The Player to Beware
I clenched my fist tight, a victorious grin spreading across my face. The long-awaited chance to start on the mound had finally arrived.
"...Tch. I've already picked up three wins, so I'll let this one slide."
"Sure, sure. Matching luck carrying you straight into an empty house."
"........Can't exactly deny that."
Kim Sihu had won every one of his games by mercy rule so far, so he didn't have much ground to stand on when I poked at him. He simply let it go.
"Munhwi High is a consistent powerhouse that reaches the round of sixteen or better in national tournaments every year. Their bullpen is their real strength, so focus on suppressing their starting pitcher early and then protecting the lead. This team operates on a completely different level from the schools we've faced so far. Keep your mindset sharp and treat this game with the respect it deserves!"
"Yes, sir!"
The briefing ended quickly, and we moved straight into a light evening practice session.
"Hyung, can you catch for me?"
"Hm? Sure, why not."
Yang Uijin had just finished his hitting drills and was watching Jeong Taehun's pitching practice. Perfect timing.
.....Should I try it?
Unlocking Baseball God (H) by playing every position had worked so far. If I showed every possible pitching variation too, maybe that would count. It was a simple enough thought.
From the left side: overhand, sidearm, underhand. From the right: the same—overhand, sidearm, underhand.
I tried three-quarters too, but... my left arm still feels a little forced.
I wasn't some natural ambidextrous genius. I could switch comfortably enough at the plate or when facing a pitcher, but throwing felt most natural with my right arm.
And even after trying every delivery I mentioned, no quest popped up.
It looked like there simply wasn't a pitching-related quest. Baseball God (H) already included the pitcher position, so maybe I'd been asking for too much.
"Whoa... Never thought I'd see a monster like that in person."
Well, getting genuine praise out of Yang Uijin's mouth had to be a good sign. Even Manager Kim stood there with his mouth hanging open at the crazy thing I'd just done. A thin trail of drool—or maybe it was just water—dripped from the corner of his lips.
All I did was change the arm slot. It's not that impressive... Saying that would be a lie, though. The three-quarter delivery was the most effective in terms of velocity and movement, but now I had real reasons to keep practicing the others.
"You crazy bastard. I should've known when I saw that sidearm."
"If you can throw lefty too, that would be actual hell for hitters, wouldn't it...?"
Seeing them react like this was pretty satisfying. I wondered how the opposing team would feel. This secret weapon would make its debut against Munhwi High.
...
"We're meeting at Munhwi High tomorrow. The seventh game against Juhak High will be at Haneul, so keep that in mind."
"Got it. See you tomorrow."
I said goodbye to Yang Uijin and headed home at a leisurely pace.
Munhwi High, huh...
It was the school Park Minhu, Daeji High's starting second baseman, used to attend. A place where lack of talent and some absurd internal corruption had gotten him deliberately injured and kicked out like unwanted baggage.
I didn't expect us to face them first.
Munhwi's starting pitching was admittedly a little weak, but their bullpen was legendary. They were the team that embodied "bee-swarm baseball"—the style that had defined the glory days of the now-defunct Wyverns.
Simple principle: grind out results by burning through the bullpen.
Unlike starters, relievers could appear anytime, anywhere. Because of that, Munhwi's players were terrifyingly strong in high school... but most of them ended up with destroyed shoulders and bodies by the time they reached the pros, thanks to the abuse they endured.
Lee Taehyun really is a monster.
The guy carried his weak team through the Weekend League, Blue Dragon Flag, international tournaments, more Weekend League, Phoenix Flag, and Presidential Cup without any significant injuries. It was honestly ridiculous. Most normal high schoolers had fragile bodies that weren't built for the kind of brutal workload that sometimes exceeded what pros dealt with.
Yeah, Lee Taehyun is definitely insane.
To crack Munhwi, the key would be their catcher, right?
The decisive factor that got Park Minhu kicked out of Munhwi. I couldn't remember the exact details, but I recalled a scene where, during a red-and-white scrimmage, the catcher deliberately refused to clear the plate and nearly shattered Park Minhu's leg on a slide. A low-tier version of Park Donghwan—same terrible personality, just as easy to provoke in a mental battle.
Does high school baseball not have a home-plate collision rule yet?
It was still wild to me that these kids treated the plate like a bullfighting arena, willingly taking violent collisions just to block it. Everyone was desperate, I supposed.
.....Maybe I should stop by Daeji High and do a little scouting.
They were probably at the batting center where Haneul's second team practiced around this time.
This stop is Yongmasan Stadium. Yongmasan Stadium. The next stop is...
"Wait! I'm getting off here!"
-Beep!
I quickly tapped my card and headed toward the batting center to watch how Daeji High's second team trained. Since Park Minhu used to play for Munhwi, any useful intel could be valuable.
...
-Crack!
-Craaaack!
"Oh, there's quite a crowd."
Haneul High's second team in their uniforms, and Daeji High's players wearing brown-and-black jerseys that perfectly captured the image of a tiger, the school's mascot.
"Lee Taehyun, keep that swing compact!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Lee Jeongho, your bat's too slow!"
"Yesss, sir!"
Manager Ryu Eunseong was directing the hitters during batting practice.
So that's possible.
He had the fielders doing fungos while simultaneously managing the Daeji batters hitting off a pitching machine. As expected from the legendary manager who once turned Daeji High into the undisputed king of national tournaments.
"Park Minhu! Move half a beat faster!"
"Huu... Yesss, sir!"
Wow, he's really putting a guy with a past leg injury through the wringer like that.
Maybe the injury had healed a lot by now? Still, the fact that he could push a former injured player this hard proved it—Ryu Eunseong really was a baseball god.
Come to think of it... he's the national team manager too.
The U-18 WBC was the first international tournament where Lee Taehyun got called up to the national team. With the WBC, Asian Games, Premier12, and Baseball World Cup all rotating every four years on different schedules, summer break basically meant international tournament season.
The Asian Games mostly picked young players and pros who hadn't earned military exemption, so there was a slim chance even a high schooler like me could get selected. But for the bigger events like the WBC, World Cup, or Premier12, they had separate youth divisions (U-16, U-18, U-20, U-23). Those were the more realistic targets.
Anyway, the protagonist Lee Taehyun was set to have an insane career: U-18 WBC as a freshman, U-18 World Cup as a sophomore, and youngest-ever selection for the Asian Games as a senior. If I could get picked for all of them too, I could unlock Baseball God (H) even faster.
Since we're both still in high school, it'll probably be U-18...
I'd hoped to gain some experience playing alongside future stars like Kim Do-young or Moon Dong-ju, who were already tearing it up in the pro second team, but that might be pushing it.
Oh right, Manager Kim is coaching the U-20 team.
Our Manager Kim Taehwan was in charge of the U-20 national team, so we wouldn't end up on the same squad as Lee Taehyun, but...
Whatever. The important one is the guy right in front of me.
If I got selected for this U-18 team, I'd be sharing a dugout with Manager Ryu Eunseong.
"Oh, Seojun."
"Hello, sir."
I exchanged a quick greeting with Choi Il-eon, who had gone from coach to second-team manager.
"What brings you here?"
"Ah, I was on my way home and... I wanted to see someone."
When I glanced toward Park Minhu, who was drinking an ion beverage on the bench, Manager Choi simply told me to take my time and returned to overseeing the second-team practice. The players gave me pleading looks that basically said "please keep the manager occupied a little longer," but unfortunately I wasn't the type to drag out conversations.
"Hello, Park Minhu."
"You're...?"
I got straight to the point, explaining that our next opponent was Munhwi High and asking if he had any useful information for us.
"Uh, why are you suddenly asking about Munhwi...?"
"You used to play there, right?"
"............How did you..."
"That's enough."
Before the flustered Park Minhu could finish, Choi Younghoon—the player I'd seen before—stepped in front of me.
...
"Gathering information is fine, but this kid was never a starter at Munhwi. He won't have much to offer."
"Ah, I see. I thought since the starting pitcher is someone named Na, they might be close..."
"You should watch out for the catcher, Na Hyunsu."
"Wait, Park Minhu..."
Park Minhu began speaking with a dark expression. Choi Younghoon tried to stop the conversation, clearly aware of what was coming, but...
"His play is extremely rough. If it means winning, he'll intentionally throw at batters to injure them. He's the type to use dirty tricks. He also throws his bat during his swing sometimes, so be careful."
"I see... Thank you for telling me."
Even so, Park Minhu calmly gave me what information he had about Munhwi.
Na Hyunsu, was it?
The starting catcher for Munhwi. A dirty, aggressive player who preferred plunking batters over issuing walks. And the one who had deliberately blocked the plate, leaving Park Minhu with a career-threatening leg injury.
Park Minhu's trauma is supposed to be overcome during the national tournament, but...
"Later, you should watch the edited highlights of the Haneul High versus Munhwi game. It'll be interesting."
I figured it wouldn't hurt to let him know the opponent wasn't that big of a deal. With those words, I left the batting center and headed home.
The morning of the sixth Weekend League game against Munhwi High had arrived.