cleared them anyway.
One homer made it 3-4.
Munhyeok High breathing down the wire.
Bujeon High's rally didn't stop.
Crack!
"What the hell's up with Donghyeok?"
Geum Seong-muk was more baffled than anyone.
Ri Donghyeok wasn't himself today.
"Shit, this is bad... ugh."
Even coach Myeong Sinu gnawed his fingers anxiously. He'd trusted Ri Donghyeok to lock down a three-run lead, so Hassan and Park Chan-jun hadn't even warmed.
Now, Ri Donghyeok had to eat it or save it.
Geum Seong-muk went to Ma Deok-su.
"Grandpa, got any tricks?"
"........."
"Grandpa!?"
"...!!"
Ma Deok-su jolted.
His eyes snapped open behind the sunglasses, head turning to Seong-muk.
"My ears are ringing, kid."
"Tch, Grandpa. Too chill? Donghyeok's about to blow it."
"...Hmm."
Ma Deok-su scowled at Ri Donghyeok.
A quick glance, and he had the read.
"Geum Seong-muk."
"Yeah?"
"You go up, relay my words..."
"Yeah?"
Ma Deok-su trailed off.
He could barely stay conscious, let alone move.
'But if I don't go myself, that stubborn kid won't buy it.'
Ri Donghyeok was bullheaded about his sinker.
Only Ma Deok-su could convince him.
"Forget it. I'll go."
Gripping the bench, Ma Deok-su hauled himself up.
His blurry vision was bad enough; the sunglasses hiding his identity chafed too.
"Fuckin' hell."
He chucked them.
Bare-faced, Ma Deok-su climbed the mound.
"I-is that...?!"
"No way!?"
Cameras zoomed; Busan uncles who'd followed baseball for decades buzzed. Time had passed, but Ma Deok-su's scowl was unmistakable.
"Ma, Ma. Deok-su gramps here?!"
"Dad! Turn up the TV quick! Ma Deok-su's at Bukhang Dome!!"
Busan Cups legend Ma Deok-su.
After decades in hiding, he emerged. Announcers lost it.
GoyaGal skewed young, but core fans knew legends like Ma Deok-su.
Chat exploded as he mound-visited.
"Ma Deok-su! Ma Deok-su! Ma Deok-su!!"
Chants started sparse, then echoed through Bukhang Dome.
Both teams stunned.
Ma Deok-su scanned the stands, rubbed his ears.
"Tch, damn Busan bastards. All lungs, no class."
Still, the roar—like his playing days—didn't seem to bother him.
He eyed Ri Donghyeok.
"Hey, Ri Donghyeok."
"Yes, sir."
"You dumb fuck, you got a brain or not?"
".........!!"
Ri Donghyeok's pupils shook.
Ma Deok-su nailed it.
"Following my advice is fine, but you can't even find your footing and you're experimenting in a huge game?"
"...Sorry."
Ri Donghyeok hung his head.
After Ma Deok-su's tips, he'd waffled; tried to lock in direction here.
Failed spectacularly.
Gave up a two-run shot, loaded bases, crisis mode.
No face for teammates. Deadly serious, he asked:
"What should I do?"
"What, complicated? Do what you do."
Ma Deok-su dropped that and turned coolly.
Even after he left, "Ma Deok-su" echoed.
"Hoo..."
Ri Donghyeok steadied his breath.
One phrase looped:
Do what you do.
No stray thoughts.
No next steps.
Just the best pitch he could throw right now.
Whip!
"Strike!!"
Whip!
Thwack!
"Foul...!!"
Count 2-2.
Ri Donghyeok snapped back post-visit.
'Tch, tough again.'
No. 7 Jang Dong-pil narrowed on the sinker.
Then—that pitch Ma Deok-su taught: upshoot rising near the zone.
Whoosh!
"Strike three!!"
Ri Donghyeok pumped his fist.
Trials aside, he'd closed the door himself.
"Waaaaaah!!"
"We won!!"
Victory sealed, Munhyeok High mobbed the mound, hugging in joy.
"Good work, everyone."
"Yo, Geum Seong-muk, you too."
"Great job, Geum Seong-muk si ju."
Captain Seong-muk high-fived, encouraging teammates.
Then he spotted someone alone in the dugout.
"Deok-su Grandpa?"
Ma Deok-su slumped like dozing, head bowed.
Seong-muk approached to share the win—but saw it.
Ma Deok-su's body tilted, then crumpled to the dirt.
Seong-muk's eyes trembled.
He realized he was sprinting madly to the dugout.
"DEOK-SU GRAMPS AAAAAAHHH!!!"