Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Busan Hwabyung Generator
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The world was fading away. Was this a dream? It had to be. This couldn't be real. The roars around him weren't cheers—they were the furious outrage of Busan citizens raining down like arrows.
Was this really the end? No way! They said the playoffs were a 95% lock! They swore this year would be different!!
[Swing and a miss! Strike three!]
[And that's the ballgame!]
[Well... Our hearts go out to the Busan fans. With this loss, Busan can no longer qualify for the playoffs, no matter what happens in the remaining games.]
[Heh. Twelve straight losses, then a draw, and now four more defeats... Our deepest condolences to the Busan faithful.]
The announcers spoke with what sounded like pity. Condolences? You're not Busan fans. You're from Seoul and Daejeon. Bet you're smirking behind those sympathetic faces.
- disband already!!
- you said this year would be different, you bastards!
- director, get out!
Even on the verge of a full-blown riot, the players gathered casually in the center of the field, like this was routine.
[We'll never forget your support. We'll work harder next year.]
"Hah..."
He was so dumbfounded he couldn't even speak. But he had to say something.
"Y-you moth-er-fu-ck-ers!!"
A roar born of pure fury echoed out, startling even him with its volume. Eight years. Eight goddamn years!! Was this a team? Professional baseball? Just disband! How does it even make sense for a team to have their last championship from the 20th century?!
[Pfft—oh, sorry. Whoa, that was... Yes. One very angry fan there.]
[Cough. Apologies... And with that, we'll wrap up today's broadcast.]
-Snap.
-Thud.
Something snapped in his head, his vision blurred, and then a heavy thud as his breath caught in his throat. Dammit, he still had more to yell at those bastards.
His legs gave out. No, not just his legs—his whole body went limp. Wait, why was the ground rushing up to his eyes?
-Crash!
"Kyaaak!"
"Wh-what? Kid! You okay? Hey, kid!!"
What? Why? Why now?
"Urk... Hack... Ngh..."
"Someone call 119! Anybody, dial 119 now!"
Had he collapsed?
"Sir! Stay with us! Can you hear me?!"
"Ugh... Can't... breathe..."
Where was this? An ambulance? He couldn't catch his breath. His face twisted in pain, but the paramedic's expression brightened a bit.
"Sir! Name, age, any regular meds?"
"Ugh... Can't... breathe... Gah."
"Pardon? Breathing trouble? Here's some oxygen. Put this mask on!"
He sat up a little, hunched over to breathe better. It helped... a bit. He flashed his ID from his wallet to the paramedic.
"Got it, confirmed. Still short of breath? Hard to talk?"
He nodded weakly, and the paramedic's face darkened. He pulled out his phone and dialed.
"Yes, Cheongdae Emergency? This is the paramedic who called earlier. Doesn't seem like simple vasovagal syncope."
-Pardon? The guy who passed out watching baseball? Young guy? Conscious now?
"Yes, but he's complaining of severe shortness of breath—can't even talk properly."
-Shortness of breath? Oxygen on? Sats?
"Oxygen mask on, vitals stable, but sats at 90."
-Roger. ETA?
"Almost there. Five minutes!"
A few minutes passed, but breathing didn't improve. His head throbbed, vision swam, and he closed his eyes.
-Beep! Beep! Beep!
"Wh-what the hell? Sir! Sir! Stay awake!"
-Waaaaaah!!
Sounds blurred together, consciousness fraying, until the ambulance finally stopped at the hospital.
"Patient incoming! Sats down to 80!"
"A zone, stat! Sir! Stay with us! Any meds?"
He tried to answer, but his breath came in gasps.
One spectator collapsed right after the Busan Whales game ended at the stadium—rushed to hospital by ambulance.
Those fucking whale trash bastards
I was cracking up at that asshole in the seats, then boom—guy collapses?
Gal says the whale trash dude was screaming his lungs out and keeled over.
You crazy whale trash fucks, just disband already. Gonna sit there while a fan dies of hwabyung?
Is seat guy okay? Sounded young. Dude, jump ship. This team's hopeless.
Yeah, that passion? Come be an Incheon fan. Busan's a sinking ship anyway.
Seoul trash detected. Not even from here and you're simping for Busan?
Lol, Busan just building apartments, corps fleeing, young folks bailing~ Incheon > whales gtfo
Chungcheong real talk lol. But Daejeon won in the 21st century too ^_^?
So why'd the guy collapse? Not dead, right...?
Probably just blood pressure spike. Young guy—people don't drop that easy.
Follow-up article soon~
Ha-yeon jumped in a taxi to the hospital the moment her parents called about her little brother collapsing. They were at least two hours away, even rushing. She was the only family nearby to act as guardian.
He'd been discharged from the army healthy not long ago, and he'd tag along with their uncle for day labor when cash was tight—tough as nails, body-wise. So why collapse out of nowhere?
Reception directed her to the ICU. Inside his room, six doctors were deep in heated debate.
Her heart sank—had it been that bad? She suited up in sterile gear, masked up, and entered.
[ICU]
"H-hello. Doctors, is my brother okay?"
"Ah... Guardian?"
"Yes, I'm his sister."
"Well... It's complicated to explain. Take a look first?"
"Huh...?"
They'd said he was unconscious, but the sight stopped her cold. What was this? Ventilator... and that bizarre machine beside it?
"Guardian, let me explain. He came in via ambulance after sudden collapse at the ballpark."
Ha-yeon's vision darkened at the doctor's words. Not just stress syncope—his heart function had tanked hard.
They'd hooked him to machines replacing his heart via subclavian and femoral lines because cardiac arrest seemed imminent.
And the cause? Still unknown.
"We'll run more tests. When we took over, his heart was down over 50%—couldn't test properly."
"Tests will find the cause?"
"No infection or issues in bloodwork aside from the heart. A few questions now."
Ha-yeon answered shakily. Discharged three months ago. Medical history? None. Regular meds? None. Pre-existing conditions? None.
"...Does this even make sense? Oh, sorry."
A doctor muttered behind her, then apologized when she glanced back.
"How long does he need that machine? Remove it and he'll wake?"
"Heart function returns, off it goes... But sigh, first case like this for us."
Ha-yeon eyed his badge instinctively. Looked senior. Why...?
[Cardiology Professor]
A full professor. Two more among the group.
"Please... take good care of him, doctor."
"We'll do our best."
-Click. Click.
The team filed out. Ha-yeon gazed at her brother with anxious eyes. Suddenly? Why?
"Mom!"
"Ha-yeon! How's he?"
"H-he'll be fine. Ha-jin's tough."
"ICU out of nowhere..."
"Tests will pinpoint it and treat. Don't worry too much. Insurance squared?"
"Got insurance, but..."
"Food first. You skipped dinner."
Ha-yeon dragged her mom away by the hand. It'll be fine. Has to be.
Three days later, the hospital diagnosed stress cardiomyopathy.
"Also called broken heart syndrome... Extremely rare in young men, delayed diagnosis."
"No threat to life?"
"Yes. ECG shows heart function recovering—we'll remove the machine today. He'll wake soon. Meds and monitor, discharge when stable."
"Phew, thank goodness."
Ha-yeon finally relaxed, exhaling deeply. Once he woke, she'd make him quit baseball. That damn game—why watch if it stresses you to collapse?