Meeting Her Was the Worst (Reboot)
Noh In-seong's fame hadn't grown all that much, even though he'd shattered a record that stood as a milestone of Korean baseball.
He was already someone virtually every baseball fan gritted their teeth over, thanks to countless acts of madness and absurd delinquent behavior on the field.
In other words, his name recognition had long since reached geostationary orbit.
This record-breaking feat had merely attached a new label to it: insane, but genuinely elite.
The next day, the Tigers players waiting in the visitor's dugout locker room before the game looked utterly deflated.
The shock of the previous day's defeat was still fresh. They'd burned through every pitcher and sent every hitter up as a pinch hitter — a total war of attrition.
Even the winners of a game like that feel like dying of exhaustion; the losers lose their will to fight on top of it.
And as if that weren't enough, the record that came out of it all had landed like a finishing blow.
Tigers catcher Joo Ji-hoon, his face on the verge of tears, held up his phone screen for designated hitter Jeong Him-chan to see.
"That lunatic beat me down so bad... look at what people are posting on my SNS today..."
The screen was densely packed with every variety of profanity, along with insults like 'that crazy irasshaimase automatic-door bastard.'
"Cheer up — you're still better off than me. People are posting pictures of a pitching machine and telling the front office to sign it to replace me."
"...You get trash-talked because you can't play defense... At least I put in the work. I never used to get it this bad."
Even in his usual losses he took his licks, but this level of abuse was the kind you'd only earn by putting on a strip show at the ballpark.
"It's because that psycho had to go and break our franchise's record of all things, isn't it?"
"Yeah, probably... *sigh*."
The nightmare from yesterday came flooding back — the two lunatics who had dismantled them so completely.
Oh Yeon-seok, that insane bastard, could tell himself he just hit his batter and ran, and that was the end of it.
But what crime had he committed that he had to manage every single thing that came after? A sigh escaped him unbidden.
That other lunatic, Noh In-seong, had also torn into Oh Yeon-seok endlessly in his interview. More sighs followed.
Inside the organization, internal discipline for Oh Yeon-seok's solo act was already on the table.
'Can we really make a run at October baseball when our own players are at each other's throats?'
Joo Ji-hoon's head was a tangled mess.
And that tangled head found temporary relief when the opposing lineup was posted after warm-ups.
"Hey — that bastard's name isn't in today's lineup!"
Noh In-seong's name was absent from the starting nine.
Like a rotten tooth finally pulled. Like a fish bone wedged between teeth and gum, finally dislodged.
With the madman whose next stunt no one could predict gone from the stadium, color returned to the Tigers players' faces.
Three hours later, the Tigers scraped out a narrow two-run victory.
Having secured themselves the absolution of avoiding a sweep, they boarded the team bus home with smiles on their faces.
The doctor switched off the monitor, apparently to draw the attention of Noh In-seong, who had been watching the sports news with the fascination of a man seeing television for the first time.
"Noh In-seong? Your results are in."
"...Oh. I was watching that."
The current location of a man who cared more about the broadcast than his own body: the hospital.
At the team's medical facility, Noh In-seong was undergoing tests for any injuries he might have suffered the day before.
Entirely independent of Noh In-seong's condition, he'd been benched for the third game against the Tigers on the manager's strong recommendation.
Granted, a troublemaker of In-seong's caliber could have ignored whatever the manager said and taken the field anyway,
but having thoroughly stomped one guy he couldn't stand had sapped his desire to play considerably.
He'd already achieved his goal of showing up on his day off and beating the hell out of the opposition — no lingering attachments remained.
"Look, In-seong, when you get hit by a pitch, it's only common sense to get checked out, don't you think?"
On top of that, Jung Im-taek had long stressed the importance of body maintenance to In-seong — within reasonable limits, anyway.
Jung Im-taek leaned toward the manager-as-caretaker school, and he was borderline paranoid about overworking his pitchers.
Perhaps it was the recoil from a career spent as an overworked bullpen arm himself.
Though lately, his working Kim Jin-hong to the bone had been raising eyebrows among the fans too.
"Goddammit. Then go trade for some pitchers, you worthless front-office bastards!"
'You want me to run a seven-game lead in first place with a bullpen full of these scrubs?! Is that it, you useless sons of bitches?! Is the trade window infinite now?! I don't even see any rumors leaking, which tells me you're not doing your damn jobs!'
Given that sounds like this — accompanied by the crash of things being thrown — could be heard coming from the GM's office lately, it was safe to say he had his own grievances.
So from the manager on down, the club was sensitive about player condition — and a player showing up to work on his scheduled day off had been a sore point for the organization from the start.
'Forget inning limits — let's ban rookie pitchers from throwing over 100 pitches in any appearance without a stat line to show for it.'
'If we grind a rookie into the ground and he gets hurt, it damages the club's image and our future player supply!'
They say hitters and pitchers use different muscle mechanics, but in the end there's only one body.
It might've been forgivable if he'd only been swinging the bat. But seven stolen bases in a single game?
And then, the day after pitching — instead of resting, he starts at shortstop? This absolute lunatic.
"Oh my, forget the game — let's send him to the hospital for a full checkup right now. You never know, right?"
As in: our best pitcher AND hitter is a rookie, so let's manage him carefully from the beginning. Ha ha. That was the general sentiment of the agreement.
And so the results of Noh In-seong's forced medical examination were, in a word, shocking.
"...Nothing seriously wrong. The muscles in his back are just a little startled."
"Huh?"
It came out as lazily as a man thinking, huh, now that you mention it, my back was a bit stiff when I woke up yesterday.
No lingering aftereffects whatsoever. The only finding was that the spot where he'd been hit was bruised.
"So, first of all... uh, apply some pain relief patches, and... yes, the ointment. Don't sleep on your back — sleep on your stomach or your side."
The Doubles' rookie was, absurdly, in perfect health.
Having been pulled from the active roster for his hospital trip, Noh In-seong found himself on a rest day with two options.
Since he was sitting out Sunday's game anyway, he could either laze around and catch the bus to Changwon early Tuesday morning,
or head down to Changwon ahead of the team on Monday night, like he'd done in Busan.
"...Hmm. Last time I went down early, I got an earful of every insult known to man."
The trauma of Busan's charmingly hostile merchants was still lodged in his brain.
Granted, the Busan merchants probably hated In-seong even more, seeing as he'd poked at the trauma of their franchise's situation.
Two consecutive days off, for the first time in ages. The kind of rest you only get during the All-Star break — or if you weren't playing for the national team.
"Oh right, there was rain too. Now that domes are everywhere, I've only gotten back-to-off-days off exactly once."
And even on that day off, he'd gone to film a commercial. An ad where they smashed rice cakes against the screen instead of his face — truly groundbreaking.
"Christ, and they played THAT on the stadium jumbotron..."
His humiliation went nationwide, but thanks to it, the rice cakes themselves became absurdly popular.
Riding the tailwind of an ad so memeable it got photoshopped into videos of things being obliterated,
the tteok had become such a hit you could now find it in major supermarket chains.
When Siyeon came at him with 'Oppa! Your rice cakes showed up in my school lunch! What kind of family disgrace IS this?!' he'd buried his face in his hands.
"This holiday, I'm going to stay quiet, do absolutely nothing, and rest like a normal human being."
So resolved Noh In-seong. It was late afternoon, shortly after his hospital checkup.
Whether that would actually be possible was another question entirely.
"Huh? Hold on — Mr. Song, what are you doing here?"
"...Weren't you off today?"
Song Jin-wook, occupying his position as In-seong's childhood-friend-in-spirit — graduated from long-suffering neighborhood gal pal to soon-to-be wife — had come out for an evening stroll with her.
Players on the same team often found housing near the stadium with their commutes in mind.
And both Noh In-seong and Song Jin-wook were the type to seek out good food on their days off. The overlapping factors piled up.
On top of that, they were on the same phone carrier and had received the same discount coupon. That mattered too.
"...Well, this is a coincidence."
A 50%-off salad bar coupon had lured In-seong out for a quiet solo meal — and Song Jin-wook sat down right next to him.
Eight p.m. Early in the evening, like hot rice cakes off the griddle, two teammates came face to face.
Baseball players generally eat late.
Finish the game, wind down, do your recovery — if you're eating before seven even after a day game, that means you're dining near the stadium.
Or somebody brings boxed meals in, and you slam emergency calories after the final out.
And this salad bar buffet sat a stone's throw from the ballpark.
That was why the two men, having crossed paths the moment their games ended, had both ended up here.
"So, uh... should I be calling you sister-in-law? What's the right way to address you...?"
"Hmm... honestly, there's barely any age gap between you two..."
Jung Soo-jung. Born on a Wednesday, which is why her father named her Soo-jung —
and was promptly smacked on the back by her mother. At least, that was the story as Song Jin-wook told it.
In-seong and Song Jin-wook had shot the breeze about it a few times at the ballpark, but he'd never once believed it.
I mean, who names their kid that carelessly?! Are those people really parents?
Naturally, Song Jin-wook immediately held up a mirror to reality. When it came to careless name-giving, In-seong was no slouch himself.
"Your name is Noh In-seong, you absolute lunatic."
Unable to mock his parents' naming sense without indicting his own, Noh In-seong couldn't even manage a defense.
It was one of the rare occasions he'd been sunk by a single line.
Being a year younger than Song Jin-wook, she was, of course, his same age.
"Just call me Soo-jung, whatever. From what I hear about you, Oppa here gets his kicks kicked in by you all the time anyway."
"Ah, that's just because I kick over every senior and junior alike. Don't take it personally."
...My image is one step from rock bottom here. What is this, Mr. Song.
"Oh no, I don't really push around the older players myself..."
"This from the guy who beat up a ninth-year veteran on the opposing team during a bench-clearing brawl?"
Wow, this person's mouth is getting sharper by the day. How heartless of you. Honestly, I'm a little hurt.
That settles it — I'm observing the next fungo session myself. You've been living too comfortably lately, haven't you? Time to show you what hell looks like.
"But if my sister sees you here, In-seong...?"
"Oh, right! In-seong. My future sister-in-law is about to show up here?"
Please, I'm begging you — just for once, don't do anything thoughtless, and act like a functioning human being.
Song Jin-wook pleaded with him at length. This bastard, seriously?
"...I think I'm starting to get a sense of how you normally see me..."
He couldn't exactly throw a punch right here at the table, so he sat there with his fists trembling.
"Oh, Soo-jung!"
"Unnie!"
Jung Soo-jung — and a woman who looked slightly older — was walking toward them from across the restaurant.
Long hair, casual business attire, laptop bag. Office worker, maybe?
"Ah, we have a guest. Hello, I'm Soo-jung's older sister, Hwa-jeong—"
What the. Why did your face just scrunch up like that. And hey, what's with pointing that index finger at me the second we meet?
"AH! It's Noh In-seong!"
"What's your problem? Why are you pointing fingers at someone you've never met...?!"
"Ahem... shall we, uh, step outside and have a word, just the two of us?"
After calming herself from her brief outburst, Jeong Hwa-jeong made her proposal — and Jung Soo-jung nearly leapt out of her seat.
"I get that it's urgent, but is this really okay? Unnie! Get a grip! You just met—"
"Oh, it's nothing that needs solving! I just have something to say! You two go ahead and eat!"
Hoho. Shall we be off, then?
...The way her mental state is doing somersaults... this one's not exactly sane either, is she?
Following her lead, Noh In-seong climbed up to the Sky Cafe on the building's rooftop.
The Sky Cafe was empty and quiet.
Just as Noh In-seong was ordering coffee in place of his dinner and settling in for a conversation—
"Forget the coffee. I have a favor to ask. Could you please stop disgracing my profession?"
"...What are you talking about? Everything I've done was legitimate self-defense. And why would I do that for you?"
"The kids are imitating you! At school! My stress levels are beyond anything you can imagine!"
Listening to her, it turned out the school ran some quasi-sporting version of baseball for gym class,
and it had apparently morphed into something shockingly violent.
"They're pelting each other with rubber balls! The second anything rubs them the wrong way, out comes a beanball, and then they're brawling!"
She'd broken it up countless times, but as the incidents kept coming, the parents got chewed out, the vice principal got chewed out, the principal got chewed out.
And recently, one kid had even lost a front tooth (a baby tooth, but still).
Really? The kids are copying me? That's news to me.
"...So?"
"...I beg your pardon?"
"I mean — so what? How is that my fault?"
To a man from a primitive age who'd thrown dodgeballs at faces back in his school days, hearing all this meant precisely nothing.
Truth be told, the very first memory that surfaced in his mind was of him hurling a dodgeball at somebody's face.
Save your breath for someone who actually listens to reason.
"If kids get hurt copying something, isn't that just the fault of the parents and teachers who failed to control it?"
That's your responsibility. Blaming me for it now — are you out of your mind?
"Then die."
"Hk—?!"
OW! My hair! What is WRONG with this woman, grabbing me the moment we meet—!!
"Die, you walking source of my stress!"
Son of a— Song Jin-wook said you were going to be my sister-in-law, but it turns out you're my executioner?!
No way in hell was she winning. He grabbed her hair back.
"KYAAAH! My hair! How DARE you grab a woman's hair! Let go this instant!"
"You grabbed and yanked MINE first, so this is self-defense! So what if I did?! You letting go?! You wanna go bald, keep it up!"
With their hands buried in each other's hair, the two of them gritted their teeth, tearing and clawing, each trying to out-maul the other — trying, sincerely, to kill one another.
His first impression of the schoolteacher Jeong Hwa-jeong was, in a word, the worst.