The Miracle Ointment
The doctor, catching his breath, continued his detailed explanation.
"And pain in the dislocated area..."
Having lived with injuries all over his body before his regression, Tae-woong was practically a semi-expert on elbows and shoulders in particular. Even so, this was his first time experiencing a hip dislocation, so he listened intently to every word of the doctor's explanation without missing a beat. After years of injuries and rehab, he'd come to believe that no one could take responsibility for his body but himself—and that he had to know his own condition better than anyone else.
"Doctor, once the spinal anesthesia wears off a bit, can I be discharged right away?"
Tae-woong asked urgently after hearing the full rundown. He was worried about his scheduled start against the Eagles in six days, per the rotation.
Life's unpredictable. Who knows? The guy they throw in my place might shine and lock down the rotation spot. I could end up waiting for another starter to get hurt, or head to the bullpen. Or rot in Double-A forever...
Slim chance, sure, but if he ended up in the minors due to this injury, there was no guarantee he'd slot right back into the rotation upon returning to the first team. Not any more than he'd gotten his spot because someone else got hurt.
"Not right away, no. You need to stay admitted at least until tomorrow. The CT scan didn't show any bone fragments—small bone chips—stuck in the joint surface, or any damage to the joint itself. Still, moving around too soon after a dislocation is risky. Let's keep you here a day or two to monitor. Some folks discharge feeling fine, push it with exercise, and come back worse."
Any other player might demand immediate discharge, claiming they were fine—out of ignorance of the risks. And with no guaranteed spot in the first-team rotation short-term, the anxiety would push it. But Tae-woong knew better than anyone the importance of proper treatment and rest. He nodded without protest.
"Got it. I'll do as you say."
"Alright. Once the anesthesia fades and sensation returns a bit, ring for the nurse. Bell's right by the bed—no need to get up. That's all."
"Yes, Doctor. Thank you."
The doctor and nurses left the room. Soon after, having confirmed he wasn't castrated, Tae-woong's gaze turned to Jeong Myeong-eon coach, who'd been by his side.
"Coach, how'd the game end?"
"We won, so don't sweat it. The bullpen held 'em scoreless. Even Yang Ui-jin, the runner you left on first after getting hospitalized, didn't get a hit after that."
If the batters after Yang Ui-jin had scored, it would've been charged to Tae-woong as the pitcher who put him on base—not the reliever. As it stood, Tae-woong kept his line: 7 innings, 1 run.
"For real? That's great."
"You're today's winning pitcher. Kinda late, but congrats on win number two."
"Aw, shucks. Sorry you had to come to the hospital and see me like that."
"Yeah, you really put on a show, huh? Heh heh."
"Uh, Coach... about me yelling earlier, keep it quiet? Please. I'm barely legal adult—rumors of me being neutered would suck."
"I'll keep it hush, but the others? Your scream echoed down the hall outside."
Only then did Tae-woong realize the madness of what he'd done.
"What? For real? Damn... I lost it so bad, didn't even notice anyone out there."
"Yup. Nurses were changing shifts, bunch of 'em passing by. They all jumped at your holler. 'I'm not neutered! I'm not!' Heh heh heh."
"Oh man, disaster."
"What's the big deal? Heh. Reporters'll be dying to know. Tell 'em yourself: 'I'm definitely not neutered. They mistook "hip" for something else.'"
"You think anyone'd buy that?"
"Hmm... If it were me..."
The coach crossed his arms, trailing off. Tae-woong prodded.
"If it were you?"
"I'd never believe it."
"Knew I could count on y—wait, what? You wouldn't?"
"Course not. You scream like a lunatic about being neutered, then backpedal with 'Nah, I'm good'? Would you buy it?"
Tae-woong fell for the coach's convincing logic.
"Yeah, I'd call BS too..."
"Heh, glad you get it. Anyway, it's late—I'm heading home. Support staff No Seung-min'll stay tonight. Tell him if you need anything."
Only then did Tae-woong notice how late it was.
"Oh, right. Sorry for keeping you from home. Thanks, Coach."
"No sweat. Rest up. I'll swing by tomorrow."
"Yes, sir. Drive safe."
"You got it."
After Jeong Myeong-eon coach left, sensation slowly returned to Tae-woong's lower body. He called the nurse right away to confirm no issues. Even for a short, simple procedure, the anesthesia brought mild dizziness and a faint headache—he needed to lie still and rest.
With nothing else to do, he flipped on the room TV, then asked No Seung-min, the support staff supervisor lying on the empty bed next door, to grab his smartphone. As No Seung-min headed out to the car for his gear, the room emptied except for Tae-woong.
First order of business: track down the culprit who'd landed him here.
Ring ring.
"Home shopping? Whatever, doesn't matter what it is."
To prevent his voice leaking out again, he turned up the TV and hollered for Ace.
"Ace, you bastard! You think pranking people is funny?"
Ace materialized before him as if he'd been there all along the moment Tae-woong cursed.
"Didn't think you'd fall for it. Thought you knew."
"You asshole—what? Emergency surgery? Excessive bleeding? Procedure took under 15 minutes, not a drop of blood!"
"Got too into the role..."
"Look at this mess because of you! Thought I was neutered in a flash! At the ripe age of 18!"
No need for more—Tae-woong's devastated expression said it all. Game system or not, maybe because Ace projected such overt masculinity, the guy rarely apologized. But this time, owning his screw-up, he did.
"Sorry about that. Prank went too far... Right! That mission before the game."
"What? The 20 straight groundouts? Where's my reward? Random item, right? Hand it over and scram."
Tae-woong snapped, on edge.
"Kinda feel bad it blew up, so special service: I'll pick something useful for you now. Cool off."
"Hoo... What is it? Spit it out. Don't skimp even 1 km/h on velo."
Tae-woong mellowed a tad at "reward."
"Hold on, finding it... Hmm, this? Nah, out of my pay grade... This? Not huge immediate impact... Aha! Got it!"
Ace clapped, and messages popped up before Tae-woong.
Pitcher Seo Tae-woong's max velocity increases by 1 km/h.
125 km/h → 126 km/h.
Ointment That Makes New Skin Sprout. Madecassol!
Accelerates injury recovery speed (consumed after 1 use).
Using it triples recovery speed on selected injury site.
Usable on others too (team members only).
Madecassol? Never saw this in Real Baseball Ace. Kinda rings a bell though...?
Definitely new.
Effect... this is straight broken too.
Tripling recovery? Two-year injury down to eight months, one-year to four, one-month to ten days. Every game mattered to Tae-woong—this was perfect. Plus, usable on teammates.
Game item, but works on others... Can't use it now with my own injury priority, but someday it'll come in handy.
Thrilled inwardly, but loath to let this jerk off easy, Tae-woong kept a straight face and poked.
"No instant full-heal item? Something better?"
"Beyond my power... Best I can do. For real this time. Bet my wrist on it."
"Your wrist? What, chop off a hologram wrist for?"
"Obviously."
Ace detached his wrist from his arm with a whoosh. No blood, hologram perks.
"Enough. No use for it anyway."
"Suit yourself."
The wrist reattached. Small talk over, Tae-woong got down to brass tacks.
"So, use the Ointment That Makes New Skin Sprout. Madecassol now?"
"Sooner the better. Triples speed till 100% recovery."
"Using it now."
Using Ointment That Makes New Skin Sprout. Madecassol.
Select injury site to boost recovery.
"Hip joint," Tae-woong grumbled.
Hip joint injury recovery speed now tripled.
Effect lasts until 100% recovery on selected site.
"That do it?"
Tae-woong asked Ace after reading the messages. Ace shrugged.
"Yup. Done."
"Obviously not some dramatic hourly change, right? I know—three months to one, one to ten days. Already OP."
"Spot on. Oh, and..."
Rattle.
No Seung-min returned, having gone for the gear at Tae-woong's request moments ago.
"Hey, Seung-min hyung. Everything good? Took a bit."
"Sorry, kid. Ran into someone I know, had a smoke. Got all your locker stuff in the bag, phone too. Watching TV?"
As No Seung-min spoke, the home shopping channel switched from the AC sale to a new product.