Power Pitcher
Passive
└ Fastball-type stats increase by 5.
└ Whiff rate on pitches inside the strike zone increases by 10%.
Active: Full Power Pitching
└ When activated, every pitch is locked to maximum velocity. Stamina consumption doubles.
Having finished the Awakening Quest, the old Blockhead Thrower—now reborn as Power Pitcher—was a skill built for one thing only: crushing hitters with raw force. The fastball-family bonus still carried the ghost of what I had been before the awakening. The vicious 50 percent wild-pitch penalty that used to yank every ball into the heart of the zone had transformed into something any pitcher would kill for: a clean 10 percent boost to swing-and-miss rates inside the strike zone.
Clean. Simple. Blunt. The message was unmistakable—go out there and overpower them.
The brand-new active effect, Full Power Pitching, was just as straightforward. Double the stamina cost, and in exchange you could fire at absolute peak velocity whenever you wanted.
Name:Han Doyoon
Position:Starting Pitcher
[Primary Stats]
– Stuff: 65
└ Fastball: 70+5
└ Slider: 60
└ Changeup: 55
└ Cutter: 60+5
– Movement: 60
– Control: 65
[Secondary Stats]
– Stamina: 65+5
– Pickoff: 55
Max Velocity:157 km/h
My top velocity now sat at a full 157 km/h. In a real game that number only showed up once or twice on a perfect day. Now I could dial it up whenever I felt like it. On top of that, my stamina was already 65, and with the Diamond Body bonus it climbed to 70. Even if I leaned on the gas a little hard, it wouldn’t wreck me.
“Wait a second….”
I suddenly remembered the option that had come with Quality Start, the reward from the third journey.
└ Through the end of the sixth inning, stamina-related penalties are reduced by 30%.
└ Through the end of the sixth inning, opposing batters’ plate discipline drops by 5.
What had looked like a lukewarm consolation prize a few minutes ago suddenly clicked into place beside Power Pitcher and became something entirely different. Even if Full Power Pitching burned stamina at double the normal rate, the penalty itself was cut by 30 percent until the sixth was over. In other words, I could mix in max-effort pitches without my pace visibly collapsing.
Of course it only softened the penalty from fatigue; it didn’t stop the fatigue itself. Dump too many full-throttle heaters and the bill would still come due after the sixth. But—
“Honestly, after that the bullpen can take over.”
Modern baseball is the age of specialization. A pitcher who can keep runs off the board for fewer innings is valued higher than one who grinds through long outings while leaking runs. In that light, the combination of Power Pitcher and Quality Start—nearly invincible performance guaranteed through six—was a perfect fit for the way the game is played now.
“Haa… finally free.”
For two solid months Blockhead Thrower and that damn Status Window had tormented me. The notification that popped up every time I threw—[Wild pitch occurred!]—the ball that got sucked into the middle of the plate against my will… all of it was history now.
“Haa… it’s really over.”
I let out a long, satisfied breath and plugged my phone into the charger. The second my head hit the pillow, the tension I had been holding back all day—the return start against my old team, the strong outing, the interviews, the mini autograph session—crashed over me at once. My eyelids slid shut.
Back in her studio apartment, Park Haeun kept replaying the pitches she had watched with her own eyes.
“Haa… those pitches were ridiculous.”
The moment she thought of Han Doyoon’s ball again, her cheeks and ears flushed hot. Hands clasped over her chest, she slowly lifted her face toward the ceiling, looking for all the world like a high-school girl secretly daydreaming about her crush.
She had only arrived at Wales Park in the fifth inning, so she hadn’t seen that many pitches. But the real haul from the night was something else entirely.
Even after Doyoon’s half-explanation that the lingering effects of Tommy John surgery had miraculously healed, the online communities were still convinced he must be on illegal PEDs.
(GIF of Han Doyoon pitching right before the trade)
(GIF of Han Doyoon pitching today)
This is what happened in just “two months,” lmao.
Tommy John aftereffects can disappear? Yeah, sure, it happens.
But in two months? Absolutely not, lol.
If the aftereffects had really gone away, there would’ve been gradual “signs” of stuff coming back even before the trade.
But there weren’t any, right?
Just the same 140 km/h garbage.
So what does that mean? lmao
Park Haeun saw it differently.
“Illegal PEDs… probably not.”
She couldn’t deny she had harbored some suspicion herself. That was why, after the game, she had waited outside the stadium pretending to be a regular fan. The second Han Doyoon appeared, she knew at a glance.
No exaggerated upper-body bulk typical of steroid users. No grotesquely overdeveloped shoulders or traps. No odd skin tone or puffiness.
“His body looked natural.”
Drug-built physiques always give themselves away—unbalanced, unnecessarily hard, somehow not quite human. Han Doyoon wasn’t like that. His lower half looked a little sturdier than before, but in her eyes that still fell well inside the normal range.
More importantly, she had seen decisive proof that the Tommy John aftereffects had healed. Casual fans might think the delivery looked the same, but to her trained eye the difference was obvious.
She pulled up three clips side by side on her monitor: high-school Doyoon, Wales Doyoon, and Flyers Doyoon. She paused each one at the exact moment the front foot landed.
In the Flyers clip, his scapula was laid back far more aggressively than it had ever been with the Wales. Even compared to his relatively clean high-school form, the difference was stark.
She scrubbed a few frames forward and froze the video again just as early cocking released and the upper body began to fire—right at the point where the elbow hinged. Once more, current Doyoon showed the deepest, freest bend.
“Yeah. This is just… range of motion coming back.”
PEDs? Absolutely not. Drugs only add muscle; they do not magically expand joint mobility. Whatever the reason, one fact was clear: Han Doyoon had recovered from the Tommy John aftereffects.
Certainty settled in. She hit the new-post button at once. She briefly considered making an account, then decided a single throwaway was enough and posted under the anonymous handle Anon.
She had meant to keep it short. The post grew anyway.
– Why Tommy John aftereffects happen
– What problems a pitcher with those aftereffects actually faces
– Why scapular mobility and elbow angle are critical to pitching
– What Doyoon’s current delivery mechanics look like
– Why PEDs cannot explain any of it
Calmly, logically, with examples, evidence, and screenshots, she laid everything out with meticulous care.
The final line read:
Conclusion: Illegal PED use is extremely unlikely. For reasons unknown, recovery from Tommy John aftereffects appears genuine.
Upload complete.
Moments later the replies began stacking up.
2. That range is now better than it ever was.
3. Therefore not PEDs.
A few people were capable of actual conversation. They were a tiny minority.
Most of the replies were pure mockery aimed at her.
“Looks-obsessed…?”
The moment she saw the word, Park Haeun’s face twisted.
Looks-obsessed fangirl.
She was a female fan herself, yet she despised that particular breed more than anyone. The ones who never watched the games, never analyzed anything, just showed up to stare at players’ faces and called themselves baseball fans.
Her hatred had a clear reason. Because of people like them, she had been lumped in more than once and asked, simply for being a woman, whether she was “just another looks fan.” As someone who genuinely loved the game, she didn’t need to explain how insulting that felt.
“Haa… they’re grouping me with them?”
A hollow laugh escaped her.
What she had watched today wasn’t a face. It was four-seam stuff, mechanical change, restored range of motion. She had poured thousands of characters of analysis into the post, and the reply she got was “looks-obsessed bitch.”
“I don’t even care about faces….”
She closed the community tab with that muttered protest.
Ugh. What’s the point of talking to people who refuse to listen?
She immediately opened a baseball stats site instead.
“Haa…….”
The irritation that had been carved into her expression only moments earlier slowly melted the second the pitch data filled the screen. Her eyes went soft and unfocused; a dazed little smile spread across her lips. Cheeks still flushed, she exhaled a warm breath while staring at the numbers, a faint, almost manic light flickering in her gaze.