Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Chinese Getting Schooled? Leave It to Golden Sun!
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“Outrageous. How dare someone from a small country meddle in the affairs of a great nation...!!”
“……...??”
To think that this was coming from the guy who came to our country to study baseball. Absolutely ridiculous.
'They say guys deep into Chinese nationalism think completely differently.'
In this world's Joseon, just like in reality, there was a history of revering the Ming and Qing dynasties as superior states.
Of course, the difference was that they'd been even more thoroughly exploited under the guise of baseball than in real history. They'd dispatched top-tier baseball instructors as envoys and extracted massive tributes of gold and silver.
China, receiving elite training from Korea—the birthplace of baseball—had elevated its game considerably. This led sects like the Shaolin Temple and the Nine Great Sects to incorporate baseball into their training regimens.
'Of course, like any dictatorship, they squandered it all.'
Eventually, Mao Zedong—who later became China's leader—grew displeased with the martial sects gaining popularity through their superior baseball skills.
He sparked the Cultural Revolution and dismissed baseball with a single line: “That ball is a harmful ball.” The Red Guards rampaged, destroying everything baseball-related and setting Chinese baseball back by centuries.
Now the current chairman had declared a “baseball resurgence,” pouring trillions into it, but results were lackluster. They were even poaching players from fellow Chinese regions like Hong Kong and Taiwan for their national team.
And yet, with their own baseball education in shambles, anyone with money just came to study in Korea. This guy, probably the son of a Communist Party official, was no exception.
“Hmm, a small country, you say...”
I stroked my chin thoughtfully for a moment before muttering softly.
“But have you guys ever beaten us in an international tournament? Chinese baseball sucks.”
“…………!!”
The guy's eyes bulged wide.
He'd clearly been hit right in the pride.
China fancied itself a baseball powerhouse in Asia, but ever since international tournaments began, they'd never beaten Korean teams at any age group.
“Hmph! Once Chairman Xi's ‘baseball resurgence’ plan succeeds, Korea won't beat China for centuries. After all, baseball originated in China...!!”
“What the...”
Where was this dog barking from?
In this world, King Sejong inventing baseball was common knowledge, even to African natives. What nonsense was this?
Curiosity piqued, I decided to hear him out.
“If the Korean king who revered China as his superior state invented baseball, then it's as good as Chinese. Of course it is.”
“……….”
This guy was beyond hope.
I glanced around to confirm something.
'Good, no one's around, no CCTV either.'
Thanks to him picking this deserted spot, things were perfect. Time to set something up.
“Hey, chingchong.”
“Wha—ching, chingchong...!?”
A magic word that takes one second to say but ruins someone's day. Sure enough, he lost it instantly.
“You insolent Korean bastard...!!”
Ignoring his outburst, I folded my fingers one by one, counting off his offenses.
“Let's see. Talking shit to Un-gang, small country this, more bullshit, distorting history, and now cursing in Chinese... Normally, I wouldn't let it slide, but I've been lenient. Get on your knees, apologize once, and we're good.”
“Ridiculous! I should be the one receiving an apology...!!”
“Hmm, so you're not gonna?”
“Right! Apologize to me right n—”
Thwack!!
“Gahk!!”
My kick slammed into his gut, sending him sprawling. He stared in disbelief, clearly not expecting a pre-game hit from the opposing team.
“Cough... You dare lay hands on Tian Zifeng, third-generation scion of a Republic of China party elite...!!”
“Fuck, you talk too much. Go tattle to daddy then.”
“Fine! Your playing days are over! My father will tell everyone right now, make this a forfeit—”
“Got any proof?”
“Wha...?”
“Proof? No witnesses here, no CCTV.”
“……!!”
He whipped around frantically. As I'd checked, no one in sight. In desperation, he pointed at Un-gang.
“Seok Un-gang, you traitor! How can one Chinese comrade stay silent? Testify to this violence with me at the baseball committee...!”
“...This humble monk saw nothing.”
“Wha...!?”
After all that tantrum-throwing, did he really think Un-gang would side with him? Must've lived a cushy life.
“Grr... You bastards...!”
“There you are, Tian Zifeng.”
“……!!”
A massive shadow loomed over Tian Zifeng. Enter Dmitry Novik, the towering blond Russian catcher.
“Time to head back. Team assembly.”
“Oh, Novik! Perfect timing. Teach these guys a lesson. Especially that Korean—he assaulted me, so give him extra heat...!”
Now twisting the no-CCTV angle to his advantage, he ducked behind Novik's bulk. But Novik just sighed heavily.
“Sigh... Urgent business. We'll sort personal grudges later. Let's go.”
“You bastard, what did you just—deal with these scum right now...!”
Novik finally made his move.
On his own teammate, Tian Zifeng.
Grip!!
“Grahhh...!!”
“Cut it out, Tian Zifeng. There's a limit to my patience.”
Novik clamped one massive hand on his head, crushing down with raw strength. Clearly, plenty of built-up frustration there.
“S-Stop...”
Tian Zifeng's face drained white as he slapped at Novik's arm. Novik released him with a bitter grimace.
“...I'm tired of even wiping your ass. Stop picking fights for once.”
“Hahk, huff...!”
Freed, he gasped for air, then backpedaled and bolted.
“Kuh, you Korean and Hong Kong scum... I won't forgive you. See you on the field...!!”
With that peak nationalism display, he vanished. Left behind: me, Un-gang, and their team's Novik.
Novik scratched his head awkwardly before apologizing to us.
“...Sorry about that. He's been like this for ages.”
“We only face off once, no big deal. Must suck being teammates, though.”
“Don't remind me... His dad's sponsorship money means constant meddling.”
Apparently a real terror within his own team too. Even in this money-driven industry, that sounded rough.
“Anyway, I've heard about you two. Geum Seong-muk and Seok Un-gang, right?”
“Honored that Dmitry Novik from the Russian national team knows us.”
“Well, you're the supernova who crushed Geumgang High, and Seok Un-gang's Hong Kong's ace. Prospect rankings way above mine.”
Oh, right, that.
I'd seen the nationwide prospect rankings once when the chairman demanded top-20 recruits but forgot about it since.
'Novik's around 50th, I think.'
Sergei was late top-10s, Tian Zifeng barely cracking top-100. That raised one question.
'Where do I rank now?'
Im Tae-yul from Cheonghyeon High, whom I'd beaten in a starters' duel, was late 30s. Jang Tae-san from Geumgang High, early 20s. Probably somewhere in between. I'd check next update.
“Go easy on me, Geum Seong-muk. Haven't felt a good pitch lately.”
“Quit whining. I saw your homer last game.”
“Tch, busted?”
He shrugged with a grin, extending a hand to us with a friendly smile.
“Let's have a great game, you two.”
“Yes, looking forward to it.”
“You got it.”
Grip!!
We clasped hands firmly before parting ways. From here on, we'd meet as rivals on the diamond.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ On the way back to the group, I asked Seok Un-gang.
“Hey, Un-gang. Don't you think hitting him was a bit much?”
“……….”
He pondered briefly before shaking his head.
“No, I'm grateful to you, Seong-muk.”
“Why?”
“If you hadn't, I wouldn't have held back. I'd have struck, fallen into heart demons.”
“I see.”
Figured as much.
Un-gang was usually detached from worldly affairs, but his training wasn't perfect yet. Two triggers made him snap:
One was insulting Buddhism. The other, badmouthing Hong Kong. Especially if a Chinese guy did it—the effect multiplied.
'Better I handle it than him.'
With his personality, he'd confess even without evidence. “I used unnecessary violence; I'll pay the price.”
Couldn't lose our starting catcher mid-tournament over some Chinese punk. Protected a teammate, vented stress—one stone, three birds.
Make that three.
'Oh ho...'
Un-gang's subtle fire confirmed it: the S-grade skill Demon Monk, boosting power and contact one rank on rage, had activated.
This game would be fun.
“Everyone, assemble...!!”
The bellow drew the team together crisply. Arm-in-arm with the circle, I dropped a frank line.
“Guys, gotta say something first.”
“?”
“I'm in the worst shape today.”
“What...!?”
“How...!”
They freaked at the ominous opener. Couldn't tell the truth—stayed up all night because my dick wouldn't go down.
Desperately bullshitted.
“Y'know, everyone has off days. No reason, just feel like crap.”
“Tsk, that's bad...”
They voiced concerns.
But I grinned like it was nothing.
“Doesn't mean I'm planning to lose. You guys neither, right?”
“Damn right.”
“Yeah, Seong-muk hyung. No way we're losing after coming this far.”
Choi Adam and Do Do-jin nodded. I said something I normally wouldn't.
“I'll trust your defense today and swing for the fences. Cover me.”
“……!!”
Shocked—I never said stuff like that—but they grinned back.
“Leave it to us, hyungnim. Outfield's mine...!!”
“Hell yeah, when you put it like that, this big bro's gotta step up.”
Ji Su-yong smacked the glove I'd given him confidently; Ryu Ji stretched his neck with a laugh.
When I first transmigrated, it felt hopeless. Now, solid teammates backed me. Felt reassuring, honestly.
'Gotta eat 7 innings before Ri Dong-hyeok relieves. Hold 'em to 2 runs.'
Realistic goal. Solar Vein maxed at 3 innings strong on full throttle, one switch max.
'Plenty doable.'
Starters don't always pitch perfect. Been worse. Delivering quality in crap conditions? That's ace material.
“Let's go, bastards...!!”
“Wooo...!!”
We're climbing.
With these guys, to greater heights!