The Weight of Leadership, The Weight of an Older Sister
Tap, tap-tap.
In a quiet café in Busan.
Doyeon hammered away at her laptop keyboard nonstop.
She was waiting for Seong-muk.
The team should have already headed to Jeonju by now, but they were still stuck in Busan due to Coach Ma Deok-su's situation.
The association had understandingly provided a suitable training field, so there were no real issues with practice.
Having come down to Busan to watch the games in person, just like Munhyeok High, Doyeon took advantage of a lull to pull up some sports news articles.
They were packed with pretty negative takes on Munhyeok High.
Clash! Lee Tae-bin vs. Hassan—Who Will Prevail?
Top 10 Prestigious High School Coaches Unanimous: "Baekro High Will Dominate."
Lee Tae-bin Says: "Sorry I Won't Face Geum Seong-muk Directly, But We'll Win Without Slacking Off."
High School Baseball Fans' Poll: Baekro High 81%, Munhyeok High 19%.
Baseball Analyst: "Munhyeok High's Miracle Is Finally Over."
Baekro High Coach Kim Ho-tae: "Lose to Munhyeok High? Not a Chance."
"Hmm, as expected."
The criticism was even sharper than she'd imagined.
Right then, Seong-muk arrived at the café.
"Noona, sorry to keep you waiting."
"Ah, Seong-muk!"
Doyeon lit up with a smile.
As Seong-muk sat down, she asked with evident concern.
"Is Coach Deok-su doing okay?"
"Can't say he's great, honestly."
"I see..."
"Anyway, think we can win?"
"Well..."
Doyeon hesitated to answer.
Normally she'd fire back with something like, 'Unlike those other guys, I think Munhyeok High's got this!' But sadly, even her own analysis came out the same way this time.
"If you were pitching, I could've bumped our win probability up to 50-50. But with another pitcher? It's in the single digits, like 10%."
"Hmm."
Seong-muk let out a low groan.
He'd grinded the original story for thousands of hours himself, so he knew just how terrifying Baekro High was.
Even stronger than Bujeon High, which was also a top-5 national contender—they were a cut above.
Baekro High had firepower where they needed it, pitching, defense... no weak spots anywhere.
And topping it all off was their ace lefty, Lee Tae-bin.
If not for freaks like Seo Hui-geon, he'd have been the undisputed national number-one pitcher.
"Every time I run the numbers, their data team feels off the charts too."
"How good?"
"On my level... or better."
Doyeon couldn't hide her tension.
From Seong-muk's perspective, the situation was almost funny.
The world's top talent being this humble...
Of course, Baekro High's analysts were probably dissecting Munhyeok High down to the microscopic level. But Doyeon wouldn't lose to them. After all, she'd end up reigning as the overwhelming number one even among pro analysts.
"Nah, you're better, Noona. I stake my name on it."
"Seong-muk..."
Doyeon looked touched by his faith in her.
She pulled out some prepared documents and handed them over.
"First off, I picked out our Munhyeok High hitters who might handle Lee Tae-bin decently."
"Let's see."
Seong-muk took the list.
Three names stood out prominently.
"Seok Un-gang, Do Dojin, and me. Excluding me, both righties."
"Yeah, Lee Tae-bin's famous as a lefty-killer. Even gave up a homer to a righty in the World Cup finals, right?"
Lee Tae-bin was dominant against lefties.
For their lineup heavy on lefty power in the middle, that was a real problem.
"Might need to tweak the batting order a bit."
"Yeah, you should run it by the coach."
Doyeon nodded in agreement.
But Seong-muk had a question about the data.
"Why'd you think I'd hit him well? I'm a lefty too."
"You don't really care about pitcher handedness. Heck, you hit lefties even better sometimes."
"Ah, got it."
Come to think of it, Seong-muk couldn't recall ever fearing a lefty.
He nodded, convinced.
Kinda wish I'd faced him in the World Cup to get a look at his stuff beforehand.
Back then, after the opener, he'd planned to step up to the plate.
But it went nine innings without his turn, so he'd never seen Lee Tae-bin's pitches up close.
Even a couple at-bats would've helped crack the pitcher. Regrettable.
Moving on, Doyeon shifted to defense.
"Next up: fielding issues. You know anything about Jeonju Dome's quirks?"
"Outfield's huge?"
"Right. The fences are low, but the distances are massive."
Jeonju Dome saw tons of triples when balls snuck over outfielders' heads. It clearly bugged Doyeon.
"So here's my proposal."
She flipped the page.
A pretty bold solution was laid out.
"Me in center field."
"Yeah, that's the best play."
Doyeon stated it firmly.
Center field range would be crucial in this game.
Ji's speed wasn't bad, but it might not cover Jeonju Dome's vast outfield.
Seong-muk, on the other hand, could boost his speed to S+ or higher when needed.
No better center fielder available.
"I'm fine with it, but not sure if Ji Suyong can handle corner outfield."
Ji Suyong had botched several plays in the Cheonghyeon High days as a corner guy.
He was solid in center now, but the old image lingered.
"Might be tough?"
"Worth a shot. I'll pass it along."
Ji Suyong had awakened in various ways after that pre-seeding training on the deep-sea trawler.
Seong-muk held some quiet hope for it.
"Next: strategies for game day..."
Doyeon shared all sorts of helpful insights.
Seong-muk listened intently, not missing a word.
That wrapped up the Baekro High briefing.
As always, Seong-muk expressed his thanks.
"Thanks, Noona. Super helpful today too."
"Mhm, glad it was."
Doyeon stood to leave.
As she tidied up, she suddenly froze, staring at Seong-muk's eyes.
"Seong-muk."
"Yeah?"
"How many hours did you sleep last night?"
"........."
Seong-muk went silent.
Dark circles shadowed his eyes heavily.
"Like two?"
"Oh my god."
Doyeon covered her mouth.
She couldn't fathom why.
"Why? Something worrying you?"
"...Just training got away from me."
He was handling team practices by day, then reviewing Coach Ma Deok-su's final lessons at night to make them his own.
He knew rationally he needed rest, but fatigue was piling up.
"You're impossible."
Doyeon looked genuinely pained.
Without hesitation, she moved to his side and pulled him into a tight hug.
"You must be exhausted."
".......!!"
Seong-muk's face buried in her ample chest.
An overwhelming weight that could jolt anyone awake.
He liked it, honestly, but this wasn't the place.
"...Noona, people are watching."
"Ah."
Doyeon finally noticed the stares.
But comforting Seong-muk overrode everything right now.
He looks so worn out.
Decision made, she grabbed his hand without a second thought.
"Let's go to my car. Parked right out front."
"……?!"
Seong-muk let her lead him.
Somehow, he ended up in the back seat of her SUV.
"………."
No resistance from Seong-muk.
A strange silence hung in the air, thick with anticipation of what might happen.
Doyeon sat beside him, tugged his body over, and laid his head in her lap.
"Get some rest, Seong-muk."
"...Huh?"
Seong-muk blinked.
Her hand gently stroked his hair.
But he wasn't planning to sleep just yet.
"Training starts in 40 minutes. No time."
"I'll drive you. Please, just a little. Okay?"
"Tch."
Seong-muk never dozed off right before practice—he always warmed up properly.
But drowsiness crept in anyway.
Her soft stroking continued, and soon he drifted off.
"...You really were beat."
The first time she'd seen him asleep.
She brushed his bangs from his forehead with a soft smile, cheeks flushing pink.
"Sweet dreams, Seong-muk."
She hoped to see this sight forever.
Another peaceful day in Jeonju.
In reality, it had a neat hanok village lined with traditional Korean houses. But here? No.
This was a hanok city.
Hanok apartments.
Hanok hospitals.
Hanok office buildings, and more...
Who could call a place with skyscrapers built in authentic hanok style a mere village?
Among them stood an eye-catching building: a massive hanok high school sprawling over university-sized grounds. Baekro High School.
A private school boasting huge academic disparities, its students swelled with pride from attending this prestigious yangban academy. Fittingly elite in baseball too—Jeolla Province's undisputed powerhouse.
Baekro High's state-of-the-art practice field.
Who'd expect cutting-edge facilities inside an ancient hanok?
"Heh, nice and relaxed."
Baekro High coach Bae Yong-hwan watched training in his suit.
Munhyeok High's coach Myeong Sinu had fumbled spectacularly, letting Baekro prep leisurely for the Jeonju semifinals.
Crack!
Thwack!
Wham!
Boom!
Hitting and fielding sounds echoed nonstop in the hanok field.
Like perfectly meshed gears—no wasted motion.
A few players particularly stood out.
"Nein, Nein, Nein, Nein!!!"
(This isn't it!!)
Crack, thwack!
A batter swinging like he meant to split the ball.
Walter Jaeger, the German bomber.
Hailed as Germany's greatest hitting talent ever, he'd drawn scouts from Korea's top schools. Some offered better deals than Baekro, but he chose here anyway.
Because he was a hardcore hanok fanatic.
"The beauty of hanok is the world's numbeeeeer oooone!!"
Famous for panting excitedly along hanok streets.
He'd quit baseball and return to Germany if any team outside Jeonju Nationals drafted him—his love for the city was legendary.
Thwaaack!
Muscles rippling unbelievably for a high schooler.
His power remained top-tier.
"Nein, Nein, Nein, Nein!!!"
(No, that's not it!!)
"Walter's smashing line drives left and right—what's he dissatisfied with?"
"Leave him be. It's not like it's new."
Teammates brushed off his antics like old news.
Next to catch the eye: two recent national team returnees.
Crack!
"Ooh, Yoon-chan's in form."
Thwack!
"Joo-won's killing it too."
Je Yoon-chan, Korea's top shortstop beyond Jeolla.
Han Joo-won, Jeonbuk's best outfielder.
Key cogs in Baekro's lineup after starring in the national team's championship run.
"Lucky break, though, Yoon-chan."
"What?"
"Geum Seong-muk's not starting. Honestly, facing him scares me."
"Fair."
Even the nation's best shortstop acknowledged Seong-muk's godlike status.
They'd seen his monstrous performances up close on the national team.
"Oh ho, looks like someone's bummed he's not pitching."
"Yeah, totally."
Wham!
"Next: knuckle curve!!"
Pop!
"Okay, nice ball!!"
Breaking balls hitting the catcher's mitt spot-on.
Lee Tae-bin, national lefty number two, fired pitches with ferocious intensity.
"Tae-bin's locked in hard."
"He no-hit through the finals, but Geum Seong-muk's perfect game made him the losing pitcher. Gotta sting."
One solo homer after ramping up cost him the win. Photos of his dejected bow plastered front pages worldwide—he had every reason to grit his teeth.
Wham!
"Kya, killer!"
Lee Tae-bin unleashed a barrage of nasty breaking stuff like a chameleon.
He was pretty pissed right now.
Geum Seong-muk... no matchup against him as starters!
He'd planned to crush Munhyeok High's lineup for revenge that day.
But their likely starter was Hassan.
Awakened or not, to a top national lefty like him, Hassan was just Pitcher A. Small consolation: Seong-muk would bat.
Lee Tae-bin vowed it.
He'd dominate batter Geum Seong-muk and avenge the World Cup finals no matter what.
"Hurry up and get to Jeonju, Geum Seong-muk!"
Lee Tae-bin glanced outside the field.
There loomed the pinnacle of this hanok city's madness.
The Hanok Dome Stadium, its entire roof tiled in traditional giwa.
Jeonju: where tradition met cutting-edge tech in glorious insanity.
A city joked to have more roof tiles than bricks, waiting for Munhyeok High.