All-Out War Right After Joining the First Team (1)
Crack!
Daejeon Hawks first-team defensive coach Choi Kinam was personally hitting fungoes, helping the new transfer with his fielding drills.
Oh-ho?
Clean, economical steps left and right. Lightning-quick transfer from glove to bare hand. Stable, strong throws. It was textbook shortstop defense, pure and simple.
Crack!
And this time?
Choi Kinam, renowned as a master of infield fungoes, sent a ball skimming just left of second base.
Thump!
The instant the ball kicked up off the artificial turf, shortstop Lee Hajun snagged it, spun a full circle, and fired to first.
Heh. Well now.
It was the kind of clean, flawless technique he wanted to hold up as a model for every other shortstop on the first team. Even on a ball most fans would have forgiven him for letting go, Hajun had casually scooped it and turned the out.
"Coach?"
"Hm?"
When Choi simply stood there watching, Hajun called out to him. His eyes still held the focused stare of a shortstop waiting on the next swing.
"Ahem. Let's call it here for now."
"Pardon?"
Defensive coach Choi Kinam spoke with a satisfied smile, but Hajun approached with a look of pure confusion.
"I can still keep going."
"No. Burning yourself out before a game isn't good either."
"…"
Before a game?
The phrase felt a little foreign to Hajun. Back with the Lakers he had almost never started, so there had never been any need to take it easy in practice.
"Thank you for your hard work, Coach."
"Yeah, yeah. Next!"
Choi called over another of the team's infielders, Im Jinmuk. He watched Hajun's back as the young man politely bowed and walked off.
Maybe…?
A complete bolt from the blue. Hitting coach Song Daehyeon had already praised Hajun's swing earlier, before the defensive work even started. But to think the defense was this good too.
Maybe this kid, the product of that disastrous trade with the Lakers, would solve one of the team's biggest headaches.
Crack!
"Huh?"
Shortstop Im Jinmuk, giving an enthusiastic effort, missed the ball Choi had just hit. Choi almost barked at him to focus, then held his tongue. Coldly speaking, it had been a tough play.
"…"
I need to dial it back?
He decided he would have to lower the difficulty compared to what he had just put Hajun through. For a fungo master like Choi Kinam, that was no trouble. But having to hold a lower standard for Im Jinmuk—who had no real defensive weakness—than for a brand-new transfer…
What on earth was going on?
Hello, baseball fans. Welcome to the tenth matchup of the 2026 professional season between the Daejeon Hawks and the Gwangju Kings—Gwangju Kings versus Daejeon Hawks.
The early heat that still felt unfamiliar after years of milder summers had reached its peak in early July. The second game of the final first-half series between the Daejeon Hawks and the Gwangju Kings was underway.
"If we lose today it's ten straight. Tomorrow makes eleven. Even if the result is ugly, the veterans will take the heat—so we win today, no matter what!"
Centered around captain and first baseman Kim Dongseong and today's starter Yu Seungjin, the Hawks players steeled themselves.
Gulp.
Manager Park Taesik swallowed dryly. He had been a fierce competitor since his playing days, and he knew. This series was the watershed of the entire season.
The season was not over. Injuries were plentiful, and the front office was finally pouring real energy into landing a new foreign hitter. If they could pull off an upset against the first-place team—against a club they had gone a miserable 0-9 against this season—and close out the first half that way, they could start planning for what came next.
And yet…
We cannot lose.
If they dropped a losing series to the Kings now, or worse, got swept, something irreversible might break. That was the premonition gnawing at Park Taesik.
I'm counting on you, Seungjin.
He had no choice but to place his hopes on the forty-year-old domestic ace.
"Strike three!"
A picture-perfect curve! Kim Jongbeom freezes completely!
How many pitchers in this league can throw a breaking ball into the zone that confidently against a hitter like Kim Jongbeom?
Pop!
"Strike three!"
Swinging strikeout! K! K! K! Choi Euihyun punches out the Hawks' one-two-three hitters in order!
The fastball looks high, but when it comes in on that line it feels like it's right in your face.
Especially when the man throwing it is Choi Euihyun.
Daejeon Hawks starter: Yu Seungjin.
Gwangju Kings starter: Choi Euihyun.
Different styles entirely, yet both were showing peak form from the first inning.
Choi Euihyun was the left-handed fireballer the Kings had carefully developed. An overpowering fastball that touched 157 km/h with an average in the high 140s, plus big, sharp breaking stuff. Control had always been his Achilles' heel, but this season he had finally become one of the league's premier lefties. His contribution was a huge reason the Kings were running away with first place from the first half onward.
There had been a time when expectations were not particularly high. Then Yu Seungjin returned, and free-agent signings like Ji Gyeongjun and Kim Dongseong kept coming, and a fair number of fans started to hope again.
As the team representing the Chungcheong region, the Hawks had a famously large domestic fan base. But last year and this year—both launched alongside the new ballpark—had been so disappointing that the discontented voices among Hawks supporters had grown loud. The irritated criticism of the fans who somehow still filled the home seats no matter how abysmal the results had been going on for a long time already.
"Hmm…"
Hajun watched the game in silence. The seniors were not telling him to pump up the dugout energy. For now he simply cheered for his new orange team and waited for whatever chance might come his way.
Pop!
"Strike!"
"Whoa, that was 155."
Jin Yeongil, sitting beside him, spoke up. Anyone could see that Gwangju Kings starter Choi Euihyun's stuff was genuinely nasty.
"His pure stuff is about the same as mine, or better."
"Yeah, looks that way."
Hajun answered with a half-hearted, soul-less agreement. Yeongil was a pitcher who took enormous pride in his own velocity—while carefully excluding the concept of "command" from the equation. That was a different domain, he believed.
"Strike!"
"Even for Kim Dongseong-sunbae, when the ball comes in on the hands like that… oof."
CRACK!
"Huh?"
"Whoa—?"
Hajun startled and leaned forward a little.
Well-struck ball to left! It's gone! Kim Dongseong's home run puts the first run on the board!
Two strikes, no balls. In the absolute pitcher's count, Choi Euihyun's changeup leaked over the heart of the plate, and the veteran Kim Dongseong punished the fatal mistake without mercy.
Clap! Clap!
Hajun joined the high-five line that followed the captain's homer.
"Forget it. Your stuff is filthy today."
"…Yes."
Gwangju Kings veteran catcher Jeong Chanwoo climbed the mound to encourage Choi Euihyun.
Pop!
Pop!
"Strike three!"
Choi Euihyun had given up the home run, yet he continued his monstrous outing—five strikeouts through two innings. And as if answering him…
CRACK!
Jeong Chanwoo pulls it! But the ball stays in the infield.
"Out!"
Third baseman Park Jinhyeok makes the long throw. Out! Yu Seungjin shuts them down through six perfect innings!
Against the best lineup in the league… this is what Yu Seungjin looks like.
"Hoo… hoo…"
Six innings, eight strikeouts, no walks, no runs. That was Yu Seungjin's fighting spirit against the Gwangju Kings. He had thrown ninety-nine pitches; his day was done.
Thank you, Seungjin.
Manager Park Taesik drank cold water and silently offered gratitude to his ace. If they could just score in the bottom of the sixth…
"Out!"
It did not happen. The opposing pitcher, Choi Euihyun, was every bit as brilliant. Three innings remained. The score stayed 0–1.
Kings starter Choi Euihyun finished with 102 pitches: six innings, twelve strikeouts, one run. The dazzling duel between the two starters would end lighting up the sixth. The game moved into a bullpen battle.
"Hajun, get ready."
"Ah!"
A coach called for him. Manager's orders. With one out in the bottom of the seventh and a runner on first, they were inserting a pinch runner. Lee Hajun, chosen for one-run baseball.
"…"
He was getting into a game on day one, yet a strange bitterness lingered.
Still, I have a job to do.
Hajun fulfilled his duty as a pinch runner. Of course the following hitters failed to come through, and he never reached home. The game rolled into the top of the eighth.
Full count. Standing in the box is Kim Jongbeom, still leading the MVP race this season!
On the Hawks mound was right-hander Han Wonhyeong of the high-leverage corps. The Hawks bullpen ranked among the league's better units.
CRACK!
A sharp fair ball!
But against the Gwangju Kings they were truly fragile. With two outs and the bases loaded in the top of the eighth, Kings third baseman Kim Jongbeom's opposite-field liner punched through the first-base hole.
At third! At third! Safe at third! Kim Jongbeom's bases-clearing triple flips the game! The Kings take a 4–1 lead!
A despairing collapse after already allowing the tying run.
"Told you. Fucking figures."
"Hey, let's go, let's go—we'll miss the bus."
"Huh? The Highlanders just took the lead? If this ends like this the standings flip, right?"
"Dunno. Just leave. Sigh…"
Spectators in orange uniforms could be seen leaving with the rest of the game still ahead. Two more offensive innings remained, yet in two years the Hawks had never come back from this kind of flow against the Kings.
"Everyone! Please give a round of applause to our new face, Lee Hajun, for that beautiful defensive play!"
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
The ball off the bat of Kings cleanup hitter Jang Daeho, who followed Kim Jongbeom, skipped over the pitcher's head toward second—but shortstop Lee Hajun raced in and snared it with a dazzling play that ended the inning. Even in the quiet home stands a few pure gasps of admiration escaped. Of course it was nowhere near enough to erase the shock of the go-ahead triple.
"It's not over yet! Louder cheers for our players!"
After the transfer's sudden highlight-reel defense came the bottom of the eighth. The Daejeon Hawks cheer squad and cheerleaders worked hard to lift the sunken atmosphere.
"We can do it! Let's go!"
"Gyeongjun! Hit one for your return!"
Still battling for the league lead in average home attendance this season, plenty of Hawks fans remained and kept cheering. Even with the team hovering near last place, even after nine straight losses to one club—as long as innings and outs remained, possibility had not vanished.
Bottom of the eighth.
The Gwangju Kings boasted the strongest bullpen in the league. Yet even pitchers who looked unbreakable eventually had days when they allowed runs. Left-hander Hong Seungmin, facing the Hawks' cleanup trio, committed a wild pitch with a runner on first and nobody out.
Crack!
Third baseman Park Jinhyeok's bat snapped. But the dull contact still sent the ball over the shortstop's head. The score became 4–2. Kings road fans who had been certain of victory began to feel July's heat all over again.
Gwangju Kings—Manager Jang Beomjun's next card is Lee Gicheol.
The Kings, still thinking of locking this game down today, brought in right-handed sidearmer Lee Gicheol. Cleanup hitter Kim Dongseong went down swinging on a slider. Outfielder An Junpyo, riding a hot streak and batting fifth, hit one hard—only to have it snared by the right fielder.
Pop!
"Ball!"
Outside! Walk. Ji Gyeongjun lays off that pitch. Two outs, runners on first and second.
Lee Gicheol's control is clearly off today.
Is Manager Jang Beomjun making a pitching change here?
With two outs and runners on first and second in the bottom of the eighth, the Kings played their best card. Right-hander Park Haein. Already twenty-four saves in the first half without a single blown save—the league's premier closer. The guardian of the dynasty the Gwangju Kings were building.
"…"
Hawks manager Park Taesik's throat was dry.
"Skip."
Bench coach Yu Jinho asked for the manager's decision first. Stepping into the seventh spot was the shortstop who had entered earlier as a pinch runner—Lee Hajun.
The most trustworthy pinch hitter I have right now is Jisu.
He had saved Park Jisu for exactly this moment. And yet this feeling…
"Leave him in."
Praise from both the second-team and first-team coaches. Clearly trustworthy. But the manager was a man who valued data. Against Park Haein's stuff, Lee Hajun would most likely never get the bat off his shoulder. Even so, his gut was screaming not to make the change.
"Skip…"
Even the bench coach who had spoken well of Hajun voiced concern.
"I'll take the responsibility."
But Park Taesik was a man who believed there were moments when you had to make the bold, challenging call.