War? Festival? (3)
“Hoo…”
The Western All-Stars' number two hitter, Kim Jeonghyeok of the Irons, took a deep breath before stepping into the batter's box.
The two spot feels awkward.
He was usually deployed as the cleanup hitter on his team, so this lineup felt downright strange.
And that guy's even more off.
Even though they'd faced off just days ago, today's Jin Yuha seemed like a completely different person.
It was only natural. He was pitching like one, after all.
Shwooo!
“Ugh.”
Startled by the incoming pitch, Kim Jeonghyeok let out a groan and jerked his body away.
Thwack!
“Ball.”
It was a deep inside pitch.
“Sorry. I told Seungjin the same thing—my control's off today, so watch out.”
Park Cheongwon said it without a hint of actual apology.
“...Still, that's a bit much.”
“He's just a kid. Cut him some slack.”
“Shouldn't the senior give the rookies more guidance?”
“Oh yeah? Want me to guide you first, then, as your senior?”
“...No, sir.”
Kim Jeonghyeok's timid rebellion was quashed in seconds. Park Cheongwon was usually so mild-mannered, but put on that catcher's mask, and he turned into someone else entirely.
This is driving me nuts.
Facing Jin Yuha was always a huge pressure cooker. But.
I didn't need to worry about hit-by-pitches...
His control was elite, and he aggressively attacked the strike zone. Hitters facing him never had to fear a 160km fastball drilling into their ribs—at least, not unless they provoked him like the Dragons had. And yet.
“Now I have to watch for hit-by-pitches too...?”
“What? Got a problem?”
“No, sir.”
And on top of that, the senior catcher breathing down his neck at every word.
Kim Jeonghyeok felt his mentality crumbling.
Thwack!
“Strike!”
Thwack!
“Strike!”
So it was no surprise he fell into an 0-2 count in a flash.
“Time.”
Stepping out of the box, Kim Jeonghyeok tried to clear his jumbled head.
At least his repertoire's simple. That's a relief.
The ace Jin Yuha was mimicking had a famously straightforward arsenal.
Four-seam and curve. He mixed in others, but those were the staples.
So probably.
Shwooo!
Curve!
Sure enough, the putaway pitch was a curve, just as Kim Jeonghyeok predicted.
Bzzz!
His bat exploded forward. A curve was easy game if you saw it coming.
He was certain of victory. Except.
...This is.
Kim Jeonghyeok didn't know that the Titans' immortal ace could control the curve's drop and velocity variance.
Thwack!
“Swinging strike three!”
And that Jin Yuha could do it to a degree as well.
- 136km
The pitch that fanned Kim Jeonghyeok was a sharp power curve in the mid-130s.
* * *
Rhinos manager An Donghwa was convinced.
“That bastard Jeong Hyeonho... he's been living the sweet life all this time.”
Titans manager Jeong Hyeonho, who groaned dramatically with every pitch—turns out he really was just cruising.
“Ah... glasses are done here.”
“Why not keep 'em on a bit longer? They looked pretty good.”
“Too awkward. Can't do more than the first anyway—that was the deal.”
Anyone watching Jin Yuha grumble his way off the mound after a perfect first would think the same.
“If it bugs you, you should've drafted Yuha.”
“What?”
Jeong Hyeonho's response, now coaching in the All-Star Game, was a sight to behold.
“Hey, we were gunning for a championship back then!”
“And did you win?”
“What'd you say, you punk?”
“Nothing. Though I recall some famous manager saying second place is just another form of last.”
“...”
“Oof... but didn't the Rhinos fail to even sniff the playoffs that year? Got bounced early.”
An Donghwa regretted his past kindness—trying to hook Jeong Hyeonho up with a coaching gig when he'd been lamenting job loss.
“But using Yuha feels good, right?”
“...Insanely.”
“These days, our whole coaching staff basically strikes whenever Yuha pitches. I'm practicing spitting out sunflower seeds from afar.”
An Donghwa couldn't easily condemn Jeong Hyeonho. Because.
“I'd probably do the same if I had Jin Yuha starting.”
“Right? But don't get greedy. Yuha's a Titan for life.”
Jeong Hyeonho oozed smug superiority.
“...He's my guy today.”
At least for today, Jin Yuha was his player.
“Kinda ugly, bro.”
Anyway.
* * *
Sim Chando couldn't hide his disappointment. Contrary to his hopes for a serious duel, Jin Yuha seemed to be here just to have fun.
“Makes sense...”
Hard to believe from his stats, but it was Jin Yuha's pro debut year. First All-Star Game, naturally.
He wants to enjoy it. I should've understood that.
However.
Thwack!
“Strike out!”
Understanding and getting pissed off were separate issues.
Crack!
Couldn't take it out on the pitcher Jin Yuha, so.
Bzzz!
“Swinging strike three!”
The batters became the natural outlet for his frustration.
Top of the second. Sim Chando wrapped the inning with another perfect frame.
* * *
Commentator Park Woo-hyuk's bemused chuckle nailed it.
“Shxt...”
Fighters' Victor didn't see it as fortunate at all.
Thwack!
“Strike!”
-162km
The regular Jin Yuha had posted a 0.30 ERA over half a season.
* * *
“Feels better now.”
Three up, three down. Clean as could be.
“...Not a single ball thrown.”
Baek Sangyeon, sprinting in from the outfield, murmured in quiet awe—no balls indeed.
“Threw plenty in the first.”
“You hate chase pitches?”
Hm.
“Not really.”
“Oh?”
“I throw a ton to Edmund, actually.”
“...True.”
The reason he rarely bothered was simple.
“It's the most efficient.”
“Efficient?”
“Whether it's pitch count or racking up outs, attacking the zone aggressively is easiest.”
Of course.
“For me, anyway.”
“...”
Baek Sangyeon went silent at my answer.
“Think there are many pitchers like you in the majors?”
A serious question from a future big-leaguer.
“Dunno. Guys like me? Probably a handful even there.”
Ridiculous question.
Who do you think I am?
. . .
“Gonna hit the locker room quick.”
“Ah... for that?”
“Yeah.”
Truth was, the performance wasn't over yet.
* * *
Top of the third.
Sim Chando had to come down after this inning.
All-Star starters usually went two innings max. With manager picks too, tons of pitchers needed mound time. But.
The Jin Yuha-Sim Chando matchup was massive news, so both managers agreed to let their aces go three.
Crack!
Sim Chando allowed just one hit this frame, still perfect.
Surprisingly, the lone hitter to tag him was none other than.
Baek Jihun.
Not because his costume and antics shocked anyone.
Baek Jihun just owned Sim Chando. One of the KBO's great mysteries.
Anyway. Sim Chando finished with three scoreless, one hit. Jin Yuha followed him to the mound.
The broadcast booth gasped at the camera feed of Jin Yuha's face.
Not his signature blue eyes.
Golden ones. Slit pupils like a reptile's.
* * *
Western All-Stars dugout.
“Eek!!”
Fighters' Victor—who seriously bought into the Jin Yuha reptilian theory—let out a shriek and collapsed.
* * *
Apartment with Han River view.
“Hahaha! Yuha's having a blast out there.”
“Ah, that kid's gonna rile up all the idiots again.”
The MLB legend and his super-agent buddy had polar reactions to their son/nephew's prank.
* * *
Mia's advice hadn't stopped at mimicking a past ace.
- “You're going three innings, so why not tie the last one to your nickname? The team's ace is Yu right now!”
Hence, reptilian. It had surprisingly deep roots.
Dad started it back when he was active...
Back then, it was the “Jin Yusung reptilian theory.”
Dad's unreal stats in an East Asian body had plenty believing it earnestly. Those folks were dense as ever.
In Korea, guys like Victor spread it everywhere. Ah... eyes are dry.
Lenses bugged him more than glasses.
Regression had brought all sorts of experiences.
Tap tap.
Park Cheongwon flashed a sign. Seeing it, I grinned naturally.
Dad and I got called reptilian not for looking scaly. Nah.
Just 'cause to them, we didn't pitch human.
Leaving Dad aside, I threw 100mph-plus with pinpoint breaking stuff. Not unheard of, but as a high school rookie? Impossible.
No wonder the joke stuck for some.
Shwooo!
Anyway. Final inning. Time to give them the show they expected—in spades.
First.
Thwack!
“...Strike!”
Knuckleball. Nice, it's working.
* * *
-Waaaaaaaaa!!
Broadcasters and fans alike marveled at Jin Yuha's show.
But his pitch showcase was just getting started.