Kya, the Upjinsal Melts So Tenderly!

“Kya, this upjinsal is melting in my mouth!”

“Tae-woong, how's the meat treating you?”

“Yeah, hyung. It's seriously delicious.”

“Dude, the kid's grabbing five pieces at a time—how could it not be good? I feel bad even asking.”

“Ask me if it's good too.”

“Ask yourself and answer it.”

As they bantered while picking at the sizzling beef on the grill, Tae-woong was channeling Hiddink's “I'm still hungry” spirit from the 2002 World Cup miracle, ordering more meat like he was putting it into practice himself.

“Auntie, can we get five more servings of upjinsal and five of flower sirloin? Refill all the sides too, please.”

“Sure thing.”

“Oh, and one doenjang jjigae, one bibim naengmyeon, and three bottles of soda.”

“See? He's the one eating the best out of all of us.”

The massive baseball players' appetites had wiped the grill clean in no time, and Jang Man-jae, who was leading their little team gathering, raised his glass.

“Alright, everyone, glasses up. Beer drinkers, just one more. Non-drinkers, soda or cola!”

Tae-woong, with his starting rotation gig just two days away, felt his pupils quake like an earthquake.

Cold beer... Haven't had any in over half a year. Driving me crazy. Maybe just one?

Abstinence during the season was pitcher basics, but tomorrow was a rest day with no games, and for big guys like them, one beer wouldn't even register.

But Ace's dagger words made his beer-bound arm swerve hard to the soda instead.

“Alright, a toast to Hana Eagles' return to postseason play after 11 years—and onward to the championship! And to Tae-woong's stellar start in Tuesday's game!”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

“To that!”

“To that!”

“Thanks, everyone!”

The welcome party doubling as a team dinner wrapped up just shy of three hours after they started grilling.

Back in his one-room, Tae-woong finished tidying up and flopped onto his bed.

A toast for me... First time in my life, I think.

It was a small group, not even ten people, but hey, that counted. He had a feeling he'd have good dreams tonight.

“Tae-woong, that's it for today. Good work. I've got somewhere to be, so I'm heading out first. Don't stay too late—you know messing up your condition the day before a start is a total bust.”

“Of course, Coach. Thanks for all your hard work! Go on ahead. I'll head out soon too.”

Monday after the dinner. A rest day? Only for the other pitchers. For him, tomorrow's starter, it might as well not exist.

“Gotta check one more time before I go. Obvious he'd suffer tomorrow otherwise.”

Tae-woong reviewed the Bears' lineup once more on the massive projector dominating one wall of the meeting room, then headed back to his dorm.

They had good reason to worry about the schedule ahead.

Sure, every team played the other nine sixteen times fairly over the regular season. But back-to-backs against powerhouses ramped up the focus for hitters and pitchers alike, draining stamina in the process.

This season had the Jakarta Asian Games every four years, with baseball as an official event and national team duty looming. For the Eagles, the timing wasn't bad—post-All-Star break, then Asian Games rest, then second half.

So naturally, every team, Eagles included, preferred facing top teams in the late season when standings were set, riding that rest-fueled peak condition.

“Can't exactly push it to the second half, though...”

A familiar yet alien speech pattern. Tae-woong recalled a drama his mom used to watch.

“Don't tell me that cringe talk is from Descendants of the Sun...”

Late morning, Tae-woong woke to his pre-set smartphone alarm from last night, got ready ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to head out, then sat back on the bed to check his rewards from the last game.

Five B-grades from blocking Napert's 100-win milestone via mission, five more for his own fourth win, plus one C-grade and two B-grades from the batters.

As always, Ace denied Tae-woong's luck.

Unlike Ace's freakout, Tae-woong replied indifferently. He had no logical explanation anymore.

“Bug schmog, I know nothing. Can't return 'em. What now?”

Tae-woong brushed off witnessing the curse firsthand. Ace's jinxes had never worked on him anyway, proven time and again.

Rubbing his hands eagerly, he said,

“Love this moment most.”

Bears' lineup: four lefties, five righties. Half-ish strong vs. lefties—four guys—but excluding cleanup Kim Jae-hwang (lefty), Park Geon-woong, Yang Ui-jin, and Kim Jae-hong were all righties.

And they shared a weakness.

“All three solid against curves.”

Tae-woong, lefty pitcher. Main arsenal: curve, changeup, four-seam fastball backbone.

If those three tough righties feasted on curves? Answer was obvious.

Dial back curve usage, lead with four-seam/changeup combo, mix in low-inside two-seamers, toss occasional inside/outside curves to wreck their balance.

Honestly, his current changeup could hang with Bears' power hitters.

Not like no-hits through nine or shutout nonsense, but...

No overconfidence—arrogance bred complacency, complacency meant runs. Baseball truth.

No hesitation left post-choice. Results started popping up.

Changeup (35).

*35: Weak Bench / KBO 2nd Starter

Not much of a process—just success or fail flashing by.

All tickets gone, Tae-woong's eyes sparkled like a five-year-old spotting a new robot toy.

“Up again! Changeup hit 35!”

Two straight B-grade successes mid-process jumped it from 31 to 35. In under a week, another level-up.

“Hey, did I ever properly introduce myself to you?”

“Hello. Seo Tae-woong, Hana Eagles starter who can steamroll KBO 2nd starters with my changeup.”

Grinning smugly at Ace, he said.

Ace, witnessing the impossible firsthand, screamed and buzzed frantically around the room.

“What mosquito's buzzing so loud...”

Business done, Tae-woong grabbed his bag and headed out.

“Heading to work now. Have a good cry by yourself, flying dude.”