Chapter 8
Chapter 8
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Golden Sun vs Shaolin Temple
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Hoo, haa."
I had finally arrived at the heart of the Shaolin Temple.
I'd climbed an insane number of stairs to get here.
For most people, just making it up here would wreck their legs so bad they'd have to lie flat on their backs for days.
'Honestly, I was a bit nervous, but it wasn't that tough.'
My Stamina stat was a solid A+, the one stat that had bloomed the most for Geum Seong-muk. Thanks to that, it felt like nothing more than a decent warmup.
Daaang—
Daang—!
As the bell tolled even louder in my ears, I looked down and took in the breathtaking view. It was the kind of scenery that made you wonder if this was why people went hiking. After catching my breath, I headed toward the source of the ringing.
"......Hm?"
There were two monks straining to pull the bell ropes from either side, and opposite them stood a monk with a massive build.
Daaaang—!
He caught the bell hurtling toward him with tremendous force—using just one hand.
'How do you catch a bell with one hand...?'
Looking closer, it wasn't purely one-handed. He naturally pulled his left hand back in sync with the massive bronze bell's momentum, dispersing the shock through his entire body.
It was insane training—something you'd injure yourself doing without absolute faith in your abilities and perfect mastery of your physique.
"…A face I don't recognize."
Midway through his session, he must have sensed my gaze and stopped. He unwound the bandages wrapped around his hands and approached with palms pressed together in greeting.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Seok Un-gang."
"Geum Seong-muk."
My first impression of him was sheer size.
He was about my height at 192cm, with a hulking frame packed with rock-solid muscle and slightly slitted eyes that gave him a striking look.
'So this is the guy with the top high school catcher potential.'
Seeing him in a 2D image versus in person was night and day in terms of presence.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Seok Un-gang's status can be viewed. Would you like to view it?] [Yes / No] The prompt popped up right after he introduced himself. I selected Yes without hesitation.
⚔ STATUS ⚔ Name: Seok Un-gang
Nationality: Hong Kong
Age: 18 | Height: 189cm
Affiliation: Shaolin Temple Korea Branch
Skills: Demon Monk (S)
> Rage increases Power and Contact by one rank. Plate Vision decreases by one rank.
Potential Keywords: Heavenly Hitting Body (EX), Indestructible Diamond (S+)
⚡ Power: A+ (*S) 🎯 Contact: C+ 🏃 Speed: D 👁️ Plate Vision: B 🛡️ Defense: S (*S+) 💪 Arm: S (*S+) Throws/Bats: Right/Right | Recommended Position: Catcher
Nothing more needed saying.
The only high school catchers with Heavenly Hitting Body—who needed three or more S-grade potentials—were Seok Un-gang here and one other guy.
His rigorous Shaolin training had developed most of his key stats impressively. No wonder top schools were salivating.
'The skill's a bit situational, though.'
The Power and Contact boosts were insane, but how often would you make a monk of such pure faith rage? Pretty much useless.
Curious about his bizarre training, I asked,
"What kind of training is that...?"
"Ah, I imagine you're curious. Lately, to shore up my weaknesses, I've been honing the Tathagata Divine Palm Catch. Amitabha."
"……...??"
The Tathagata Divine Palm from wuxia novels?
I had no idea where to even start with that bizarre cross-cultural naming, but I forced a smile.
"Has layman Geum Seong-muk come to the temple to take me away?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Shall we start the challenge now?"
"No reason to wait. Let's do it."
"Follow me."
Seok Un-gang nodded and turned. Something felt off as I trailed behind him.
'This is inside the temple, right?'
The building we entered felt like stepping into a massive cave—insanely spacious.
“…………Wow.”
Dominating the center was a gigantic Buddha statue.
The serene, smiling figure radiated presence just by existing.
Seok Un-gang turned to face me, back to the statue, with a faint smile.
"This is the testing ground. All you have to do, layman, is throw balls to me from now on."
"Right here?"
It didn't look like any place for baseball.
Un-gang silently dropped his gaze to the floor. Following suit, I was stunned.
'...A mound?'
Incredibly, right where he'd indicated was a standard regulation pitcher's mound—like an isolated island.
'The game differs in all these little details.'
Low-budget games couldn't capture every character's quirks, after all.
I dug into the dirt, shaping the mound to my style. Meanwhile, Seok Un-gang donned full catcher's gear.
"Let me know when you're ready."
The rules were simple.
The pitcher throws 30 pitches of whatever type he wants, no advance warning. Seok Un-gang catches them all.
Catches every one: Seok Un-gang wins.
Makes him miss even one: pitcher wins.
Utterly unreasonable pitches don't count if missed.
Straightforward rules.
Insanely pitcher-friendly, yet no one had ever succeeded.
Catching without knowing the pitch type skyrockets difficulty. For him to handle every pitcher perfectly so far? Incredible didn't cover it.
'And there's this weird pressure here too.'
The colossal Buddha behind Seok Un-gang was one thing, but dozens of monks kneeling in rows on both sides, watching intently, added real weight.
“...Let's start.”
“Amitabha.”
Seok Un-gang nodded deeply, squatting into catcher's stance with his mitt raised.
“Hoo.”
I shook out the tension and settled into my windup.
“Hup...!”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Un-gang felt an odd sensation the moment he laid eyes on him.
The senses from this man calling himself Geum Seong-muk—his talent shone dazzlingly bright.
An enormous vessel.
For the first time, Un-gang felt real anticipation.
Maybe he'd found a pitcher intriguing enough to follow.
"Hup...!"
Geum Seong-muk kicked hard into his delivery.
Paang—!
The straight ball slammed into Un-gang's mitt.
The first pitch's velocity was utterly ordinary—nothing like he'd imagined.
'Around mid-130s km/h. Not warmed up yet?'
But the pitches that followed proved otherwise.
He started doubting seriously.
'He knows this level won't cut it with raw stuff. Why?'
Not some fluke chancer, though—the aura from Geum Seong-muk was anything but ordinary.
He couldn't explain it well, but squatting here, receiving pitches, Un-gang could vaguely glimpse an opponent's life story.
Geum Seong-muk was complicated.
Undeniably vast vessel, but the contents were murky.
Murky enough to put most villains to shame.
'Yet that murkiness is steadily washing away. How could someone like this exist?'
Even among those desperate enough to seek the temple, he'd never seen such a bizarre soul.
Un-gang could see the young man exerting tremendous effort to overturn his past mistakes. It aligned with the Buddhist path he pursued, but it didn't translate directly to pitcher value right now.
"15th pitch!"
Paang—!
Geum Seong-muk called it out loud, firing a slider that dove into Un-gang's mitt.
“Hmph...”
No budge. Geum Seong-muk snorted and swung his arm dismissively.
'This won't do.'
Straightforward approach wasn't working anymore.
He knew it better than anyone.
'Time to kick it into gear?'
“………Hm?”
The head monk overseeing Shaolin baseball—the temple's top talent—noticed Geum Seong-muk's subtle shift.
'That young man's up to something.'
“Hoo, 16th pitch...”
The air grew still.
Seong-muk slowly raised his right leg.
As his knee reached mid-torso, he held balance like a pendulum.
“Hup...!!”
His arm whipped forward fiercely.
“Oh...!?”
“...!”
Gasps erupted through the hall.
As if something monumental had just begun.