Towards Fifth Place (5)
"Ahhhhhhhh!"
With one runner on base and two outs.
If the batter standing in the box had been allowed a home run, everything would have reset to zero: the starting pitcher who had gritted his way through despite shaky command, the bullpen arms who had taken the mound one after another and flaunted their full might, and the leadoff hitter who had put on a true one-man show at the plate—all of it would have been for nothing.
But no such thing happened.
The bullpen's unshakable force right through the final out put the period on the game.
"Ooooh, victory! Strongest! Dae! Jeon!"
As if the afterglow of victory still clung to them, the away fans at Jamsil Baseball Stadium raised their voices even louder than usual.
"I just tried to hit the pitches that came into the zone, and I guess the results turned out well," Lee Hajun said during the interview.
In his final at-bat he had produced a precious RBI that stretched the lead. Yet he could not deny that he had been slightly overpowered by Hong Jongyeon's stuff. For now he would credit the heavens and simply think about what to improve.
"Thank you for coming out in such numbers today. Tomorrow and the day after, we'll make sure to win so we can climb even higher in the standings."
"Waaaaaaaaah!"
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap clap!
"Yes, Lee Hajun—a player truly loved by so many fans—that concludes the interview. Congratulations on today's victory."
"Thank you."
Right to the end, Hajun never lost his smile as he offered his greetings. In the sweltering heat, the fans who had watched a game as fierce as its importance demanded spared no applause for today's MVP, whose words had landed perfectly.
Crack—!
"Nice!"
It caught the sweet spot perfectly. As a celebration he flung the bat far away. If he—still treated essentially as a first-year pro—had done something like that in a real game, the seniors would have told him to show some restraint.
"Home run!"
But even shouting his own home-run call caused no problem. This magnificent ballpark was a world that belonged to him alone.
Pitch Count 20/20
-29,280 Points-
The home run at the end had earned him eighty points. The number looked high, yet it clearly meant something. The bat would be waiting in its usual place when he returned anyway, so he left the stadium without any thought of retrieving it.
Contact / Defense [SILVER]
Points required for next tier: 29,280 / 50,000
"Still a long way to go."
The more slightly disappointing moments piled up in actual games, the more he couldn't help wanting a shortcut.
Training Mode has ended.
[Exit]
"·····"
He was about to press the button when the game from before he fell asleep suddenly came to mind. He had faced two of the league's absolute top pitchers, and the results had been excellent. He had recorded hits against both, and in a critically important game he had been involved in every single run. But as long as he was human—and as long as he knew the secret no one else did—it was inevitable that his greed would keep growing.
"·····"
How could he improve even further? As Hajun thought, he quickly pressed the button. In this world he had already finished his quota, so there was no point lingering.
"Hmm·····"
Daejeon Hawks manager Park Taesik was frowning as he looked over the reports he had received. Of all the baseball-related stress he had endured in his life, the amount he had accumulated since becoming manager seemed the greatest.
It's still okay for now.
Park Taesik was reviewing the innings, pitch counts, and rest intervals of the team's bullpen pitchers. When starting resource Lee Jaein had gotten injured and the two foreign players had put on truly disastrous performances, the team had sunk nearly to last place—yet he had never overworked the bullpen. Even though they possessed a top-tier relief corps in the league and could have forced a few more wins by pushing them, he had refused. It wasn't because he was soft-hearted or kind; he simply believed that continued overuse would create problems late in the season. If the two foreigners failed to perform up to expectations, there had been no other answer. The fruits of that patient endurance had been quite sweet. In the end, the newly acquired Estrada and Jays were delivering perfect performances, and the bullpen he had carefully preserved was showing an impregnable form in the second half.
It would have been impossible otherwise.
One particular hitter floated into Park Taesik's mind. The sudden lucky charm who had joined them. No—even that expression felt too light for a player who had become the absolute core of the team. He had so simply turned a weakness into a strength. A leadoff hitter with a league-top on-base percentage. A contact hitter who could drive in runs with a high average in clutch situations. A defender who could protect the shortstop position not just stably, but like an iron wall.
"Just what the hell are you?"
Park Taesik muttered to himself in disbelief. He still couldn't believe it. A hitter who had clearly possessed subpar, disqualifying-level batting ability at the professional level. Yet suddenly, even when facing the full-power pitches of the league's absolute best pitchers, he gave the impression of being the most reliable man on the team. From what he had heard, there had been no dramatic change in his swing form, whether in the second team or the first. According to the second-team hitting coach, the kid had simply been hitting so well from the moment he arrived that it was shocking.
I really feel like I've been possessed by a ghost.
For Park Taesik, who preferred everything to move according to the standards he set, Hajun had been a thoroughly enjoyable shock.
Knock knock.
Slide.
Hawks head coach Yu Jinho entered.
"Have you been sitting there this whole time?"
"Yeah."
A reminder to take care of his health. He already knew, and he knew it was useless. Once you became a baseball manager, a little back trouble was getting off cheap.
"The team?"
"They're in the middle of training."
"I should head out and take a look soon."
Ever since the upward trend began, the Hawks players had been training harder than before—
"Ah, right. Did that kid show up first again this time?"
"Of course."
Lee Hajun's influence was not small. The leadoff hitter who led the lineup was effective not only in games.
"What's that guy doing?"
Hawks captain Kim Dongseong pointed a finger at foreign hitter Jays.
"Looks like he's practicing that challenge that's popular these days."
"·····Fine, leave him be."
Kim Dongseong didn't particularly scold him. After all, the guy was already doing more than his role required. He just hoped the man wouldn't get injured while doing excessive celebrations or posing for the cameras.
"I don't know how he can be so calm at the plate while acting like that."
"Baseball really is all about talent, damn."
The teammates each tossed in a comment. His nature was that lighthearted, yet his patience in the batter's box was on the level of a Taoist sage. Having a number-two hitter who posted an on-base percentage over .400 while also packing power was something to be grateful for—but sometimes jealousy was inevitable.
"Compared to him, Hajun is... hmm·····"
Thinking that Lee Hajun was mysterious wasn't limited to manager Park Taesik alone. Anyone who made a living in baseball and wasn't completely uninterested in him couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment.
"And Hajun?"
"He went to the scouting room earlier."
"Of course."
Separate from the profundity of that incredible skill, once he clocked in at the ballpark until game time, Lee Hajun was an easy man to understand if you just looked at him. He consistently arrived first and completed a fixed routine. Sometimes people got a little sloppy, but he never showed even a hint of that—he was a teammate who moved with the precision of something measured by a ruler.
"He's probably the most unique guy in the whole country, right?"
"Yeah. Honestly, at first I thought he was amazing and wondered if I could become like that if I worked hard enough····· but he plays so well that even that thought doesn't come up anymore."
"Was he originally a huge genius who was just pretending to suck? Otherwise it doesn't make sense."
"I don't know. I'm just jealous."
"He must've raked in a lot of bonuses this time too, right?"
Number one in Daejeon Hawks uniform sales for August. A glory that symbolized the fans' love, and at the same time a pretty juicy incentive.
"Stop goofing off."
"Ah, yes! Sorry!"
At the captain's words, the players immediately scattered.
"Waaaaaaaaah!"
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
"·····"
Time it to the fastball.
Hajun made a final check of his mindset as he prepared to face the opposing starter he had already analyzed countless times in real life.
This is all I can do right now.
In reality, unlike the dream, there wasn't much he could do to improve himself as much as his greed wanted. For one thing, it was the middle of the season. Making big changes was difficult. But he couldn't just sit still, so the only method was to give his best with the time he had. Practice to maintain peak condition. And analyze the opposing pitcher.
Seoul Grizzlies foreign pitcher Raul. A fast fastball plus slider, splitter, two-seam fastball. Moving fastballs and pitches that could attack up, down, left, and right. With a half-hearted mindset, he would get completely shut down.
Alright.
The best version of Lee Hajun he could be right now finished his preparation with his signature motion of pointing the bat at the pitcher.
Yu Seungjin, who had always been especially tough on the Grizzlies. Raul, a reliable foreign pitcher who wasn't particularly dominant against the Hawks. In a game that looked likely to turn into a pitchers' duel, the Grizzlies had to neutralize this unpredictably dangerous leadoff man.
"Batting first, Lee Hajun! Hit—Lee Hajun!"
Meanwhile the home fans were hoping he would go wild again today.
Fastball.
Hajun had already organized everything in his head before stepping out.
Whoosh—!
"Ball!"
Whoosh—!
"Ball!"
"·····"
Hajun still hadn't swung the bat. And then the third pitch that followed.
Crack—!
Just as I thought.
A fastball coming in a little high on the outer half. The moment the pitch he had been waiting for entered the zone, Hajun didn't miss it.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The hitter they had been waiting for had delivered a hit right from the first inning. They simply slammed their cheering sticks in time with his sprint.
"·····"
A chance for the first run. Believing in his baserunning ability as much as his hitting, Hajun once again prepared to give the home fans a headache.