The Protagonist (2)

"Hmm… What's this supposed to be?"

The film festival had ended, and Ara had obtained a clue.

"Some clue this is. Is it religious or something? I'm not even religious."

And just like the first time, she understood absolutely nothing about it.

"Yeah, I've got zero read on this one."

If I keep shooting more movies and dramas, filling out my filmography — will I eventually be able to figure this clue out?

"Oh?"

It had been rambling on by itself, and now it was throwing her a freebie.

"What is this, a karaoke machine?"

Either way, Ara checked the newly obtained clue.

"Uh."

What the hell is this.

It had clearly been 36.387 at first, but now four extra digits had slapped themselves onto the end.

"This is what you call an enhancement?"

Giving me clues is fine, but would it kill you to make them actually understandable?

When you really thought about it, she was living as an actress against her will because of this System. The least it could do was be a little more helpful.

Not that she hated living as an actress, mind you.

"Well, another one filled in, at least."

There was a certain satisfaction in stacking up her career piece by piece — and life was fun this way, so she wasn't complaining.

And with the addition to her filmography, her special privileges had undergone a slight change as well.

No new skill had been added — the existing one had simply been strengthened.

"Well, at least it's being a little nicer this time."

The explanation still came off as unfriendly, but compared to before, it was night and day.

A newly added list. And three empty slots.

As someone who played her fair share of games, Ara immediately clocked what this meant.

"So I can save scripts? Or characters?"

Probably the latter.

"Saving whole scripts would be way too broken."

Still, to be sure, she pulled up the script for Stalker on her phone.

Knew it.

Exactly as she'd predicted.

"Hmm."

Tsk. Kinda mid, honestly?

As long as she had her phone and a script on it, she could already channel any character she wanted. So what was the point of saving?

So far, she couldn't see any use for it at all.

"Still… might as well try saving something."

The feature was already there, so Ara figured she might as well use it.

"Hmm…"

A thought suddenly struck her. What if she loaded up characters that were actually useful in real life and swapped them in freely whenever she needed?

"This might actually be pretty solid…?"

She waved her hand, and the translucent window vanished.

"Time to hit the gym."

Ara gathered her clothes, got dressed, and stood up from her seat.

Genius.

It was a word that always clung to anyone who stood out brilliantly in their field. Everyone here had once been called a prospect among their peers, then stepped out into a wider world and proven themselves. Every last one of them had been called a genius in their own domain.

But they all knew the truth.

Sweat shed and hours of effort put in would always outweigh raw talent. Precisely because they were all extraordinarily gifted people, they understood that better than anyone.

Hard work never betrays you. Hard work conquers talent. Those words had become something like a personal motto for them — and thanks to that, they had become legends, etched so deeply into the public's memory that people still talked about them to this day.

"Ah! Boss. That young lady's comin' in today, ain't she?"

At the gym in Goyang that the Invincible Baseball team used exclusively for training, Lee Tae-hwan — an infielder and legendary home-run king — approached Kim Byeong-heun in his thick regional drawl.

"Yeah, supposedly she'll be here soon. Why, something up?"

"Honestly, it just don't sit right with me. Baseball ain't no joke, and I can't wrap my head around stickin' a mercenary in just 'cause her pitch speed's a little high."

"…You've got a point."

Kim Byeong-heun knew exactly what Lee Tae-hwan was getting at. Frankly, he was a little unhappy about it himself.

The players they'd be facing were active second-string pros. For a simple exhibition match, the scale of this thing looked way too big. Even fielding the full Invincible Baseball roster, their odds of losing were higher. And on top of that, the pitcher's spot — arguably the most critical position in baseball — had been handed to a celebrity mercenary.

A female celebrity, no less.

"Sure, it'll pull in the ratings and the aggro. But even for a variety show, some things just ain't right. So what if her speed's decent? Velocity ain't everything — command matters, stamina matters. Hell, I don't even know if she knows the rules of the game."

Baseball was a hard game. Compared to other sports, the technical demands were on another level entirely — which was why the gap between amateurs and pros was so vast. Especially for pitchers. And Kim Byeong-heun, a former Major League pitcher and the current pitching coach for Invincible Baseball, knew that better than anyone.

"And honestly speakin', a hundred-thirty ain't even that fast, is it? Who on this team can't hit that?"

Lee Tae-hwan kept venting, and every word of it was fair.

"The boys got seniors around, so they can't show it, but they're plenty pissed off too."

"Just calm down for now. She's coming today, so let's train with her and check her skill level first. This was already decided — you know I don't have the power to change it."

"Got it. Sorry, Boss. Just needed to gripe a bit. I'll head back and rest."

Lee Tae-hwan gave Kim Byeong-heun a quick bow and muttered as he walked away.

"We're just gonna embarrass ourselves in front of the kids."

.

.

.

"Welcome, Ara-ssi."

"Hello, PD-nim."

Ara arrived at the gym in Goyang and met Choi Jae-woo.

"Ara, I've got something the CEO asked me to handle, so I'll be gone for a bit."

"Okay, Manager-nim. See you later."

Nam Tae-woo dropped her off and stepped out for a while.

"Before we go in, Ara-ssi — there's something I need to warn you about."

"Yes?"

"To be honest, the mood inside Invincible Baseball toward you… isn't great right now."

"I see."

Pretty much what I expected. They probably think I'm taking baseball lightly.

"Are you okay with that, Ara-ssi?"

"Yeah. It'll work out somehow. I'll give it my best."

But Ara was fine. She had her broken special privileges, after all.

"Thank ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you."

Choi Jae-woo grinned.

"Shall we head in, then?"

"Yes."

Ara followed PD Choi Jae-woo into the gym — and the moment she stepped inside, the gazes that hit her made her do something she almost never did: flinch with genuine alarm.

Whoa, what is with those eyes…

Looks laced with a quiet, simmering displeasure were all aimed at her.

This is…

She'd expected it, but the pressure was heavier than she'd braced for.

These ajusshis look like straight-up gangsters…

"Alright, everyone! Gather up for a moment, please!"

At Choi Jae-woo's call, everyone connected to Invincible Baseball began assembling in one place. The cameras that were already rolling followed right along.

"This is Gil Ara-ssi — our mercenary and starting pitcher for the next project."

At Choi Jae-woo's introduction, Ara took a step forward.

"Hello. I'm Gil Ara. Looking forward to working with you."

A straightforward introduction left her lips.

Clap, clap, clap, clap—

Perfunctory applause trickled out.

Total leftover duck on the Nakdong River, huh.

She understood. She really did. But still…

This feeling is…

Off. Weird. Unsettling. She didn't have the anatomy for it, but that was the vibe.

"As I mentioned beforehand, recording has already begun. So please refrain from any excessively harsh language or behavior."

"Yes."

They each nodded in their own way.

Then one man carefully raised his hand and called out to Choi Jae-woo.

"PD-nim."

Hmm, that guy is…?

Ara had already memorized every face and name on the roster before coming.

Lee Jae-hun, right? Position: catcher.

He was going to be her battery partner. A man with a clean, open forehead and thick, striking eyebrows.

"Yes, Jae-hun-ssi. Go ahead."

"I'd like to ask Ara-ssi a few questions."

"Ara-ssi?"

Choi Jae-woo turned to her as if seeking permission.

"Yes. Please go ahead."

"Ara-ssi, have you ever played baseball before?"

The question everyone had been dying to ask. Lee Jae-hun — her future battery partner and the team's leader — asked it on behalf of them all.

"No. This is my first time."

And just as they'd half-feared, the answer they'd all expected came right back.

Hrm—!

Mm.

Ahem…

Uneasy murmurs and uncomfortable expressions bubbled up all around. Choi Jae-woo had anticipated every beat of this scene. He wasn't stupid.

Casting her as the starting pitcher was, frankly, a gamble bordering on reckless. If she'd found it burdensome, she would have refused without hesitation. She was a rising actress at the peak of her momentum. She knew her market value down to the won and put it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the table without flinching — just like she had during negotiations. If this project tanked, the person who would take the biggest hit was Gil Ara herself. He'd explained all of that to her, and she had still accepted.

She must have something up her sleeve. That's why she pushed the fee even higher.

So he had expected this scene. He was the main PD of Invincible Baseball. Before it was baseball, it was variety. And the flower of variety was direction — which was the PD's job.

He surveyed the atmosphere in the room. An outsider being shut out. That was Gil Ara's current position. The first button had been fastened exactly as planned. From here on, everything hinged on her actions.

She needs to show real skill now and start turning her image around…

Working hard mattered, but the situation right now was a little different.

Please just do well…

A board where she absolutely had to perform. A gamble with vanishingly low odds of winning — and yet one they absolutely had to win. The gamble Choi Jae-woo was staking his entire PD career ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on had just begun.

"I'll give it everything I've got."

As if she'd overheard every one of Choi Jae-woo's private thoughts, Ara spoke up.

"Yes. Work hard, Ara-ssi. We're now officially entering observation mode. Everyone, keep the usual precautions in mind. Once again — looking forward to working with you all!"

Choi Jae-woo bowed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the waist.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap—

This time the applause carried real sincerity, nothing like the hollow clapping for Ara. Choi Jae-woo left to return to his station, and the people remaining stared at Ara with a look that was somehow both looking and not looking.

Heh? This blatant?

This feeling wasn't unfamiliar. It was like standing alone atop a lonely tower, facing down enemies by herself.

Ah — wait, this time they're allies?

But that was familiar too. Her enemies had never cared about friend or foe.

Shit.

PD Choi Jae-woo had said it himself. The protagonist of this project was her.

Protagonists are supposed to be lonely…

And so, under a quiet wave of rejection, Ara was busy winning a war of mental fortitude.

Damn, though. She really is ridiculously pretty…

With that body, she threw a ball like that…?

We'll show her baseball is no joke.

If it gets too hard, she'll quit on her own.

While everyone was swimming through their own private thoughts—

"Alright! Listen up!"

Head Coach Kwon Se-hun's voice cut through. Everyone, including Ara, turned toward him.

"Since it's Ara-ssi's first day, we'll do a skill assessment combined with conditioning."

Conditioning, huh…

Stamina was something she was confident about. Still—

I probably can't beat professional athletes, right?

They may have retired, but these were people who had spent their entire lives training. A little worry was inevitable.

"Everyone warm up, then reassemble here in ten minutes. Anyone with injuries or special circumstances?"

At Kwon Se-hun's final question, a few hands went up.

"Coach. If I run right now my joints are gonna blow out. Let me sit this one out."

"Okay, Tae-hwan-ssi is excused. The rest of you are in a similar boat?"

Nod, nod—

"Those of you sitting out, train on your own."

"Okay. Hey, you — get over here. Come spot me."

Lee Tae-hwan and a few others peeled off for individual training.

"We'll start with a jog. Stretch first, then we leave in ten minutes."

"How far are we running today?"

At one player's question, Head Coach Kwon Se-hun considered. He swept his gaze once over the remaining players and Ara.

The ones with good stamina stayed. Perfect timing, actually.

Kwon Se-hun locked eyes with the players behind Ara's back.

"Since it's the first day, we'll keep it light — just one hour. Pace of five minutes per kilometer!"

This guy's trying to set the hierarchy straight, huh?

Ugh, even after retiring we still gotta suffer.

Should've sat this one out myself.

How long is that young lady gonna last?

A five-minute pace per kilometer. One hour meant twelve kilometers total. For an ordinary person with zero training, running twelve kilometers in an hour was absurd.

Five-minute pace for an hour? That's doable. They're really going easy because it's day one, huh?

Of course, none of that applied to Ara in the slightest.

Having swapped into her running shoes, Ara stretched alone. Her legs split cleanly into a perfect straight line.

Insanely flexible.

Those proportions are lethal…

The players stole glances at her while loosening up on their own.

Having a genuinely pretty woman around really does change the whole atmosphere.

A new wind had started blowing through a gym that until now had been nothing but thick and stuffy.

"Alright, players — assemble, please."

Ten minutes had passed. They gathered again on the dedicated running track outside the gym.

"The lead will be Jae-hun-ssi, leader of Invincible Baseball. Jae-hun-ssi."

"Yes."

Kwon Se-hun handed Lee Jae-hun a stopwatch.

"As always, I'll call out the lap count each time we complete a circuit. Manage your pace and run well."

"Got it."

One lap of the track was four hundred meters.

"That's thirty laps total!"

They had to cover thirty laps in one hour.

Beeeep—

With the blast of the whistle, the first training session began.