Chapter 29
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Blue Dragon Tournament (4)
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“Swing strike! Out!!”
Ah, fuck. That slider dropped like a curveball.
“Nice, pitcher!”
Yongin Internet High School's starting pitcher, Park Ji-hwan, unleashed a slider on a full count that drifted further to my right before dropping sharply—a real knee-bucker that felt like at least 140 km/h.
'Even after I told you, you whiff? What an idiot.'
'Mr. Hornsby should've explained it better!'
'That's what you get for fucking around like a monkey every day. Heh, suits a little yellow monkey like you, though.'
'What...? You enjoyed it too, Mr. Hornsby.'
Fuck. A swing-and-miss strikeout. First time since I started playing in games. I'd never whiffed unless the pitcher botched their control—throwing the opposite of the catcher's call or a breaking ball hanging in the zone. Getting swung on like this had my blood boiling a bit.
“Nice swing. Park Ji-hwan's slider is tough the first time you see it. Still, solid cut.”
“Nah, I should've done better...”
“No hitter gets a hit every at-bat. Baseball favors pitchers by design. Just crush it next time. Even one-for-three is a win for the batter, right?”
“Still...”
“Shake it off and get ready for D.”
Pat pat. The hitting coach clapped my shoulder. Guess he noticed the team anchor looking pissed.
“Yeah. I'll shut 'em down for nine today, so give me one big rip. Got it?”
Today's starter, Won-ho, gave me a pep too.
Blue Dragon Tournament round of 16. Golden Lion champs Korean Physical Education High School versus powerhouse one-two punch title contenders Yongin Internet High School—it was a pure pitchers' duel.
Seoul first-round lock Kim Won-ho and Park Ji-hwan, two super high school aces—neither team's bats could touch 'em.
'Sigh. Not enough practice? Yeah, I've been spending a bit more time with Hye-jin noona and Hyun-ah lately.'
'Not practice—lack of talent. I spoon-feed you pitch type and location, and you whiff? Monkeys, man.'
'Damn it! How do you not swing through a slider breaking like that? First time seeing it!'
First at-bat was two outs, runner on second—they walked me IB. First real look at Park Ji-hwan's stuff. And that slider? Saved it for the end—brand new pitch. Never faced a slider that sharp before.
'Never seen it? Weird. I definitely have—in my experience.'
Sure enough, Hornsby's memories held sliders with that angle.
'Velocity's different! That fucker's slider clocks 140!'
But nothing that sharp and fast. Modern game's leveled up from 100 years ago—Hornsby's bag of tricks couldn't cover everything. Plus, new breakers didn't exist back then.
His era: big breakers were slow, fast ones flat as fastballs. Curve aside, off-speed then vs. now? Night and day.
Fastballs were fine—faced Walter Johnson and Satchel Paige topping 100 MPH. But breakers? Amateur arms got by on what I knew... until real modern heat.
'Knowing the pitch doesn't excuse whiffing a 140 heater? Monkey like you probably can't anyway. Heh heh.'
'Okay. Next AB.'
Ugh. Hornsby's jab reignited my cooled temper.
“Why's Maeng-ho hyung's eyes like that?”
“Check that glare.”
I ignored the whispers, strode to the dirt.
Thwack! Pop!
“Out!”
“Nice second!”
“Hyung, great D.”
Pop!
“Whoa! Ji Maeng-ho diving what?!”
“Hyung owned today?”
“One left—focus!”
Crack!
“Mine! Get outta the way!”
“Second! Second!”
“Nice!”
Weirdly, Yongin Internet High's bottom three all came my way. Handled 'em easy.
“Damn, second inning D was fire. Thought it'd sneak through.”
“Ball found grass.”
“Still snagged it.”
Heading to the dugout, Won-ho showed thanks. Routine plays—no biggie. He was stoked ending the frame on five pitches, but that grin faded quick.
Park Ji-hwan matched: ten pitches, our top fourth shut down. Fourth, fifth—zeroes save one error-runner. Pitchers' duel dragged on.
Then top sixth, one out, no runners. My AB again.
“Ji Maeng-ho! Ji Maeng-ho!”
“Launch it!”
'Mr. Hornsby. Help me out again.'
'Tch. Can you hit it if I tell ya?'
'Saw it once. I got this.'
Still shaky. But he'd save the slider too. If it comes, two-strike chase. No count leverage? Ignore it.
'Four-seam.'
Four-seam? Manageable. Erased the slider memory, locked onto fastball timing.
Crack!
“Argh!”
Too quick. Fuck. Monster foul homer over the stands. Gargantuan foul bomb. Power matched his—no doubt. But slider ghost made me swing heater-early; bat flew fast.
“Whoa, that exit velo's brutal. Maeng-ho hyung still rips like a beast?”
Yongin Internet High's catcher spoke up. Chilled watching it fly, brushed his mitt.
“Tsk. Gimme better shit. We had fun in middle school.”
The guy eyeing Yongin's catcher—Kim Hyun-seong, my middle school junior one year behind. Teammates during my peak; idolized me. (Repeat year now—same grade.)
“Nah. Gotta get drafted too. Hyung's a lock for first or second round—ease up.”
“Eat shit.”
“Prickly.”
Hyun-seong tossed to the pitcher, sat.
'Four-seam, way outside.'
Way tailing off? Rattled by the foul bomb? Hornsby's call—I picked my spot. Park wound up, fired.
Pop!
Bit close, but outside for sure. Good take, Ji Maeng-ho!
“Strike!”
“Huh?!”
“It's in. Arguing now?”
“No, no. Looked away.”
“Step in closer then.”
“Haha, hyung missing calls. L.”
Brat. Tempted to smash the ump's skull with my bat—swallowed it.
'Good discipline. Fighting umps hurts the player.'
Even batshit Hornsby preached ump peace. He was right. Poking the bear? My loss. No overturns—why make waves?
Fucking prick! Cursed inside, moved on.
'Slider. Mitt dipped low.'
'Got it.'
Two strikes, obvious bait timing. No idiot batter chases zone there.
“Ball.”
Yongin batter no fool—textbook lure.
'Slider. Mitt flashed outside.'
Fuck. Ump generous outside? Lay off wrong, disaster. Choked up slight, mindset to bail—locked in.
'Here it comes!'
Drifting wider—I pulled hips, extended arms. Human greed hit; wrist-pushed it flat on contact.
Thwack!
Clean connect—ball soared high. Tsk. Pushed too much?
“Right field!”
Ball stayed fair, carrying deep.
'Sigh, shouldn't have swung. Fuck. Just tip it foul.'
Loosely tossed bat, trudged to first.
“Right! Right!”
'Idiot! Run!'
'Huh?'
Head down, Hornsby yelled run. Flew far-ish, but RF glove job. Slow floater—even midders glove it.
No harm listening—touched first, gunned to second.
'Never mind. No need.'
'Eh, caught?'
Glanced RF—frozen at wall, glove up.
'Nah, gone. Barely.'
“What?!”
First base ump circled arms—homer signal. What? It cleared? How?
'Monkey swings clear walls. Nah, you're an orangutan now, you little ape.'
“Ha, fuck. Mokdong sucks. That clears?”
Pierced dugout cheers—Park Ji-hwan's mutter. I was stunned; imagine him. Grin stuck. Slow jog third, plate.
“Whoa, hyung. Power's insane. For real.”
“Yo. Slider breaks nasty but light. Forearm work like hyung. Tell your pitcher.”
“Ha, showboat.”
Clapped Hyun-seong's shoulder—mask tucked aside, hand on hip. High-fived on-deck, dugout-bound. Teammates (save next hitter) waited like chicks for momma bird.
“What, this?”
Shut mouths, grinned wide.
“Wooooah!”
“Hyung, how'd you clear it?!”
“Sunbae-nim, straight fire! Real talk. Wooow...”
-Anyone watching Blue Dragon just now?
Ji Maeng-ho what the fuck? Just nudged it and it clears? Seoul farm? First round shot?
Gif?
That guy's kinda famous?
It's Mokdong, fucker
-Gif of that thing I mentioned earlier
(Roughly nudges it over Mokdong wall gif)
Judge for yourselves.
Whoa, just nudged and gone. Thought Stanton?
This fucker who? Lololol that cleared?
Opposing pitcher Park Ji-hwan from Yongin? That fucker's Hancheol first-round too
Seoul farm trash. Popping up every year? Farm-hype scrubs fucking up
Why shitpost in high school gal? Fuck off to team gal
As expected from hyped arms Kim Won-ho and Park Ji-hwan, low-scoring duel. Hanchego advances to quarters off Ji Maeng-ho's homer, toppling Yongin's elite one-two. Golden Lion repeat, now Blue Dragon sweep?
Ji Maeng-ho—that Golden Lion MVP guy?
Won-ho bulking nice. Our first-round lock. Hope no overuse—injury history worries.
Silla passing on Won-ho? No way?
Nope. Park Ji-hwan solid too—younger, clean injury slate.
Still, eats 150s, hit 157 lately—matches Won-ho?
Ji Maeng-ho first-round shot?
We might grab him. An Si-hwon retiring soon—generational shift fine. Honestly, Won-ho or meh.
Mokdong but pushed that swing over. Famous in high school? Want him on our squad.
Golden Lion MVP—got buzz. Injury repeat risky, but Seoul trio watching? HS stats: .500+ AVG, record HRs lol
If Seoul passes, we'd take. Down to second round?
Seoul pitcher haul historic—likely slides. Won-ho, Ji-hwan, Han Young-jun, Kim Ju-cheol. All elite talk. Congrats Falcons Maeng-ho ^^
Thanks lol Last year sucked, glad he lands Falcons.
v2 // Pretend last-place last year lololol 10 yrs second picks where???? Disband for KBO growth lolol Volcano players want it lolololol
AT mark troll again. Ignore aggro.
Team last 8/10 yrs vs 20 yrs no playoffs beefing funny lol Charlotte fans? 40 yrs no regular season 1st?
That guy's not Hyeonseong fan. Monday aggros wild
“Team Leader Hong. Saw Baseball Park? Ji Maeng-ho blowing up.”
“Yes, Director. I did.”
AT Thunderbirds scout team leader Hong Hyun-cheol nodded. Baseball Park—Korea's top baseball community—High School Baseball Gallery, Thunderbirds' Lightning Yard fan site: goldmines sometimes.
“Homer off Park Ji-hwan too. Real potential. Right, Team Leader Hong?”
“Yes. Mokdong or not, no tech swing clears that easy.”
“Exactly. Let's develop him. Righty masher. Can't slug with scrubs forever. Miss a boom like that? The backlash... Exciting, no?”
“...Understood.”
'Fuck, Director-types obsessed with their necks tank AT. Scout polls, parachute eyes! Then wonder no playoffs! Pitchers precious—why bat-hunt? Baseball's pitcher game!'
Hong swallowed retorts, nodded out of the director's office.
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