First Starting Appearance
After watching the Savers take the second game of the opening series, I told Ho-min I was heading out for a quick jog around the neighborhood and left the apartment.
I rode the elevator down and made my way toward the shadowed far end of the parking lot. The Hooded Woman was already there, as if she had been waiting forever, and she greeted me with a bright, open smile.
"Here you go."
"Yes. Thank you."
"Tomorrow. It finally begins, doesn't it?"
"My first start? Yeah."
"How's the condition?"
"Naturally perfect. Feels like this little guy's been handling all the maintenance for me."
I gave the shopping bag she had handed me a light tap as I spoke.
"I'll be watching tomorrow. Now go back inside. Condition management comes first."
"Yes. I will."
She waved, turned to leave—and that was when it hit me.
"Huh?"
A faint floral scent drifted past.
"Hey—wait a second."
The fragrance tickled the tip of my nose and left me blank for a heartbeat. By the time I called after her, it was already too late. Just like every other time, I couldn't catch her.
She melted into the darkness in an instant. I sprinted after her, but she had already vanished somewhere beyond reach.
"What the hell… it's the same?"
It was identical to the scent I had caught from announcer Han Song-yi a few days earlier. A rose-like floral note—subtle, yet somehow burned into memory with startling force.
"What on earth is this…"
I finally understood why meeting Han Song-yi that day had felt so strangely familiar. It must have been the memory of this same scent on the Hooded Woman.
But how could two completely different women smell exactly the same…
"They just use the same perfume. Anything else doesn't make sense."
Body scent theories and other nonsense weren't worth a second of thought.
"Still… weird as hell."
Every time I met the Hooded Woman, my head ended up scrambled.
"Condition?"
Tuesday. The first words out of Manager Park Donghoon's mouth the moment I arrived at the stadium.
"Best possible."
"Good."
"What about the seal?"
"The seal? Ah—that? Obviously it's off."
"I could keep hiding it a little longer."
"No need. Other pitches maybe, but that one? Even if they know it's coming, they still can't hit it. Just don't overdo it."
"Yes, sir!"
I had no intention of overdoing it either. More than anything, the knuckleball was only for the occasional surprise strike.
There was also the old talk that the knuckleball's different mechanics could mess with other pitches. Since I had zero desire to become a pure knuckleball specialist, there was no reason to throw it enough to create problems.
I warmed up with a run, loosened the shoulder with long tosses, then checked today's ball feel in the bullpen. From that, Ko Mandeok and I settled on the game plan.
"Four-seam and splitter are locked in today."
"Slider and curve?"
"Those are solid too. Early innings we lean on the splitter. Once we've gone through the order once, bring in the slider and curve. Mix the knuckle in between."
"Sounds good."
"And hey—what about this?"
"What?"
Ko Mandeok shoved his face right into mine. At that uncomfortably close range, his eyes were pure mischief.
"Hello, baseball fans. Today we bring you Game 1 of the series between the Mirae Savers and the KY Jaguars live from Jamsil."
"The Savers send out Kang Hajin as their starter. The Jaguars counter with Lee Chan-dong. How do you see it?"
"Lee Chan-dong spent last season as the Jaguars' fifth starter, building experience. Being named the third starter this year means his stuff has clearly leveled up and the team trusts him."
"Exactly."
"Kang Hajin, on the other hand, is making his professional starting debut. Inside the Savers organization, the consensus is that he could step in as the number-one ace right now without any drop-off."
"Is that so? The stuff he showed in exhibition games was already pretty terrifying, wasn't it?"
"It was. He'd work hitters with upper-140s to 150 km/h four-seams and off-speed, then, the moment runners got on, he'd dial it up to 155 km/h heaters to escape trouble. That tells you he's already managing his energy like a true starter."
"Manager Park Donghoon of the Savers promised Kang would show something that would shock everyone this year—said he had something huge prepared. Have you heard anything?"
"I've heard the same talk, but I couldn't dig up the exact details. Word is we'll see it today, so I'm genuinely looking forward to it."
I had to stand on the mound and sit through the pre-game ceremonies.
When I came out of the bullpen as a reliever, I just walked up and threw. As a starter, all this pageantry was waiting for me.
Honestly? Boring as hell. Just sing the national anthem already…
I fought off a yawn, got through the anthem, and then the ceremonial first-pitch thrower came out.
Someone said she was a member of a girl group. I had no idea who she was. Just in case, I gave a discreet sniff. No floral scent.
She struck every dramatic pose imaginable, launched a stylish Arirang ball, then hopped around in pure delight.
Finally—my time. A few practice pitches and I was ready.
Ko Mandeok straightened his upper body and flashed the sign. Full-power four-seam, just barely catching the inside edge of the zone.
How much did this guy trust my command…? Every sign he gave me was that detailed.
I used to think he always called pitches that way. Later I found out he only did it with me. For everyone else it was just rough directions—inside, outside, up, down. And even that, apparently, didn't always work.
"Heh. Well, if he wants it there, I'll put it there."
Not perfect, but throw five and three of them usually land exactly where I want. That single skill had been how I made my living, after all.
"Kang Hajin has the sign. First pitch of his starting debut against leadoff hitter Jo Jung-geun of the Jaguars! Oh! Right out of the gate—incredible! A 155 km/h four-seam rockets into the batter's hands!"
"You simply cannot hit that. Put a heater there at that velocity and the hitter doesn't even think about swinging. And this is the very first pitch of the first at-bat? Before the batter can even adjust—155 on the hands? There's no answer for that."
"What a first impression as a starter. Kang Hajin."
Ko Mandeok gave a big, satisfied nod and fired the ball back.
The heavy thump into the glove said everything about how good he felt.
Then the second sign.
"Already?"
Ko Mandeok wanted the seal broken right now.
"Okay. Fine by me. No point hoarding it till it turns into crap."
"Sign set. Pitcher ready. Windup—second pitch. Wait—?"
"Ah! Ah! Right now! This is it! This is what Kang Hajin prepared all season! The knuckleball!"
"Wow—slow-motion replay coming up. Zero rotation. What do you make of it?"
"That's the real deal. A proper knuckleball. Viewers at home can see the flutter. That dancing pitch suddenly drops off the table at the end. The batter is completely helpless. A swing-and-miss was the only possible result."
"And Ko Mandeok handles it cleanly."
"You can only imagine how hard these two worked in the off-season… Outstanding. Kang Hajin and Ko Mandeok."
The batter stepped out of the box and said something to Ko Mandeok. Then he shook his head hard, looked up at the sky, and let out a long sigh.
Probably asked if that was really a knuckleball. When he got the confirmation, the frustration hit. Still—no need to sigh that dramatically where everyone could see it.
"Stri~ke! Batter out!"
I finished him off easily with a fastball that missed by about a ball's width.
The Jaguars' dugout was buzzing. The reason, of course, was the knuckleball that had appeared out of nowhere.
"A knuckleball… Jung-geun. How was it?"
Manager Seo Jang-ho of the Jaguars asked Jo Jung-geun, who had just returned to the dugout with a slightly shell-shocked look.
"I couldn't hit that. How are you supposed to hit something that just drops right in front of you? And it's not like every knuckleball drops the same way either."
"That good? The quality's that high?"
"I've faced a few knuckleballers before. Among every one I've seen, that was the best."
"Hah… He was already a nightmare with just his regular arsenal, and now he adds a knuckleball…"
Manager Seo let out a hollow laugh of pure disbelief. The pitching coach beside him spoke up.
"But will he really throw it that often? Unless he's a pure knuckleball specialist, it's hard to lean on heavily. And his other pitches aren't exactly weak. Stick to the original plan."
That plan had been to sit on the slider. They had prepared for it in practice.
"True enough. Damn. The real monsters really are monsters."
Right then, Kim Tae-sung came back after grounding out to first on a slider that ran away from him.
"Weren't you sitting on the slider?"
"…Yes."
"Haa…"
I retired the second hitter, Kim Tae-sung, on two pitches with a groundout and turned to face the next batter.
The Jaguars' new foreign import this year—Pedro Garcia.
Mexican, with a decent amount of big-league time under his belt.
From the scouting report Ho-min had put together, he wasn't just a pure power guy. His specialty was refined contact. But because the raw strength was already there, even his easy swings produced a surprising number of home runs. In the minors, of course.
"Time to start? Heh."
Ko Mandeok's first sign was a knuckleball right out of the gate. I nodded calmly and set my fingers on the ball inside the glove.
The thing Ko Mandeok had suggested earlier with those mischievous eyes—it was time to begin.
The ball floated up, dancing and fluttering, then at the last moment broke hard to the left—straight into the hands of the left-handed Garcia.
Tick.
It just kissed the bottom of the bat and dropped to the dirt. Close… If it had fallen a fraction earlier, I could have ended it on one pitch.
Ko Mandeok took the new ball from the umpire, tossed it back to me, and put down the next sign. Another knuckleball.
"Heh. This is fun."
Again the ball floated and danced. This time it simply dropped, pulling a clean swing-and-miss from Garcia.
"He said finish him with three knuckleballs…"
Surprisingly, Ko Mandeok's next call was a splitter. He set the mitt low, demanding a full drop.
I jammed the ball between my fingers and drove it. The pitch raced toward the outer half, then broke.
Garcia's bat followed it partway and then froze.
The instant Ko Mandeok caught it, he pointed straight at the third-base umpire without hesitation.
The call: ball. The ump ruled the bat hadn't gone around.
"Tch. Close."
Ko Mandeok tossed the dirt-scuffed ball aside, took a fresh one, and put down the next sign. Knuckleball again. A little off-script, but apparently we were still going for the three-knuckle finish.
"One ball, two strikes. Kang Hajin prepares his fourth pitch."
"Hmm… I'm very curious what these two will choose here."
"What do you think?"
"They've shown two knuckleballs and a splitter, so maybe now they show pure power… but who knows…"
"Kang Hajin sets. Will he bring the heat, or something else… Fourth pitch!! Oh!"
"Knuckle. It's another knuckle."
"Ball running away outside! Garcia swings through it! Strikeout! Kang Hajin freezes Garcia with three knuckleballs!"
"What a bold call. In a two-strike count they went right back to a knuckleball that could easily miss. That only works if the catcher is completely confident he can handle it."
"Exactly. Kang Hajin finishes the first inning of his starting debut perfectly and walks off the mound."
The start was good. And that good momentum carried straight through the second and third innings.