Complete Defeat
“Hoo…”
I caught my breath after striking out the number-two hitter, Lawrence. I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and tugged my cap back down.
…Is it because we’re in the seventh?
◈ Through the end of the 6th inning, stamina-reduction penalties are reduced by 30%.
◈ Through the end of the 6th inning, opposing batters’ plate discipline is reduced by 5.
Once the effects of Quality Start wore off and the hitters’ plate discipline returned to normal, I could feel it — the bats were no longer chasing the pitches that just barely missed.
Even against Lawrence, I’d gotten the strikeout, but it had been a long battle that stretched all the way to eleven pitches. My pitch count had already climbed past a hundred.
Next up was the number-three hitter — second baseman Moon Sanghyeon.
Moon Sanghyeon was one of the young hitters carrying the Titans. He didn’t have any single overwhelming tool, but his contact, power, plate discipline, and baserunning were all above average. He handled fastballs and off-speed pitches equally well, and there was almost no pitch location you could call a true weakness.
On top of that, unlike most switch-hitters who showed a big split between sides of the plate, Moon Sanghyeon’s left-right gap was practically nonexistent. He didn’t care whether the pitcher was left-handed or right-handed.
If a hitter had one standout strength and one glaring hole, you could dig into that hole and never let go. But this kind of no-weakness type was surprisingly tough to face.
— Four-seam.
Kim Gyeongmo must have been wary of Moon Sanghyeon too, because he called for a low four-seam fastball on the outer half for the first pitch. Feel him out first.
I went into my windup. And in that instant—
— Swish!
Moon Sanghyeon suddenly dropped into a bunt stance.
…Ugh!
“Ball!”
[152 km/h]
The pitch just barely missed the strike zone, and Moon Sanghyeon yanked his bat back in a flash. My balance had wavered for a split second, the ball drifted a little wide, and the velocity came out a touch lower than usual.
— “Ah, Moon Sanghyeon. Sharp as ever.”
— “Even a bunt fake like that can rattle a pitcher. He’s a quick thinker in the box.”
And the second pitch.
— Four-seam.
Classic Kim Gyeongmo sequencing. If the hitter didn’t offer at the first pitch, throw the same pitch to the same location again.
Hmm… should I turn on Full Effort?
I hesitated for a moment. Activating it now would burn through my stamina faster — but in exchange, I could put real force behind the ball.
Yeah. Turn it on.
I hadn’t used it once across the last 1.2 innings, so the residual heat in my arm had already faded completely. And Moon Sanghyeon shaking my rhythm with that bunt fake kept needling at me. All the more reason I wanted to pin this hitter down and crush him.
Activate Full Effort.
Full Effort activated.
Stamina consumption increased by 2×.
Heat surged from my fingertips up through my elbow. I drew a long breath and went into my windup.
“Hup!”
— Whoooosh!
Maybe I’d muscled it too hard. The ball ran in toward the body — a reverse pitch from what I’d intended.
— Tick.
Moon Sanghyeon’s bat just barely nicked the ball and changed its trajectory. Before Kim Gyeongmo could even react, the ball trickled away behind him.
And then—
— Ding!
└ Stuff −5
└ Movement −5
└ Control −5
└ Max Velocity −2 km/h
└ Errant Pitch Chance +10%
…No wonder I was getting winded.
The Status Window was telling me my stamina was nearing its limit.
— Crack!
— Crack!
— Tick!
“Hoo… hoo… hoo…”
— “Ah, Han Doyoon is really laboring out there.”
— “Yes, you can clearly see the fatigue. His velocity was clearing the mid-150s through the fifth, but it’s dropped into the low 150s now.”
Damn it.
After the eleven-pitch battle with Lawrence, the duel with Moon Sanghyeon had somehow reached eight pitches as well. I’d started with a favorable 1-2 count, but it had stretched all the way to a full count.
A flicker of irritation rose as the at-bat dragged on again. It wasn’t just my mind wearing down — my breathing was getting rougher, edging toward its limit.
Hoo… Settle down. Settle down.
Moon Sanghyeon kept working to throw me off. Fake bunt-and-slash, calling time, deliberately fouling off pitches that were already out of the zone — he used every trick he had to get under my skin.
…To hell with it.
Full Effort activated.
Stamina consumption increased by 2×.
I flipped Full Effort on one more time. At this rate, the at-bat was going to drag on forever. And in my current condition, the odds of coming back out for the eighth were basically zero.
If that’s the case, better to settle it on the ninth pitch.
Max out my stuff, get through Moon Sanghyeon, and get out of there — that was the best play left.
— Slider.
As I finished my prep, Kim Gyeongmo crowded in tight to the plate and set his mitt down by Moon Sanghyeon’s feet, so low it nearly scraped the dirt.
A back-foot slider.
If it dropped cleanly, I could get a swing and a miss. I drew a deep breath and threw it with everything I had.
But—
An errant pitch has occurred!
Oh, come on…!
The alert I’d thought I’d escaped flashed in front of my eyes again. The warning the Status Window had thrown up earlier came flooding back.
└ Stuff −5
└ Movement −5
└ Control −5
└ Max Velocity −2 km/h
└ Errant Pitch Chance +10%
Errant Pitch Chance +10%.
The slider that should have dropped toward Moon Sanghyeon’s feet floated right down the heart of the strike zone.
And Moon Sanghyeon—
— CRACK!
—didn’t miss it.
…Ah.
I tracked the ball with my eyes on the off chance, but of course.
— “Right-field wall — it’s gone! Moon Sanghyeon’s solo home run!”
The ball disappeared beyond the fence.
— Waaaaaah!
— Moon Sanghyeon! Moon Sanghyeon! Moon Sanghyeon!
The Titans crowd roared. Looking toward the dugout, I saw the manager already walking out toward the mound.
“…Tch.”
I clicked my tongue against the thick wave of regret. That last pitch to Moon Sanghyeon kept looping through my head.
— “That’ll be all for Han Doyoon today.”
— “Yes, that home run is a shame, but overall his outing was strong. Six and two-thirds innings with a whopping twelve strikeouts. His command was also much more stable than his last start.”
The manager stopped in front of me.
“Better content than last time out. Good work.”
I handed him the ball and walked off the mound.
“Gaaaah…”
The moment I got back to the dugout, I headed straight for the training room.
Honestly, thanks to Diamond Body, I didn’t need treatment.
◈ Shoulder muscle damage is being restored.
◈ Rotator cuff fatigue is being restored.
◈ Medial elbow ligament pressure is stabilizing.
◈ Forearm muscle fatigue is being restored.
My body was already recovering in real time. But if I just skipped treatment, everyone would look at me funny — that much was obvious.
I got a quick round of physical therapy and icing, then lay down in the lounge and watched the game on TV.
Bottom of the seventh, and the score was still 2–1, same as when I’d come out. Kang Daegeun stepped into the box.
“Whoa, that kid’s three-for-three today?”
I’d had a feeling he was hitting every time he went up there. His bat really had been hot lately.
Among the four of us who’d been called up — Kang Daegeun, Park Taejeong, Kim Gyeongmo, and me, Han Doyoon — the one riding highest after me was Kang Daegeun.
Unlike Park Taejeong, who’d mostly come in as a defensive sub or pinch runner and was starting for the first time today, and Kim Gyeongmo, who was basically playing as my personal catcher, Kang Daegeun had planted himself firmly in the vacant shortstop job and been running as a regular ever since.
Across nine games: a .389 average, one home run, three steals. An OPS of .978. He was putting on a ridiculous show.
“Daily MVP’s gonna be tough today…”
My line: 6.2 innings, one hit, no walks, one run. On pure content, I had a real shot at MVP — but when Daegeun was swinging the bat like a man possessed, the story changed. On top of that, I’d given up that solo shot to Moon Sanghyeon at the end, and Daegeun still had two at-bats left.
Ha… seriously. If I’d just not given up that home run.
The irritation had settled after some time off the mound, but the regret was still there.
Looking back, getting sucked into Moon Sanghyeon’s mind games had been the biggest reason I lost. I’d gotten worked up over that first-pitch bunt fake, and even after grabbing a favorable 1-2 count, I’d stubbornly insisted on going right at him.
Sure, the “errant pitch” had been an unexpected variable — but before that, I’d had plenty of chances to draw a swing and miss with a chase pitch. The one who’d kept giving him fouls to work with was me.
A complete defeat, pure and simple.
Just then, on the screen, Daegeun settled into his stance.
Without thinking, I sat up a little and leaned closer to the TV.
If he hits one more here, today really is Daegeun’s day.
The moment the pitcher released the ball, Daegeun’s hips and waist turned through clean and free.
— CRACK!
The crack of the bat seemed to rattle the lounge walls. The ball kept climbing out toward right-center.
— “Right-center! It’s huge! This ball — it’s gone! Kang Daegeun’s solo home run, and the Flyers stretch the lead to two!”
“Man… that kid’s insane.”
I laughed, half in disbelief.
— “Heh heh, you know, the Flyers drew a lot of attention in the trade market this summer.”
— “That’s right. The trade where they sent away starting shortstop Kang Seonyeop and brought in young starting pitching in Han Doyoon.”
— “Looking at it so far, the club’s judgment is holding up pretty well. Han Doyoon just threw six and two-thirds with one run allowed, and Kang Daegeun is filling Kang Seonyeop’s shoes without missing a beat.”
Yeah. Today’s all yours. Take it.