Breaking 160 km/h (Part 2)
Continuing from the black screen, Yaman spilled the story about how he, O the commentator, and the manager had gone to that PC bang to film a previous video, where they first met me and were totally shocked—everyone there was blown away.
"But when did you start throwing the ball?"
"Oh, just... from way back. I'd throw it around by myself when I got bored."
"Do people around you know?"
"Uh... probably not?"
"Why not?"
From my perspective, it was normal that no one knew up until now, but to an outsider who had no clue, it was baffling why someone with such an insane hidden talent hadn't shown it off sooner.
"Eh, I just wanted to keep it as a hobby. I've never really been the type to enjoy being in the spotlight anyway. Things are a bit different now, though..."
"Ah, so you were kinda introverted back then?"
"Yeah, something like that."
Aside from admitting I'd thrown the ball around occasionally, it wasn't far from the truth. So my smooth lies came out naturally, and it didn't seem suspicious to anyone watching.
We chatted back and forth for a few minutes as we drove, eventually arriving at our destination: Pangpang Baseball Practice.
"Hello!"
"Hyun-su, come on in. And you too, miss."
"Yes, boss! Subscribers, I rented out this whole place for the day thanks to my embargo deal. Please show some love to Pangpang Baseball Practice. Thank you, boss."
"No worries. You've already promoted us, and I really wanted to see this young lady pitch anyway."
After greeting the friendly owner, the three of us gathered at the pitching zone. Yaman clapped his palms together with a loud smack! and said,
"Alright! Time to show everyone why we're here, right? Gyeong-guk-ssi, you ready?"
"Yep."
"Then we'll watch from over there—give it a go. Wanna warm up first?"
With that, I started stretching slowly. After loosening up my whole body, I stared down the target and took my stance. I took a deep breath, gripped the ball...
"Guys, you're never gonna believe this. I saw it myself and still can't wrap my head around it."
Yaman whispered excitedly from beside the camera as I got set. Then, slowly winding up, I unleashed a clean overhand throw without any wasted motion.
The watching Yaman let out a gasp of admiration. It was light compared to pros, but for an average woman, the ball flew with real weight. The speed gun in the middle flashed 108 in red.
The form and velocity blew away every 'normal' female guest who'd ever appeared on Yaman's channel—it was undeniably impressive. But it wasn't quite the thumbnail-level hype.
Korea had female players who could hit 130, so it was special, sure, but not that special like the thumbnail claimed. Even after a few more throws, speeds hovered around 110 or lower.
Reactions poured in across the streaming communities.
Most reactions were "not as hyped as aggro" vs. "still top-tier," but some folks poked the fire to test waters. Still, plenty saw it positively—not just power, but solid control too.
"Gyeong-guk-ssi, you've warmed up—let's go full throttle?"
"Sure? Oh, one sec."
Yaman's words implied those ~10 serious-looking throws were just warmups. I shrugged and pulled out my phone to check a text or something, then reset. Yaman even geared up in catcher's equipment.
"I've wanted to catch one since that day. Finally!"
He'd started baseball young, failed pro but played amateur—Yaman crouched excitedly, smacking his mitt.
"Gimme a few easy ones to adjust."
"Got it."
I nodded, took stance. Windup similar, but the release was way different: scraping the ground, an underhand throw. It evoked someone specific, sucked clean into Yaman's glove.
-Thwack!
The heavy mitt sound and spin made Yaman burst laughing.
"Whoa, heavy! Jin-hyeong! How fast?"
"129!"
"129? No way that's right?"
"It's 129. Feels like my senses are off—been ages since I caught."
"Maybe?"
Felt mid-130s to me, but okay, 129 it was. After catching a few to get the feel, Yaman smacked his mitt again.
"Full power now?"
"Yep."
Implying even those were practice, Yaman urged the real deal. I nodded, exhaled deep.
"-Hoo."
Leg rose slow. Eyes flicked to my sleek legging-clad legs, then snapped forward—leg thrust, arm whipped like scraping earth, ball released.
And the result...
-CRACK!
"Whoaaa!"
"Ooooh!"
Yaman jolted at the ominous sound and ball slamming his mitt. Owner and manager naturally gasped.
"Jin-hyeong! Speed?"
"152!"
"152? Gun broken?"
Palm stinging from the power, but lower than expected—hard to believe. Viewers watching live couldn't either, for different reasons.
Impossible fact hit even skeptics and early dropouts—threads exploded on baseball boards, streaming communities swarmed.
Sports communities anywhere went nuts mid-stream—but the vid wasn't over. Couldn't hit near last time's 157? Yaman trusted his gut, told manager,
"Jin-hyeong! Grab the speed gun from the car."
"Okay."
Manager rushed the car gun for measurement.
"Okay! One more? Gyeong-guk-ssi, arm good?"
"Yeah! Fine."
Even pros tire after many—~30 throws in, Yaman worried. I spun my arm, no issue. (No full-power throws usually means soreness shock later, but fine now.)
"Then just three more to wrap? Feels like overworking you. Won't even push this hard for finale. Sorry!"
"No prob!"
Yaman felt bad overworking a non-player/non-athlete, requested final three. I loved baseball, knew his concern—smiled, set.
And those three records...
155, 158, 160.
That day, comprehensive baseball boards, Click viewer boards, and dude-heavy communities flooded with Gyeong-guk recs.