Chapter 22
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Cheon So-young (2)
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“Haa. How can a scouting team be this pathetic?”
Cheon So-young, the young operations team leader of the AT Thunderbirds and the cherished princess of the AT Group, let out a deep sigh as soon as she closed the file.
The documents she had been reviewing were submissions ahead of the upcoming first-round draft—a draft that would shape the team for the next decade. Yet, the file on the most crucial player was missing.
“Tch. Idiots. No wonder the team’s short on talent when you pick players with those eyes.”
So-young shook her head and clicked her tongue in disapproval.
“How do you even recommend players whose potential doesn’t exceed 35?”
In her eyes, she wanted to fire the entire scouting team for listing these trash-tier players as first-round candidates.
So-young was special. Sure, being born a woman in the male-dominated Cheon family was special enough, but when it came to baseball, she was even more extraordinary. Ever since she’d touched some weird trash at a World Series game with her grandfather as a kid, she could see baseball players’ values right before her eyes.
‘Grandpa! The Cardinals won!’
‘This is their first title since 1982.’
‘Really? That’s longer than our team!’
‘Yep. With so many teams in the majors, it takes time to win, So-young.’
‘Whoa! Someone threw trash there! I’ll pick it up. Eek!’
‘So-young! So-young! What’s wrong with her all of a sudden? Manager Kim! Manager Kim!’
‘Chairman!’
Even thinking back now sent chills down her spine. The memory of that day—the old ghost floating around and whispering about a contract—still haunted her. She avoided even stepping foot in the St. Louis area when traveling to the States.
‘Ugh, it was horrifying.’
After that day, whenever she wanted, she could see players’ stats and values in scouting report format. The downside was she had to see them in person, but she’d already checked nearly every high school player in Seoul by touring weekend league games and the Golden Lion Tournament. That made the scouting team’s report even more infuriating.
So-young flipped the offending documents face-down and leaned back in her chair, massaging her temples. The sudden flashback had given her a throbbing headache.
“Haa. I never should’ve touched that thing.”
In exchange for her ability to see baseball players’ stats, she’d lost something. Ghosts had become visible after touching that trash. To a nine-year-old girl, ghosts were terrifying. Naturally, her family had freaked out.
They’d even taken her to a psychiatrist for seeing ghosts, but they kept appearing. Only after getting an amulet from a shaman did they stop. Though the ghosts vanished, the incident tarnished her image, derailing her path to inheriting other affiliates.
Her grandfather and uncles adored her, but appointing someone with a mental health history as CEO was too risky. All that was left was the baseball team—Chairman Cheon’s hobby. It was low-stakes, and since So-young loved watching games with him, the family elders deemed it a perfect fit.
The chairman was thrilled to gift his precious granddaughter a subsidiary, so So-young had no real grounds to object and took over the AT Thunderbirds.
Luckily, the side gig she’d started at twenty was making decent money, so she wasn’t too dissatisfied. Still, she regretted not proving her capabilities to her grandfather.
“I could do so well if given the chance…”
Last year, fresh out of college, she’d been an operations team member. This year, team leader. In a few years, she’d aim for CEO.
“Anyway, just wait till I become CEO. I’ll clean house.”
Even so, So-young and the Thunderbirds suited each other well. She’d been a diehard fan since childhood, thanks to her grandfather. Plus, her seemingly useless ability in society was a godsend in baseball.
Last year, as just a team member, she couldn’t overhaul the roster. But now, as operations team leader, she was in a prime position. In modern baseball organizations, the operations leader wielded more influence than the CEO, who mostly just signed off.
She’d gradually reshape the team from operations, and as CEO, lead this perennial loser—who hadn’t made the playoffs in twenty years—to a championship. That was her plan.
“They only gave me the Thunderbirds now, but if I deliver results here, Dad and my uncles will see me differently. Then the succession...”
No one in the family saw her as heir material yet. But turning around the Thunderbirds—a failure for all executives—could change that. And...
“I wish Grandpa could wake up to see the Thunderbirds win...”
She longed to gift a championship to the man she loved and respected most, lying in his hospital bed. Baseball was his lifelong passion; it had to help his recovery.
“Which means this draft is crucial. These morons.”
Her furious expression bore no resemblance to the icy beauty from moments ago.
*Knock knock.*
As she stewed in her curses, a knock echoed. So-young quickly composed herself, reverting to her usual businesslike chill.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and a man entered.
“Ma’am, preparations are ready.”
Tensing under her frosty gaze, he delivered his message: the first-round draft meeting. Crucial, as next year’s full draft would change everything.
“Got it. Let’s go.”
Aware of its weight, So-young steeled herself and headed to the conference room. The operations team, scouts, GM, and front office were already seated.
“Operations Team Leader Cheon So-young.”
The GM and execs didn’t mind her being last. She was future CEO—perhaps the one they most needed to impress.
“With Team Leader Cheon here, let’s begin.”
Lights dimmed, and the projector lit the screen. Even in the dark, everyone focused intently—no one here underestimated this meeting.
“Hello. I’m Scout Team Leader Hong Hyun-cheol.”
“Skip the formalities. Get to the point.”
Hong nodded at the GM’s words and gestured. The slide advanced—concise, as So-young had suggested last year to cut pointless dragging.
“First candidate: Kim Won-ho from Korean Physical Education High School. 193 cm, 83 kg, right-handed pitcher. Top speed hit 154 km/h at the Golden Lion Tournament; average 148. Two-seam fastball in the 140s, slider primary, occasional splitter for three pitches. Control is top-tier in high school ball.”
“Chance Silla passes on him?”
“None right now. He repeated a year due to injury, but he stepped up after. Tommy John’s barely surgery these days anyway.”
Since Tommy John recoveries had led to busts-turned-stars or MLB call-ups, scouts avoided filtering for it.
Everyone mentally scratched Kim off; they knew the drill.
‘Only pitcher with 30/55 potential. Shame. Won’t drop to round two, will he?’
So-young erased his name from her mind too.
“Even if Silla skips, Hancheol would snag him.”
“Of all times, we draw third pick. Tch.”
“Next: Park Ji-hwan, pitcher from Yongsan Internet High. 191 cm, 90 kg. Confirmed 150 km/h past 100 pitches last tourney. Average 142-144, top 153. Diverse breaking balls a plus; sinker slider drops big.”
‘Haa. 30/40. Solid player, but... not enough. Not nearly.’
With each pitcher named, So-young’s sighs deepened. No one over 35 potential until the last.
“...That’s all.”
As the list ended, So-young sighed inwardly and grabbed the mic.
“Operations Team Leader Cheon So-young. No Ji Maeng-ho from Hanchego on the list?”
Ji Maeng-ho—the only player who’d stunned her upon seeing his stats personally. She couldn’t help it; an unknown had KBA-unheard-of potential.
‘35/80, right?’
In MLB scouting, 80 was top 0.1% talent—a generational star, one or two per era. Her eyes calibrated to MLB, not KBA. A future bomber.
She wanted to fire the scouts blind to him. She’d braced for his absence on paper, but no mention here boiled her blood.
His current stats would play in the first team too. Her eyes rated 50 as average MLB, 45 weak-team starter, 40 AAA-plus but MLB fringe—like import foreigners. 30-35 was solid KBA average.
‘And they can’t spot that?’
“Ah, Ji Maeng-ho from Hanchego. Golden Lion MVP.”
“Yes.”
“Team Leader, our list are prospects we’ve tracked since first year. Ji didn’t play then or sophomore year—just one hot tourney. Internally, we see fluke risk.”
“He’s 188 cm, late 80s kg, and you call it fluke?”
“Haha, you haven’t played, so maybe... Baseball isn’t just physical.”
The scout leader grinned affably, but underneath lurked player-vet condescension: Parachute’s got opinions? Just observe.
“Ooh, Hong’s got guts talking to Team Leader Cheon like that.”
“Facts are facts.”
Ignoring the whispers, So-young pressed on.
“I get it. But isn’t Ji worth listing? Golden Lion MVP.”
“Haha, even batting title guys bounce between minors and get cut. Pros have all seen ‘MVP.’ Our farm has Kang Joo-hyun—three-tourney MVP king: Lion, Blue Dragon, Phoenix. How’s he doing? Stuck in AA.”
“Unlike Kang, Ji’s got the physique. And already ten homers...”
“That’s what I mean—not just physique. Records matter over time, not one flash.”
“Awards, build, stats—what do you look at then?”
“Haha, swing mechanics for hitters. Ji pulls too much—poor bat control. Uppercut swing chasing homers; won’t fit Jamsil.”
‘Idiot. Ji’s power tool is 55/80.’
55/80 matched last year’s homer king Choi Jin-cheol; full potential rivaled MLB monsters like Stanton or Judge.
“Plus injury history. Ji repeated after a major car wreck—pins in right shoulder and thigh. How do you first-round a guy with shaky limbs?”
Every word was laughable. Her eyes clocked his shoulder (Arm Strength: shoulder power; for fielders, split power/accuracy) at 55/60—MLB level.
‘And speed’s 80/80—MLB elite already!’
Speed’s core: first-to-base time. Her game timings put Ji at 3.98 seconds—Trout tier. His edge: MLB-ready physique with room to grow power.
“Know Ji hits first in 3.98 seconds?”
“We didn’t time that far... But injury risk means no all-out sprints every AB. A 190 cm frame at that speed? Reinjury waiting. We need gritty guys hustling every play.”
Old-school grit talk made her head throb. Grit this, eyes that!
“Middle school shortstop, now second base. Post-injury athletic drop. That’s our take.”
“Haa. Based on what? Position switch?”
“...Yes.”
“Do medicals then! Check his condition.”
So-young was exasperated. Ji’s physique wasn’t normal Asian—MLB rarity.
‘These blind fools! Gem right here!’
“Pre-draft medicals violate rules. You know that, right?”
“No! Draft him first, then medical!”
The room blinked at this fiery So-young, so unlike her icy rep. It stung Hong’s pride—thirty years in baseball, losing to a parachute? No way.
“Risking our next decade or two on that gamble?”
“It’s no gamble... Ji’s physique isn’t Asian-normal!”
“Hahaha. Sure, he’s model-built, handsome too. Ah, unless...!”
Picking for looks? So-young wasn’t dense—she’d graduated Seoul National University, brains on point.
“Hong! You joking? I want a ballplayer, not a model!”
“Haha, we’ll grab Ji around second round, three-ish. Injuries might drop him—if he holds till draft!”
Her face flushed, voice rising; his matched.
“Now, now.”
The GM, top dog here, intervened as tempers flared.
“Both team leaders care for the team—I get it. Cheon, Hong’s passionate; don’t hold grudges. Hong, cool it—we’re teammates.”
“Sorry.”
“......”
Tension eased with Hong’s apology.
“GM, your thoughts?”
So-young wasn’t done.
“What?”
“First pick. What do you think?”
“Haha, first meeting—let’s chill. I lean pitcher. Jamsil’s our huge home park.”
“...Fine. I’ll write a Ji report myself.”
“You?”
“Yes. Decide after reviewing it.”
“Ah, well. Sure.”
So-young said her piece and left. A few operations staff followed; baseball vets remained.
“Haa. A woman who’s never played talking big.”
“Tell me about it.”
“GM! Don’t indulge her. Thunderbirds is our team. Chairman’s kin or not, no ruining it!”
“Hong, simmer—ops staff’s here?”
“Kim Moon-hyun, you siding with them?”
“Nah, senior. Would I?”
“Hong, cut ops leader slack. CEO-in-waiting.”
“Will I even last?”
“Play nice so you do. Home team’s best, right?”
“...Yeah. Whole career at AT.”
“Exactly. Treat her like Chairman. She wants success too.”
“Success my ass. Just fangirling a cute face. Uniforms’ll sell, at least.”
“If ops pushes it, we go that way. This club’s his toy anyway...”
“Why we’ve bombed playoffs twenty years?”
“Calm down. I’m pissed too. Face facts.”
While the holdouts gossiped, So-young had fired up her car, heading to Hanchego.