Chapter 81
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Is It Really Okay to Air This Interview? (1)
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"I'm sorry."
"Yeah. I didn't really want to make a fuss about it originally, but you answered so rudely that I got worked up. Still, let's live with basic human courtesy. We're all in the same industry, after all."
"Yes, sir."
I figured if I pushed back any harder, I'd be in for a nonstop lecture from the dorm supervisor, so the next day, I apologized to Gu Jin-mo right away. Deep down, I wanted to smash his head with a bat, but that wasn't an option. Better for me to bend a little.
"Good. Let's show some manners from now on. Tsk. Get out of here."
Some assholes are just assholes no matter what, huh?
'Mr. Hornsby, any ideas on how to take him down?'
'Fight him.'
'Come on, he's an adult. What, we gonna fistfight?'
'That guy's the one who beat the crap out of the stalker.'
'That's different. That was a crime.'
Come to think of it, what happened to that stalker anyway? Jo-eun said he hasn't been seen lately. Looked like So-young handled it well.
'Anyway, isn't there some way?'
'Plenty of ways to mess up a first baseman.'
'Like what?'
'You know this as an infielder, but infielders always risk colliding with a full-speed runner. Sometimes the fielder gets hurt, sometimes the runner. Just body-check him.'
'Ugh, too risky. Pass.'
'Tsk, modern baseball's lost its romance. Back in my day, we'd shatter shins with spikes. Even at home plate—runners and catchers risking life and limb for one run. That's baseball. When did it turn into this girly sport...'
In the majors, after a runner's murderous tackle shattered someone's leg, hard slides targeting fielders got banned. Hornsby seemed genuinely bummed about it.
'If that were still allowed, I'd teach you every trick. What a shame. Tsk tsk.'
'But that's got nothing to do with first basemen.'
'True. Anyway, on an infield grounder in a close play, just knee him in the nuts.'
'Tsk. Doubt that'll come up.'
Even if it did, it wasn't happening now. Gu Jin-mo was a key guy on the national team—we couldn't afford to lose a hitter like him. Our team already struggled against the US, Japan, even Central American countries. Dropping someone of his caliber? No way.
'This is my first national team call-up, so I wanna win it all. Gotta wait till the season.'
'Heh, was hoping for some fun, but oh well.'
'Can't be helped. If something comes up during the season, give me the heads-up.'
'Don't worry. It's my specialty.'
Revenge would have to wait. National team mattered too. Flopping in my debut tournament? Embarrassing.
"Hey! Did Jin-mo hyung chew you out?"
"Oh, Seung-cheol hyung."
Joo Seung-cheol approached me—probably saw the scolding. Similar age, both hitters, and we'd gotten friendly since joining the team. Turns out he knew a bunch of celebrities too.
'Wasn't that your main goal?'
'Yeah. But is it just for me? Good for you too, right Mr. Hornsby?'
'Who said otherwise? Keep grinding, punk.'
Anyway, good personality, famous—why not be friends?
"Jin-mo's not usually like that. Anyway, hang in there."
"Nah, I deserved it. Even for a walk-off homer, the celebration was a bit much."
"He chewed you out for that? Didn't peg him for it."
"Thanks for the encouragement."
"Athletes get chewed out and do the chewing. Oh! You watch YouTube?"
"Who doesn't these days?"
Sure, mostly lookbooks, but yeah.
"Yo, subscribe to this channel then. Hit like on everything too."
Joo Seung-cheol shoved his phone at me. Screen showed "[Jia's Baseball YouTube!]" with a profile pic: brown hair, cute turtle-head face—total babe.
"What's this? Whoa... fuck, she's gorgeous. I'd devour her. Hyung, who's this? Know her?"
"...My little sister."
"...Sorry."
Fuck. Now that he mentioned it, they kinda looked alike.
"Ha, ha. It's fine, whatever. You didn't know. But say that again, and you're dead."
Chilling glare. But forgiving me this much? Gotta be grateful. Nice guy, like I said.
"Sorry, hyung."
"Nah, happens."
"Won't happen again."
"Kid, we're not that close anyway. My sister's been whining about stagnant subs, so she begged me to promote. Uh... just don't hit subscribe."
"Sorry. Subbing and liking right now."
I whipped out my phone lightning-fast, subscribed, and liked every video.
'Thumbnails say baseball YouTuber? Hot. How old? Oh, 20th birthday mukbang booze fest? One year younger. Saving that for later.'
"Uh... made it awkward trying to promote. Anyway, keep it up. And don't avoid me. I hate awkward vibes over stuff like this."
Good family, good personality, handsome, great at baseball. Environment that breeds niceness. I'd have decked him.
"Really sorry, hyung."
"Yeah, yeah. Good luck."
Thought I was screwed. Wiping sweat, heading to the cafeteria—another voice called me.
"Whoa, hyung, thought he was gonna kill you yesterday."
Jang Woo-joo. When'd this guy show up?
"What?"
"Yesterday in the showers. Was heading out, but vibe was too tense. Couldn't move. How'd you stand up to Gu Jin-mo sunbaenim like that?"
"Guts? Fuck. Even sunbaes gotta talk sense or I ain't listening."
"Oof. He told me he'd kill anyone chatting him up in the shower? You know you were kinda boomer yesterday, right?"
This punk picking a fight now?
"Same thing? You like dudes yapping at you buck naked?"
"Th-that's 'cause you're showering! Ridiculous."
"Look at this backtalk. You pick fights with sunbaes?"
"Whoa! Now you're flipping it."
"Back in my day, we didn't step on sunbae shadows. Lucky you. High school junior? You'd be toast. For real."
"...Hypocrite much? Our team's lax on discipline, but you're the biggest boomer of the sunbaes."
"Shut up with that nonsense. Scram."
I booted Jang Woo-joo's ass and headed to the cafeteria. Boomer? Me? Freest guy around.
"Alright, Jang Woo-joo and Ji Maeng-ho. Say hello to the baseball fans."
"Hello! I'm Jang Woo-joo, future Tigers pitcher. Thrilled to meet you!"
"Hello. Ji Maeng-ho of the AT Thunderbirds."
All practice games done, primary national team training wrapping up—MBS showed for coverage. Plenty of interviews before, but going on TV? Heart raced.
'That the real reason? Or 'cause you're excited to fuck?'
'Heh, you know me too well, Mr. Hornsby.'
Truth was, today was vacation—first in ages. Three days to drain all the pent-up load from spring camp. Dick already twitching.
'Not 'cause of the announcer?'
'That too. Haven't seen a girl in forever—horny as fuck.'
"Hello! Baseball Night viewers. I'm announcer Kim Hee-yeon! Nice to see you! Wow!"
'Kim Hee-yeon. Name noted.'
Sports announcer face—decent. Haven't stripped her mentally, but those tits looked full and perky.
"Clap clap clap! Am I the only one clapping?"
"Woo!"
Clap clap clap—we joined in, and Kim Hee-yeon finally kicked off.
"You two are so handsome and dashing. With scrimmages between national and pro teams airing sporadically, bet lots recognize you now. Sinking in?"
"Ha, dunno."
"And you, Ji Maeng-ho?"
"Haven't stepped outside, so no clue."
"Ah... haha. Right, makes sense. Shows how intense training was. Okay, let's interview Jang Woo-joo first. Thoughts on making the national team?"
"It's like a dream. The national team..."
Half-listening to Jang Woo-joo, I eyed the reporter's body.
'Hmm. C-cups? Wanna fuck those tits raw. Slim ankles. Ah, wanna strip her... Sigh, no dice? Mr. Hornsby, no hypnosis or anything?'
'What bullshit is that?'
'Cartoons—ghosts hypnotize, possess, rip clothes with wind. You know.'
Explained kid cartoon ghost powers; Hornsby sounded exasperated.
'Moron? If I had that, why'd I coach baseball? You're nuts.'
'Still, it'd be nice. Why so useless?'
'You monkey! I'd just teach pitches, fix swings, share experience—what's wrong with you!'
'Useless in reality. No possession or x-ray vision?'
'Bitch. If possession, I'd have ditched your body first. Be grateful I don't. And if I had physical power, I'd have ripped you apart on sight.'
'Fine, no possession. X-ray? Peek at panties, nudes!'
'Not happy with killer baseball?'
'What nonsense. Baseball's baseball. This is this. Weren't you all "baseball's sacred" pre-contract? Now changing tunes.'
'...My fault you're deranged. Sorry.'
Suddenly sorry? Hornsby's time's up.
'What do you do when you're not visible?'
Over a year together, never asked.
'Heh, peep on girls. Panties under skirts, shower peeks. Your dorm was prime—lotsa skirts. Heh heh.'
Keeping that gem secret? Betrayal.
'...Traitor.'
'Traitor's you hogging that girl.'
'Ahem. Anyway. Oh! Seen any upskirt flashes?'
Brainwave hit. Why no think of this sooner?
'Sadly, no.'
'Tell me if you spot one! I'll bolt.'
Not everyone's like Hyun-ah loving outdoor play, but someone's gotta be. Hornsby calls, I sprint! Ugh, thinking Hyun-ah—dick stirring.
'Why's volleyball season so long? Anyway, crash dorm this break. Oh! Reporter's skirted—panties color?'
'Red.'
'Red? Bold. Planning to fuck tonight? ...When'd you see?'
'Since she walked in.'
'No wonder you vanished earlier. Didn't tell me? Real traitor.'
'Shut up, idiot.'
Always curses when out of comebacks.
"...Maeng-ho?"
"Yes?"
"Oh, your turn, but no answer. It's fine— we'll edit."
"Sorry. Sometimes I zone into baseball and miss sounds."
"For real? Woo-joo, your take?"
"Hyung spaces out like that sometimes. Always says baseball thoughts. Oh! He rooms with Ki-sang sunbaenim—same story from him."
"Ooh! Close with Maeng-ho?"
"Yeah, team maknae. But he's total boomer!"
"Shut it."
Whispered to Jang Woo-joo, eyed reporter—she looked puzzled.
"What'd Maeng-ho say?"
"Haha, nothing. Right, Woo-joo?"
"Hyung told me...! Ow! Hitting me. Air this. For real."
"Hahaha, you two are tight. Maknaes, huh?"
"Whoa, not just... "
"Yeah, we're close. Ha, ha, ha."
"Alright, proper Maeng-ho interview. Ready?"
"Yes."
After, I answered her questions earnestly.
"PD-nim, sure we can air this?"
"Why not? Fun. Got character. Unique kid. Interviews and articles are wild—caught a stalker too. Lost parents young, devoted to baseball: impressive. Cocky too. Star quality."
"Airing as-is then."