"Strreeeike!"
"Strreeeike!"
"Ah, he swung at it. The bat and the ball look like they're off by at least 30cm."
"That pitch from Seo Tae-woong just now seems like a hanging changeup. Heo Kyung-man fell for it completely—empty swing."
"Exactly. If we zoom in on the slow-mo of Seo Tae-woong's grip, it looks like a changeup. You can see his wrist cocked upward a bit at release."
"Right, so he takes the first-pitch strike again. What will Seo Tae-woong go with for the second pitch?"
"Probably not a curve. That changeup just got away from him, so throwing another one in a row might be risky."
"Strreeeike!" Another first-pitch whiff? He's swinging at that?
Did those guys go on a team bender till dawn last night? That hanging fastball dives into the dirt in front of the plate, and he chases it anyway.
Seo Tae-woong: Yeah... Honestly, once the skill triggered, I thought it was over and kinda zoned out.
Anyway, those table-setters swinging so aggressively from the first pitch means they've already analyzed you to some degree.
Seo Tae-woong: No way. How many games have I even pitched in the first team?
Ace shot him a look like he was spouting nonsense.
Kukuku, dreaming too big, kid? You think those pitches of yours will work forever? Not forever, but I figured at least two months.
Kuh, you're in for it today. Good luck.
Seo Tae-woong: Yeah, gotta focus more. Ah... If only my velocity picked up a bit or one more pitch got stronger.
We'll think about that later. You know what you absolutely need to do right now?
Seo Tae-woong: What I gotta do right now...
Yeah, you know it.
Seo Tae-woong: Beg you for a skill?
...If they analyze your weaknesses and attack them, don't you gotta hit their weaknesses right back?
Seo Tae-woong: Ah! True.
System's got your head empty. Way too complacent, huh?
He might've argued back normally, but Tae-woong knew he had a point, so he just listened quietly. Even his response came out glum.
Seo Tae-woong: I've exploited batters' weaknesses before. But I've never been exploited like this. In Double-A, if they hit my stuff it was a single at best—wait for a walk otherwise. Ugh...
Ah, damn... Yeah, true. Sorry. My bad—I forgot. Just throw the ball. I'm out.
Ace vanished, embarrassed by Tae-woong's grumbling.
Ace is right. The system matters, but I need to analyze these batters more closely.
After a brief moment of reflection, Tae-woong kept pitching.
Still, gotta handle the guy in front of me first.
For his second pitch, Tae-woong went with the obvious curve Ace had called out—same outside course.
Whoosh.
"Strreeeike!"
The curve on the second pitch made it 0-2. His third—a high inside fastball—sailed high for a ball, 1-2. The fourth crammed the outside corner with a changeup. This one, unlike the hanging first pitch, went exactly where Tae-woong wanted.
With the count not stacked against him at two strikes, the batter might've laid off that course. But he couldn't resist the temptation.
Whiff!
The changeup dived beautifully under the zone, and Heo Kyung-man swung through again for the strikeout.
Right away, the skill effect kicked in.
Strikeout on Heo Kyung-man via whiff.
Stamina restored equal to pitches thrown against the batter.
It notifies me right away. But I haven't thrown many yet—don't feel less tired... Guess I'll notice as I go.
While Tae-woong pondered the skill, the Bears' third hitter, Park Geon-woong, stepped up with two outs.
Park Geon-woong...
Tae-woong recalled the batter data he'd memorized from the dugout.
Scouting report says he's strong against curves, weak to sliders and high pitches.
Strong against Tae-woong's putaway curve, weak up high, good eye, and power. Among the Bears' lineup, he was the trickiest.
Gotta concentrate.
Let a fast runner on with two outs, and the good flow from the start breaks. Plus, One More After Out would end after the first.
Can't let that happen. My stamina isn't full-game complete-game level yet...
Without that skill, Tae-woong would've fired a high inside fastball first pitch, 99% sure. But not now—no room for bold risks.
He shook his head.
If my fastball hit 135km/h, I'd jam him high first pitch. But right now, even a weak contact could carry to the wall...
Tae-woong decided to go with catcher Lee Hye-chan's sign. No point overthinking—the catcher would know best.
Hye-chan called for a low-inside four-seam fastball.
Yeah. Keep it low on that course, and even on contact, no extra bases.
Tae-woong gripped four-seam and fired.
Whoosh.
Ah, veered a bit at the end.
As he thought, it missed the zone by about a ball's width. Park Geon-woong judged it a ball off the plate and stepped back, wary of it tailing near his knees.
That's when Hye-chan's catcher talent and cleverness shone.
Thwack.
The instant the ball hit his mitt, his left arm stayed frozen, but from the umpire's blind angle, he subtly twisted his wrist inward.
The ball in the mitt sat half on the strike zone border—perfect framing. Natural as could be.
The ump hesitated a second, watching the inside pitch. Wiz players on the field, both dugouts, fans, broadcasters—everyone held their breath.
The ump, who'd frozen, thrust out a hand.
"Strike!"
Tae-woong snagged the first-pitch strike thanks to Hye-chan's help.
Calling that a strike? Even I think that's no conscience.
"If you wish hard enough, the whole universe helps"... Thought it was bullshit, but damn if it ain't true.
Seo Tae-woong: Universe is helping—how about you step up too, Ace?
Universe got you—me jumping in would be bullying the batter. Staying neutral for now.
Seo Tae-woong: Won't budge an inch. Not an inch.
What'll come first pitch...? If he's got heat, probably high fastball from the jump. But no one's crazy enough...
Park Geon-woong silently watched leadoff hitter Choi Jun-hwan flub the first pitch for an out.
"Ugh! Shoulda laid off. So close, driving me nuts."
Choi trudged back to the dugout, dejected. When No. 2 Heo Kyung-man whiffed on the outside changeup, Park grabbed the Wiz pitching scouting report from the dugout corner and reviewed Seo Tae-woong's page again.
Velocity slower than Hee-gang hyung, but command's sharp... Main pitches: corner-jamming four-seam with good life despite the speed, decent changeup. Out pitch: big velocity gap, top-tier KBO bite on the curve...
Even to him, this rookie looked solid per the data.
And it doesn't detail it, but good ball mix. Wait, that's more catcher and bench calling—makes sense it's not listed.
The table-setters went down meekly in five pitches to a high school rookie debutante. Leadoff even out on the first pitch.
Not that Choi deserved blame for mishitting it. From the dugout, Tae-woong's stuff looked better than the numbers.
Curve, change... That big-drop, lively breaking ball in front—no confidence in squaring it up. Guess I gotta cut everything borderline and hunt mistakes?
A tactic for pitchers with perfect slider angle and heavy high heat, or when they're dealing lights-out beyond normal.
Rare against rookies. But it required seeing and feeling the arsenal live—body memory.
You had to abandon power swings, just meet the ball. Half-hearted cuts led to pop-ups or slow rollers.
Tougher than I thought? Damn... First time facing him today—what am I supposed to know?
Park had reasons to worry.
Most starters threw three to six pitches. Exceptions: chameleon types winning with mixes, or two-pitch guys maxing extremes.
Tae-woong fit the norm.
In must-strike counts like 3-0, starters go to their best stuff—the decider, usually one to three pitches.
First matchup—who's favored? Not the batter, despite limited guesses. It's the batter's feel from seeing it live, beyond stats.
So Park decided to watch at least one pitch closely.
Seo Tae-woong, right? Near 2m tall, long arms—trajectory's longer than expected. Gotta get a read. Plenty more at-bats today.
He'd get more chances this game, so...
Okay, just one. Still time. Focus, and I can hit that slow stuff.
As Park resolved, a red-seamed sphere left Tae-woong's hand.
Whiiish!
"Can't wait to see how Seo Tae-woong fares against the Bears' heart of the order! And right as I say that—he fires the first pitch!"