220 million won, deposited under the name “Kang Juhyuk.”
That was the price of his fifteen years of life since elementary school, and the price of grinding his already tattered left shoulder into dust.
Of course, it wasn’t a small sum.
The problem was, aside from wrecking his shoulder, he never learned another way to make money.
“Doesn’t even hit 120 degrees anymore.”
Throwing the last ball of his life not with his left hand but with his right, the powerless baseball slammed against the wall and dropped. Leaving it behind, he trudged back to his shabby home.
A cramped-as-hell one-room, but at least it was tidy and clean.
The damn place was ridiculously expensive too, thanks to being stuck in a neighborhood with good schools.
Still, maybe because of the empty space left behind after he sold off all his baseball gear a few days ago, the room strangely looked a little bigger.
He threw open the window to clear out the musty air, let the chilly late-winter wind slap his face, then collapsed onto the mattress with a long sigh.
“…Should I look into delivery work or something?”
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