A New Offer
A new offer.
Invincible Baseball.
A variety show built on a singularly clever idea: gather retired baseball legends in one place and put them back on the diamond. Their prime years might have long since passed, but assembling those scattered legends onto a single roster was the kind of thing that only ever happened in video games or pure fantasy.
Form might have slipped a notch, but the experience those men had stacked up over a decade or more still let them play with a seasoned, unflappable craft against young, hungry talent — and they rarely looked outmatched.
For any viewer who loved baseball, it was irresistible.
As the show found its footing, it began staging promotional exhibition games with celebrity former players and entertainers who still played in amateur leagues. Three years of that formula, and Invincible Baseball had ridden a steady wave of success.
Producer Choi Jae-woo of Invincible Baseball pushed his battered glasses up the bridge of his nose and scrolled through the message board.
Lately he had one problem that would not leave him alone.
The ratings were bleeding, day by day.
The hardcore baseball fans still tuned in, but he knew the truth: without a fresh hook, the audience would keep thinning, and the ending of that story was never pretty.
And it was not as if he had a ready solution. They had already squeezed every last celebrity who could swing a bat into a uniform. There was no one left to wring out.
So the numbers kept sliding, the higher-ups kept breathing down his neck, and Choi Jae-woo's gray hairs kept multiplying — until he found it.
Gil Ara — the breathtakingly beautiful actress who had rocketed to stardom on the back of a terrifyingly powerful performance.
Her ceremonial first pitch had exploded into a media frenzy. People — especially the fans who lived and breathed Invincible Baseball — flooded the boards demanding she be cast. Die-hard baseball fans usually hated celebrity guests, but this time even they closed ranks and marched in lockstep.
That face. That body. And a woman who threw heat like that.
Under the weight of those requests, the lines on Choi Jae-woo's forehead only deepened.
"I want to cast her too."
Of course he did. He had thought the same thing the moment he saw her, and he had already sent the request.
The answer: radio silence.
A hold? Or a flat rejection?
If it was a hold, he would go in person and talk her into it. If it was a rejection — well, he would still go in person and talk her into it. Her value was that high.
Think about it. A young actress whose popularity was rocketing skyward. A rare left-hander with a low three-quarter delivery. And the ball that left her hand clocked one hundred thirty kilometers an hour — heat no one expected from a woman. The trajectory, as the first-pitch footage had already proven, was pure despair for a right-handed batter. Some corners of the internet were already calling her the second coming of Randy Jones. The batter flinching out of pure instinct had been almost inevitable.
And then there was her ceiling. What if training made her even faster? What if she had more pitches than the one she had shown that day?
The moment those possibilities lit up in his head, whole seasons of concepts and set pieces started flashing past.
Ding-ding-ding—
A phantom bell started ringing inside his skull. It might as well have been a death knell for his remaining free time.
"We have to cast her. No matter what."
Barely past lunch, Choi Jae-woo grabbed a slim document bag and walked out of the station.
♪
A little hum floated through the air.
The source: Gil Ara.
She was a hardcore homebody, a master of entertaining herself. And that was fine. She was neither lonely nor bored.
Drip—
Tears welled up, but they were not tears of sadness.
Chop— chop—
A girl who had lived on games alone had started branching out, and her first experiment was cooking.
"Augh! My eyes are on fire!!"
Ara complained at the onion that had reduced her to tears.
Chop— chop—
She finished the onion and piled it with the rest of the prepped vegetables. The gas burner roared to life; she laid the marinated meat into a slick of oil in the pan.
Sizzle—
"Oh! That smells good?"
Today's attempt was every man's soul food: pork duruchigi.
Once the meat had some color, she dumped the vegetables on top and started stir-frying everything together.
"Heh. Visuals are insane."
Slurp—
Clack—
She scooped rice from the pressure cooker, plated it with the meat, and set the table.
"Alright! Before we eat—!"
Games had drilled one almost-creed into her: everything in the world has a score. Rankings in games, standings in sports, grades in everything else.
"Therefore, this dish also deserves to be graded."
She picked up a book she had prepared in advance.
"And now, please welcome the teacher who will evaluate my cooking."
She had grabbed a vaguely famous chef's autobiography off a bookstore shelf and brought it home. Just like with Randy Jones, she tried Sensory Sharing.
Target identified.
"Got it!"
Everything was ready. All that remained was the judgment.
"Teacher, I leave myself in your hands!"
And so began Ara's first cooking evaluation.
Sensory Sharing: Gordon Ramsay
Chew, chew—
"……"
Hmm.
Uh.
What was this rising from the back of her throat…?
Was the food coming back up?
Or was it a curse?
Who was this man, to gift her a sensation like this?
Insane… truly, mind-meltingly…
She was about to start swearing.
"Ptoo!!"
She could not hold it. Ara spat something of unspeakable texture back onto the plate. The seal on her mouth broke, and words poured out like machine-gun fire.
"What the actual hell is this!!"
And so the self-evaluation began.
"The rice is undercooked!"
Each grain of rice had so much personality she wanted to name them individually and debut them as an idol group.
Next she tried the fresh kimchi she had tossed herself.
"The cabbage and the seasoning are living completely separate lives?!"
If she had switched careers to car detailing, she would already be a multi-millionaire sitting on a mountain of cash.
"Ugh…"
Finally, the pork duruchigi…
"It's drowning in grease…"
……So this was where the oil-producing nation had been hiding. If America saw this plate, they would invade on the spot.
"The vegetables aren't even slightly wilted?"
Did she personally perform CPR on every single one of them? As a doctor, her talent was frankly outstanding.
"So the overall grade is…… the culinary world has just met an exceptional teacher."
An unexpectedly generous verdict slipped out of her mouth.
A cautionary example!!
Released.
"…Shit."
Ara had never taken a hit quite like this. People said self-flagellation could become the fertilizer for future growth, but this had hurt far too much…
"Let's just order delivery……"
No more cooking for a while…
A whip that heavy was more than enough to shatter a person's will.
YW Entertainment reception room.
"Hey. Ara, you made it. Sorry for calling you in out of nowhere."
"Yes…. Representative…. It's fine…."
A little past lunch, Jeong Yeo-un had asked if she could swing by the company for a moment, and Ara had agreed without complaint.
But.
Why does she look so drained? Did she skip lunch?
He had no idea. With this kid, "weird" was not a one-day or two-day phenomenon. In Jeong Yeo-un's mind, Ara's image had long since calcified into "that strange girl."
Across from him, a man was studying Ara with quiet intensity.
Huh…. I knew she was pretty, but the real thing is on another level.
He was the producer in charge of Invincible Baseball.
"First, say hello. This is Producer Choi Jae-woo."
"Ah. Hello? I'm Gil Ara."
She had no idea who he was, but she offered a polite greeting anyway.
"Nice to meet you, Ara. Choi Jae-woo. I'm the main producer on Invincible Baseball."
Ahh.
Ara clocked the situation instantly. The aftershock of that first pitch had finally come knocking. Casting requests had already arrived, and she had left them on hold without any real answer. That silence had dragged the main producer himself through the door.
Sorry about that…
"I apologize."
"?"
Just as Ara was feeling guilty, it was Choi Jae-woo who apologized first.
"Normally we'd set a proper meeting through the usual channels, but the situation was urgent enough that I came unannounced."
"Ah, yes. It's fine."
More formal than I expected. And he seems pretty upbeat, too.
Before coming, Choi Jae-woo had done his homework on Gil Ara. What he had gathered: blunt, says whatever is on her mind, pretty but eccentric. That much checked out. Moving on.
"As you've probably guessed, I came in person because I want to cast you on Invincible Baseball."
Choi Jae-woo got down to business.
"First — are you familiar with what kind of program Invincible Baseball is?"
She was not.
"Yes. Roughly."
But for the other person's sake, Ara lied.
I can look it up later anyway.
"Glad to hear it. Even so, let me walk you through the show one more time."
Choi Jae-woo gave a broad overview of Invincible Baseball, and fortunately Ara came away with a clear picture of what the program actually was.
"So? Does it sound interesting at all?"
"Hmm."
Honestly, she still was not sure.
"Producer, you haven't laid out the terms yet."
Jeong Yeo-un cut in from the side.
"Ah! Right. I got ahead of myself. Let me go over the terms."
Choi Jae-woo pulled a prepared stack of papers from his bag.
"This is what we're planning for this round. Take a look."
He handed a copy each to Jeong Yeo-un and Ara.
"The concept is a matchup between the legend players and a celebrity baseball team."
"Wouldn't the celebrity side be hopelessly outgunned?"
Jeong Yeo-un pushed back — and it was a fair question. No amateur-level celebrity roster was ever going to beat those legends.
"Of course. That's why the people going into the celebrity team are veterans who've been grinding on our show for a long time. At this point you could honestly call them semi-pro."
"Still not enough to match them, though."
"Right. Which is why we prepared wild cards."
"Wild cards?"
"Yes. The weaker celebrity team gets three wild cards. They pick three players from the legend roster and bring them over. Our assessment is that should even the power out to something close to fair."
"Hmm. Wild cards, huh."
Jeong Yeo-un sank into thought.
"So what's in it for our Ara?"
"First, she trains with the team. You understand that part, right?"
"Yes."
"In particular, the entire celebrity team's training process will be filmed and aired. And once the last episode wraps, we plan to broadcast a live game from the baseball stadium in Jamsil, with a full crowd."
"What?"
Jeong Yeo-un startled.
The scale on this is way bigger than I thought.
"Then…. what does Ara actually do?"
"First, the appearance fee."
Choi Jae-woo spread every finger on both hands.
"Five hundred per episode. Four episodes planned. The finale is a live broadcast from Jamsil."
Huh. They're coming in heavy.
They're paying a ton?
"And."
"And?"
"We'll give Ara the starting pitcher slot."
"!?"
?
"Well. What do you say."
Refuse if you can.
.
.
.
Ara and Jeong Yeo-un stepped out of the reception room for a moment.
"Ara, what do you want to do?"
"Hmm…."
Honestly, she still did not know. She barely understood baseball, and the money was just… money. It did sound fun, though. At the same time, the thought this is going to be a pain rose right alongside it.
"Honestly. This is a good opportunity, Ara."
Jeong Yeo-un spoke to the girl still turning it over.
"Your name recognition has gone up, but Invincible Baseball has a hardcore fan base that would be good for you too. And terms like that? A first-year rookie never sees numbers like these."
"I see."
"And the 'good at sports' image plays better than people think. Action roles start preferring you, too."
Oh? Action. Not bad.
"And more than anything — do you even have an image left to protect at this point?"
"……"
Jeong Yeo-un had originally planned to sell her as a mysterious beauty. That plan had already failed spectacularly.
"Might as well use this to rehab the image a little. Show some hard work in training and who knows — maybe that Gwang-nyeon-i label starts peeling off."
He jabbed straight at Ara's sore spot. He was right. He was right, and somehow that made it more annoying.
"For now…. let's go back in. The producer's waiting."
"Alright."
They returned to the reception room.
"Did you two have a good talk?"
"Yes."
Ara answered.
"So, Ara — are the terms to your liking?"
They were. Jeong Yeo-un's points had landed. But the finer details still felt fuzzy, so she chose curiosity over silence.
"I'm still not sure."
"!"
"!?"
Are you insane…! Ara, what are you doing!!
E-even with terms like these, she's not sure???
"Could you walk me through the conditions again from the beginning, in detail?"
Jeong Yeo-un suddenly remembered that day — the day Ara had skinned him and the Citrine president alive.
This monster of a kid. If the money isn't enough, just say the money isn't enough.
Even among demons, this was a special kind of demon.
Huh. Confidence? Or arrogance?
Choi Jae-woo was thinking roughly the same thing.
A rookie this bold.
But another thought followed.
She's got guts. Probably coming from real confidence.
He remembered something Director Ha Il-gwon had said not long ago.
So she thinks her market value is higher than this. Interesting.
In the end, the thirsty man digs the well.
"Fine. We'll change the terms. Seven point five million won."
"?"
"Four episodes makes thirty million, correct?"
"Huh? Yes."
What is he even saying?
"I'm not done!! On top of that — if she starts and the celebrity team beats the legends, another ten million!! How about it! Is that enough!?!?"
"Huh?? Ah, yes!"
Pinned under Choi Jae-woo's sheer force of will, Ara finally answered.
?????
In the end she signed the contract that had already been prepared, and her appearance was locked in.
.
.
.
Choi Jae-woo left the YW building.
Hoo—
He exhaled a thick stream of cigarette smoke and dialed someone.
"Yeah, hello……."
"Yes, sunbae. Did you land the casting?"
"Yeah……."
"Whoa!!! That's such a relief, seriously!!"
The voice on the other end was genuinely thrilled.
"But I screwed up."
"What?"
"Pull every PPL and ad deal you can get your hands on, and draft a full promo plan and report it back……."
.
.
.
"Ara. I had forgotten what you were."
"?"
A master of negotiation. A talent that can drop pure despair on the other side of the table.
Gil Ara.
With a single sentence, she had walked away with an extra twenty million won — a filial daughter among filial daughters.
Granted, that was only if they won the game.
She's not actually going to win, is she?
Jeong Yeo-un remained somewhat skeptical.
Whoosh— crack!!!
Click—
Whoosh— crack!!!
Someone was replaying Ara's first-pitch footage on a loop.
"She's way too much like Randy."
The man watching was Kim Byeong-heun — once half of the hellish duo with Randy Jones in Arizona. Better known as Beopgyu-hyeong, or BK.
Beopgyu-hyeong was currently serving as a coach for the legend team on Invincible Baseball.
"Hmm. I'd like to see her in person."
The producer would probably cast her. Beopgyu-hyeong found himself hoping Gil Ara made it onto the show.
"If possible, it'd be fun to take the field with her too. That'd be a blast."
For a moment, a ghost of the old days flickered past — BK, standing rock-solid behind Randy Jones.