Awakening Quest (2)
*Bzzz!*
Cheon Sojin’s smartphone vibrated across the office desk.
*Bzzz!*
*Bzzz!*
*Bzzz!*
“Team Leader, shouldn’t you take that?”
The relentless buzzing only made her stomach twist tighter.
The manager said he’d handle it properly…!
This was the second call in thirty minutes. Cheon Sojin stared at the name on the screen, hesitated for a beat, then steeled herself.
“……I’ll just take this for a second.”
“Yes, Doyoon? What’s going on?”
“Ah, I just heard from the manager that I’m being sent down to the second team soon. There’s one part of it I can’t accept.”
“……Understood. Where are you right now? I’ll come to you.”
“……What is it you wanted to talk about?”
“……You already know, don’t you?”
“Haa…… Fine. This is about not being able to pitch this season, right?”
I understood why this would stress her out too. But with my current standing I couldn’t exactly demand to see the general manager, and Cheon Sojin was literally the only person I could ask.
“That’s right.”
“I’m Operations. I don’t know the full details either, and even if you push me like this I don’t have the authority to change the manager’s mind.”
“I know. I’m not trying to go against the club’s decision. I just need to confirm something first.”
“……What?”
She already had a pretty good idea what I was about to say. The fact that she still asked meant she really didn’t want to talk about it.
“It feels like the manager is hiding something from me. And…… you are too, Team Leader.”
Cheon Sojin bit her lip and looked away. Watching her struggle that hard made me wonder if I should even be asking, but the more they tried to hide it the more suspicious it became. I couldn’t hold back.
“First, the manager told me the club sees me as a future ace. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is.”
Not even a second of hesitation.
“……Why, though?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know enough baseball to explain that part. That’s the scouting team and coaching staff’s assessment.”
“But they really do think that.”
“Yes. I was in the acquisition meetings and I’ve read the reports. The club sees you that way. Of course, that doesn’t mean you’re guaranteed the number-one starter spot. But you’re definitely one of the candidates.”
It wasn’t the most satisfying answer, but it wasn’t the main issue, so I let it go. If the club saw me that way, fine. If they put a nobody like me in the rotation and it blew up, that was their loss.
“Next—if I just need time to adjust, they could put me on the mound the moment the adjustment’s done. Why is it absolutely no appearances this entire season? Does it have something to do with that document you were looking at yesterday?”
The moment I mentioned the document, Cheon Sojin’s face went rigid.
Did I cross a line?
I hadn’t been able to hold back the curiosity and frustration, but that expression of hers sent a wave of unease through me.
“I specifically asked the manager not to say anything. I guess he kept quiet after all. You’re right. That document from yesterday is about you, Doyoon. And it’s the most important reason.”
She seemed to reach some kind of decision. She took one deep breath.
“Han Doyoon has the yips.”
……The yips?
“Our scouts investigated thoroughly. You have the yips. At a specific point in your release, your muscles lock up excessively, and every time that motion appears you throw a wild pitch without fail. You know as well as I do that the yips are usually psychological, so people hate even mentioning them. That’s probably why the manager didn’t bring it up.”
……They thought the wild pitches caused by Blockhead Thrower were the yips.
Everything clicked into place. Why the manager hadn’t told me, why Cheon Sojin had been so reluctant to speak, and—
“So the reason he said I can’t pitch for half a year……”
Why they didn’t want me on the mound at all.
“Yes, exactly. The club decided that more appearances would only deepen the trauma. Fortunately…… your case isn’t that severe. There are pitchers who can’t even throw near the catcher. You’re not that far gone.”
I can’t exactly tell them it’s because of the Status Window……
What the hell was I supposed to do with this?
Honestly, if I were them and a pitcher had the yips, I wouldn’t put him out there either. Forget the pitcher’s future—if he couldn’t even throw a normal pitch, what was the point?
“But…… I know my own body, and it is absolutely, absolutely not the yips. I’m working on fixing it.”
“Then what is it?”
“That’s…… you probably wouldn’t believe me even if I told you……”
Her expression twisted sharply at that.
“Doyoon, you have to tell us so the club can actually plan a response.”
“Haa……”
I still couldn’t get the words out and just stood there fidgeting. Cheon Sojin finally snapped, her voice sharp with frustration.
“Forget it. Let’s end this conversation here. As planned, Han Doyoon will be moved to the developmental squad.”
I went back to the dorm and stared out the window just as the first-team bus was about to leave for the game.
“……Lucky bastards.”
Then—
*Knock knock.*
Someone was at the door.
“Doyoon, you in there?”
A familiar voice.
“Coach??”
I opened the door, and sure enough, it was a familiar face.
“Been doing okay?”
My high school mentor, Coach Kim Taehwan.
“You’re coaching here?”
“Not a full coach. I’m here to look after you. What do they call it these days…… an instructor?”
Without Coach Kim Taehwan I wouldn’t be here at all. That wasn’t empty talk—he was the one who grabbed me when I was ready to quit baseball and made me keep going.
“Come on. The club already filled me in on your issues, so let’s get started.”
I followed Coach Kim Taehwan out to the bullpen. The second we got there he hit me with a question.
“Hey, you little punk—why the hell did you learn a changeup?”
“Uh…… when I first got to the Wales, everyone said modern pitchers all throw a fastball, slider, and changeup as the basics.”
The first thing I’d done after joining the Wales was learn a changeup. My control was solid and I was consistently sitting 145 km/h back then, so they figured if I just added a changeup for lefties I’d be complete.
It was tough, but I had good feel for the ball. I picked it up in a month and threw it constantly after that.
“Tsk tsk…… There was a reason I never taught you a changeup.”
“Yeah, the manager here said the same thing the moment I arrived. Told me to ditch the changeup first.”
“Your wrist doesn’t work with a changeup. You can’t turn it, so you start twisting your arm, then your elbow, and when that doesn’t work you twist your shoulder too. Vicious cycle.”
Exactly what the manager had said earlier.
“Then what am I supposed to throw against lefties?”
That left me with a question. For most pitchers, nothing beats a changeup against opposite-handed hitters. A few guys throw a back-foot slider, but that’s a special trick only pitchers with elite sliders can pull off. Mine wasn’t even close.
“If the changeup’s out, there’s something better.”
At the same time, he put a ball in my hand.
“Here. Four-seam grip.”
“Got it.”
Then he yanked hard on the ball. It slipped right out of my fingers and rolled across the dirt.
“Nope. Grip it tighter.”
*Squeeze.*
I clamped down and held it out. He grabbed it and pulled hard again, but this time the ball didn’t budge.
“Okay. From here…… just twist it a tiny bit like this. Throw it exactly like that.”
“Right now?”
“Yeah, right now.”
“There’s no catcher.”
“What, seeing me after so long made you forget I’m a coach? Hurry up!”
I wound up and threw. Looking at his face, he seemed satisfied.
“Doesn’t feel weird or anything?”
“No, it’s fine. But I’m putting a lot of pressure on my index finger.”
“Yeah, that’s normal. That’s a cutter.”
A cutter.
A fastball variant that rides a four-seam path before dipping just a hair and cutting sharply—hence the name. It was popular for inducing ground balls against opposite-handed hitters, and I’d wanted to learn it before, but the Wales coaches said they didn’t know how to teach it, so I’d given up.
“Then why didn’t you teach me this in high school instead of now?”
“Throw a slider with that same grip.”
*Whoosh.*
I’d already gotten chewed out once, so this time I threw without a word of complaint.
Meanwhile the coach pulled out a tablet and showed me the screen.
“Alright…… look at pitch one and pitch two. See any difference in the movement?”
“No, none.”
Just like he said, my cutter and slider looked almost identical.
“That’s why I didn’t teach it back then. If you throw it wrong it ends up looking just like a slider.”
“What does that have to do with not teaching it?”
“You have to watch the movement and separate the two pitches. But high school doesn’t have equipment like this. So I just made sure you only threw a clean slider.”
I was still fiddling with the tablet when he snatched it out of my hands.
“Stop messing around and throw. Getting the feel for this takes longer than you think. Push with the tip of your index finger.”
“Again!”
“No—if your index finger slips it’s useless. Again!”
After throwing about fifty pitches I headed back to the dorm.
And then—
*Ding.*
You have been transferred to the development team.
Starting the Awakening Quest.
The Status Window, quiet for so long, suddenly flashed an alert.
Awakening Quest — Blockhead Thrower
You are a Blockhead Thrower who has not been recognized as a pitcher.
We begin the journey to forge you into a true pitcher.
📍 First Journey: Successfully throw 100 borderline pitches. (0/100)
📍 Second Journey: ???
📍 Third Journey: ???