Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Golden Sun vs. Tattooed Pig Thugs
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"...Phew, is this the right way?"
I'd been running along at full tilt and somehow managed to get lost.
The pitching center I was headed to was in a pretty remote spot.
Tsk, why the hell is Geum Seong-muk so broke?
I'd scrounged every pocket I could think of, but all I'd come up with was about 30,000 won. It was enough to make me sigh in poverty.
Still, without a catcher to take pitches, I needed some kind of facility, so to save money, I was making my way to this cheap, out-of-the-way pitching center.
Well, for now, I just need to measure my velocity. I'll find an even cheaper spot later.
As I walked along thinking that, a pretty aggressive voice echoed from around the corner of an alley.
"Hey, Do-do bird."
"...Yes, sunbae."
"Is what I'm saying that hard to get?"
"No, it's not that, but..."
A group of three punks had a lone student cornered. The kid in the middle had a handsome face and a lean build, while the three surrounding him were all tattooed-up porkers with beer guts spilling over their belts.
Oho, this is...
It had been ages since I'd laid eyes on a scene like this—one straight out of my own school days—and it felt strangely nostalgic.
"Look, kid, you're smart, so why play hard to get? Your sister's single, right?"
"...Yes."
"Kya~ Perfect, then. Just introduce her to me. Yeah?"
"Sorry, but I can't do th—urk!"
The punk's fist slammed mercilessly into the boy's gut. He doubled over, gasping and choking, knees hitting the dirt.
"Agh, you little shit. Hey, Do-do bird! You gonna keep making me feel like a chump?"
"Even so, my sister's off li—"
"Fine, we'll beat some sense into you till you change your mind, asshole!"
Thwack! Thud!
And with that, the thugs started laying into him with brutal kicks.
Hmm...
As I watched the group beatdown unfold,
"Hey."
I ignored it and kept walking toward them, footsteps steady.
"?"
My single word drew every eye in the alley. The punks flinched. Probably shocked by the sheer physical gap.
At 192cm and built like a tank, I towered over them. They were barely scraping 170cm late, all flab and no muscle—real porkers.
After a quick huddle, they turned to me with tense faces.
"What the hell do you want? Got business with us?"
One was even sweating bullets, clearly wanting no part of this.
I spoke calmly to them.
"Move aside. Let me through."
"Uh? Oh."
With four of them blocking the narrow alley, there was no room to pass. They stuck to the wall like glue, making space.
I walked past without a second glance.
Sorry, but I've got my own nose to pick.
Whether I could save the kid or not, I didn't have the bandwidth to play hero. Sure, I could probably handle it with some effort, but 1v3 fights are always full of variables.
Who knows what random injury this body's hiding? One stray brick to the head and I'm done.
That was the plan—walk on by.
"...Wait a sec."
But the name the punk had called the kid by suddenly pinged something.
Do-do bird... Do-do...?
Not his real name, obviously, but it tied to something. And with a sister hot enough to catch these thugs' eyes...
Do Do-yeon!?
It hit me like lightning.
Even I, who'd skipped most heroine routes, knew that standout name.
Do Do-yeon.
Always topping the viewer polls for heroines.
They said if you romanced her successfully, her 'Analytical Eye' skill made supporting the protagonist tier-1 stuff.
Though I suspect her popularity had other reasons...
Probably those watermelon-sized assets up top.
They said making contact with her was a nightmare...
She had severe social anxiety, rarely left the house—meeting her was like chasing stars.
Now I had a reason I couldn't ignore.
Back then, I'd ditched her route as unnecessary. But now? Heroines were my oases in this hellish difficulty desert.
In a scripted game, affection mattered for heroine help. But this world was real enough for free talk. She wouldn't slam the door on the guy who saved her brother, right?
I turned back and headed toward the punks still kicking away.
"Hey, cut it out."
"...??"
They stared at me like I'd lost my mind for popping up and barking orders. I dug in my ear and said,
"Something just came up with that kid. Sorry, but I'm borrowing him today."
"Ha, get real..."
Fueled by some sudden burst of balls, they spat on the ground and closed in.
"Who the fuck is this guy? Why's he marking our prey like it's his? Huh?"
"We let you slide before, and now you're crawling back. You wanna die?"
Maybe rebounding from their earlier scare, they puffed up their lats and circled me.
Pathetic as they looked, I didn't take the odds lightly.
3v1. Not easy.
I had kickboxing experience from my youth, so fighting wasn't the issue. But this unfamiliar body in a 3-on-1? Tricky.
Right then—
Tingle!
"...!"
A heavy vibration pulsed through my groin.
Like an instinct urging me to let my body take over—purposeful, directed.
And it pointed straight to—
Thwack—!
"Gweeeek...!"
The nearest punk's right side.
My kick slammed home without mercy.
The solid thud traveled up my leg.
"Ahh..."
This was it.
That heavy, satisfying rush.
The thrill I'd only felt in pro bench-clearing brawls coursed through me.
Bam!
Punk #1 flew back into a corrugated iron sheet on the alley wall and slumped, out cold.
Just now, definitely...
Something had egged me on. Like it itched to hit that exact right side out of everywhere else.
"Wh-what...?"
"This can't be real...!"
The remaining two were wide open, panic written all over them.
Tingle, tingle, tingle...!
Fresh vibrations rocked my core, riding the flow to rip their weaknesses apart.
"Got it, assholes...!"
Crack! Pow!
No sweat.
One to the gut, one to the jaw.
Terror-weakened guards crumbled in one shot.
Thud!
One-hit KOs.
All three down.
"Hoo..."
As I calmed the adrenaline surging through me, something caught my eye.
A cigarette one punk had dropped.
I'd quit a while back, but in this chaos, that single stick looked like gold.
Rummage rummage—
I fished out a lighter from my pocket, lit up, and took a deep drag.
"...Woo-hoo."
How long had it been since I'd felt this?
A bizarre sense of release washed over me, tension finally easing.
But that weird sensation earlier...
No way that was a normal body reaction.
Don't tell me it's a skill...?
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ You can view Do Do-jin's status. Would you like to view it? [ Yes / No ] I checked my status window. Reviewed my skills again.
⚔ STATUS ⚔ Skill: Tingly Sensor (F) ⚡ Description: Born with superior equipment below, you instinctively sense opponents' weaknesses through your heightened groin sensitivity. Cannot be used during games. "Hmm..."
The game ban was a huge penalty no matter how you sliced it. Still, lost in thought about how useful it'd be otherwise, a booming voice rang out.
"Thank you for saving me!"
The beat-up kid scrambled to his feet and bowed deeply. Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about him.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Do Do-jin! Nice to meet you!"
He bowed again.
His over-the-top politeness felt awkward; I scratched my head as a system window popped up.
I'd hit 'Yes' earlier—the name seemed to be the trigger, since it hadn't appeared before.
⚔ STATUS ⚔ Name: Do Do-jin Nationality: South Korea Age: 17 (High School 2nd Year) Height: 174cm Affiliation: Jinseong High School
> Skill: Tactical Execution (B) Enhances performance in executing plays during games.
> Potential Keywords: Hitting Prodigy (*A), Hawk Eye (*A+), Defense Prodigy (*A+)
> Batter Stats (*Potential) / Right Throw, Right Bat Power: F Contact: C+ (*A) Speed: B Eye: B+ (*A+) Defense: B (*A+) Arm: B Recommended Position: Second Baseman
Nice.
Do Do-jin, saved for his sister's sake, was a solid prospect. Once his talents bloomed, he'd start on any decent high school powerhouse team. Even pros could use him for bench depth.
...But I've never heard this name before.
Jinseong High had a baseball team, but they weren't powerhouses. No way he couldn't crack the lineup there.
Since he flew under the radar, something else was holding him back. Probably sister-related.
"You know how to catch, right?"
I asked anyway. He looked surprised, then nodded eagerly.
"Yep! I can do it."
"Then follow me. Catch for me a bit."
#####
We chatted as we headed to the pitching park.
He was too formal, so I told him to just call me bro.
"By the way, who were those pig fuckers?"
"...Our school's senior delinquents. They're tight with the baseball team seniors, so I can't do shit about it."
Do Do-jin scratched his cheek.
"They bullying you over that sister of yours...?"
"Yeah, she's... pretty stunning, if I do say so. Draws a lot of flies."
"...Ho."
I was one of those flies buzzing for a connection, so it stung a bit, but I grinned and pushed open the pitching center door.
"Huh, not bad at all."
I'd even rifled the punks' pockets for extra cash. Feeling good, I entered the 'Myeongseong Pitching Center.'
A few kids were playing strikeout games. We found an empty bay and settled in.
"Here."
"Ah, got it."
I tossed him the beat-up catcher's mitt from the entrance. With B defense, he'd manage fine even without pro experience.
After about five minutes of loosening up, I settled into my pitching stance.
The form from my peak years—devouring the domestic league, shocking MLB scouts.
Stability, deception, power: flawless. Now reborn in this new body.
"Heads up, here it comes."
"Yep, fire away! Seong-muk hyung-nim...!"
Do Do-jin slapped his glove and crouched.
I threw at about 70% effort.
The radar gun over the catcher's head lit up:
[101km/h]
"........."
"........."
A number that left us speechless.
Do Do-jin seemed shocked his "full effort" fastball clocked so low, but he slapped the mitt and yelled,
"It's fine, hyung! One more!"
I steeled myself, kicked hard.
This time, 100% power!
[117km/h]
".............."
".............."
We were both stunned.
Do Do-jin floundered, unsure how to console me.
I threw on silently, like it was nothing.
5 pitches, 10, 15, 20...
Around 30, I stopped.
I'd realized something.
"Hoo..."
Not a normal injury.
No pain at all.
Not yips either—muscle tension from pressure.
The issue with my unlisted velocity and shoulder stats was the worst case: what every player dreaded.
Pitching Yin Blocked Meridian...!
Pitching Yin Blocked Meridian.
A fictional martial arts ailment in this game, rare but infamous. Fatal blockage in the shoulder meridians vital for pitchers—blood flow cut off.
So rare you rarely saw it, but if it hit, no warmup heated the shoulder.
📰 Breaking News Title: ㅠㅠ My fave character seems to have Pitching Yin Blocked Meridian. Is there no cure? 💬 Comments (13) — Anonymous No cure. Start over. GG — Anonymous Forcing more pitches just risks injury. — Anonymous ↳ Reply If potential's decent, seriously consider converting to hitter. 2B, 1B, or DH uses less shoulder. — Anonymous Met all the in-game docs. No one knows the cause. Community consensus: pitcher's career over.
"Ha, haha..."
"...Seong-muk hyung?"
"Puhahaha...!!"
I tried holding it in, but the laughter burst out.
He looked baffled at me cracking up mid-pitch.
But how could I not?
"Ha, guess there's no such thing as an easy death."
"...?"
Do Do-jin eyed me worriedly.
But I was genuinely thrilled.
I know the fix.
As a game vet, I knew.
Not just a cure for Pitching Yin Blocked Meridian—but a way to milk every last drop of benefit!