Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Ha Seo-jin’s daily routine was simple.
He would eat what was essentially both breakfast and lunch while reviewing the previous day’s game.
How the pitchers threw, how he should approach them next time, how his condition felt—things like that.
Once he finished reviewing, he would jog to the stadium to warm up.
His house was only 2 km away from the ballpark.
He had already lived there for over five years, choosing it simply because it made commuting easy.
“Ha Seo-jin, fighting!”
If a fan recognized him along the way, he would take a photo and give an autograph before continuing.
After arriving at the stadium, he would head straight to the training room.
Up to that point, nothing had changed from last year.
“Hello, sunbaenim.”
“Yeah.”
At some point, someone started arriving at the training room before Ha Seo-jin.
But it didn’t bother him.
He returned Park Si-woo’s greeting and began his workout as usual.
Park Si-woo also focused on his own training without paying much attention to Ha Seo-jin.
The training room was filled with nothing but music until one loud player showed up.
“Good afternoon! Si-woo, did you eat?”
As soon as Song Min-seok arrived, the room instantly became noisy.
It got a bit louder, but not to the point of discomfort.
Park Si-woo and Song Min-seok naturally helped each other with their workouts, and even when they talked, it was mostly about baseball.
The problem wasn’t the two of them.
More players kept coming in, and it started to feel unclear whether they were there to train or just chat.
Eventually, Ha Seo-jin stepped off the equipment, cooled himself with cold water, and returned.
When he came back to grab his things, a group of players had gathered in one corner of the room.
He wasn’t interested and was about to leave, but someone’s words made him stop.
“A knuckleballer doesn’t have to work that hard, right? Must be nice. I wish I could stop working out too—”
“Hey.”
“…Yes, sunbaenim.”
“If you came to work out, there’s equipment over there. Use it. Otherwise, get out.”
“…Yes. I’m sorry.”
Not just the one who spoke, but everyone near Park Si-woo scattered, watching Ha Seo-jin carefully.
Park Si-woo gave a subtle look of thanks, and Ha Seo-jin nodded slightly before leaving the room.
Outside, fresh air greeted him.
But perhaps because of what just happened, his mood didn’t improve.
Not everyone was like that, but there were always people who called their own success skill and others’ success luck.
They said Park Si-woo didn’t need to train much?
If they really believed a pitch like that could be achieved without effort, he wanted to tell them to quit baseball immediately.
But he held back.
He didn’t want to get deeply involved with this team anymore.
“...Tsk.”
That incident was just one of many reasons, but once again, he found himself disliking this team.
The team atmosphere was undeniably great.
The Gwangju Wolves were a championship contender, yet they had already taken two wins against them.
The first game was his complete-game shutout, and the second was won thanks to Gale’s six scoreless innings, securing the series.
“The elbow angle needs to be a bit tighter…”
“Gale, what are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m studying how to make my pitching motion more similar to yours.”
“I see.”
Yeah, right.
There was no way that would work, and even if it did, it would be useless unless they stayed teammates forever.
Why would he try to change a pitching form that was already working well?
“I’m joking.”
“Yeah, I figured. Still, you scared me a bit.”
“Hm. But if you lift your leg a bit more, it might actually look similar. What do you think?”
“This is a joke too, right?”
“No?”
Right after saying that, Gale burst into laughter and admitted it was obviously a joke.
Still, being able to joke like that showed just how good the team atmosphere was.
Seven straight wins since opening day.
It was hard to believe this was the same team that finished last place the previous season.
So losing a game like today wasn’t a big deal.
“Waaaaaa!”
The cheers of the Wolves’ away fans echoed through the stadium.
It was a home run that completely swung the game in their favor.
It had been a difficult game from the start.
Lee Dong-hoon allowed three runs in the first inning.
He managed to stabilize afterward and pitched scorelessly through the fifth, but the relievers that followed kept giving up runs.
Even if the offense had come alive, it might have been different, but scoring only two runs wasn’t enough to catch up.
They ended up losing 11–2, and the winning streak came to an end.
Still, losing didn’t change the fact that they were in first place.
But this game clearly showed why the Marines had finished last the previous year.
If the starter couldn’t go at least six innings, there was no one to bridge the game to the bullpen.
Even today, Lee Gun-woo pitched decently, but by then, the momentum was already gone.
Aside from Park Hyun-woo and Park Jung-won, there weren’t many reliable bullpen arms.
And it wasn’t like the offense scored a lot either.
Their average was under four runs per game.
With a weak bullpen and limited scoring, every game felt unstable.
Still, if they kept winning, maybe it didn’t matter.
But compared to last year’s Phoenix, the feeling was different.
Phoenix had constantly pushed to maintain first place all season.
The Marines, on the other hand, just seemed to be enjoying the moment.
“Oh, that? Yeah… I think you’re right.”
“…Really?”
Unable to shake the uneasy feeling, he asked Min-seok and got confirmation.
“Our team always struggles to make the postseason, you know that, right?”
“Yes.”
It had already been over ten years since their last postseason.
“It’s not like we’re always bad from the start. We usually hover around fifth place until summer. But when fall gets close, we always drop off.”
“…So it wasn’t just last year?”
“I didn’t experience all of it myself, but it happens a lot. After a while, even if we start strong, everyone just expects it.”
That made sense.
At first, it might seem like coincidence, but when it keeps happening, it starts to feel inevitable.
And eventually, people start believing it.
He knew that feeling all too well.
Like everything bad was his fault.
Like he was the cause of all the misfortune.
At least now, he was better.
And he knew the solution.
“Then we just have to keep winning.”
“…What?”
“If we keep winning, it solves everything.”
So—
“After the shoot tomorrow, can you catch for me? I’m getting restless after a few days off.”
One advantage of the knuckleball was that he could pitch again after just two days without much issue.
Oliver had said it was fine too.
“Already? Isn’t that too much, especially with Phoenix coming up?”
“It’s fine. And it’s not because of that.”
That wasn’t entirely true.
But with the schedule shifting due to rain, Choi Myung-joon’s start had been pushed back.
That meant they might not face each other.
Even without him, there were still things to settle—but for now, pitching came first.
Because in the end, it all came down to him performing well.
“Hey, Si-woo, which one looks better? This one or this one?”
“…Why the helmet?”
“Well, I’m a catcher. I need something for the shoot. This looks better, right?”
…Hyung, who wears a helmet in a photoshoot?
“Best friends battery modeling for the Marines shop!”
Comments exploded online.
“Isn’t this the first time there are two models?”
“I heard Park Si-woo insisted on doing it with Song Min-seok.”
“If he’s got skills and personality, I have no choice but to buy the uniform.”
“My empty wallet is crying already.”
“Stay with the Marines forever.”
“Even that’s too much…”
“You demon lol”
…
“Phoenix takes the first game! Defeats the first-place Marines 6–3!”
“Guess we’re not first anymore…”
“Phoenix is back.”
“You better not talk after losing tomorrow.”
“Why is their third starter a foreign player?”
“Even Oh Kyung-soo pitched well, but the hitters…”
…
“After 7 straight wins, 3 straight losses. What’s wrong with the Marines?”
“It’s only been 10 games…”
“But the problem is obvious. The offense.”
…
In just four days, the sky-high atmosphere had completely cooled.
Losing to the Wolves was understandable.
But Phoenix was another powerhouse.
Back when he was on that team, he didn’t fully realize how strong they were.
Now he did.
Starters went six innings.
Relievers handled their roles perfectly.
Hitters produced when needed.
A team that made the difficult look easy.
And today, the biggest problem stood in front of him.
Choi Myung-joon.
It would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought about it.
But this early in the season, making a move like this was unusual.
Which meant only one thing.
Choi Myung-joon himself had pushed for it.
“Did you have some kind of issue with him?”
Even teammates were asking now.
But strangely, that wasn’t entirely a bad thing.
Focusing on him eased his tension a bit.
This was his first game against his former team.
There were people he didn’t get along with.
And people he respected.
“Hyung, just get me one run.”
“…Me? Uh… I’ll try.”
Even Min-seok hesitated.
That was the kind of pitcher Choi Myung-joon was.
But still—
“So what?”
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah! I’ll show them today!”
Min-seok shouted, lifting the dugout’s energy.
But—
“Hey! Wake up!”
From the very first batter, everything collapsed.
After greeting the Phoenix fans, the game began.
His knuckleball was good today.
Control was stable.
Even Ethan would have been impressed.
The hard knuckleball was even better.
But Park Chan-hyuk, the leadoff hitter, swung at the very first pitch.
A routine grounder.
But it slipped through the second baseman’s legs and rolled into the outfield.
It happens.
Their infield defense was, at best, below average.
Expecting more was his mistake.
So just stay calm—
Crack!
“Stop! Stop!”
The shortstop chased it down but couldn’t make the play.
No outs, runners on first and second.
If the reaction had been just a bit quicker, it might have been different.
But that didn’t matter now.
The only thing that mattered—
The heart of the Phoenix lineup.
Crack!
A high pop-up.
Against a .320 hitter with 20 home runs and 100 RBIs, this was the best possible result.
Fielders converged.
Center fielder, second baseman, right fielder.
But no one caught it.
Bases loaded.
No outs.
And then—
He felt it.
Those familiar eyes.
The looks that said they knew this would happen.
The looks that blamed him for everything.
Especially Choi Myung-joon’s.
The emotions he thought he had left behind came rushing back.
Doubt.
Fear.
Blame.
And just as they always did—
“Si-woo.”
“…Yes.”
Min-seok was already on the mound.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think they’d be this aggressive. Maybe we should’ve pitched more carefully.”
“…Why are you apologizing?”
“Do you really think that?”
“…Yes.”
“Then why do you think it’s your fault?”
“…Hyung.”
“I know. Who else would? It’s not your fault. Our defense messed up. We just got unlucky.”
At his signal, Si-woo glanced over.
The infielders raised their gloves apologetically.
“Catcher, time’s up.”
“Let’s just pitch like usual. When luck’s bad, it’ll turn around eventually. You know that.”
Min-seok stepped off the mound.
Si-woo took a deep breath.
Right.
Maybe his greatest luck wasn’t the knuckleball.
Maybe it was meeting Min-seok.
Having someone who believed in him—that changed everything.
And then he remembered what Oliver once said.
A knuckleball pitcher needs three kinds of luck.
Talent.
Support.
And permission from above.
He had the talent.
He had the support.
But the last one—
He still didn’t fully understand.
But if it really mattered—
Crack!
The ball shot toward third.
Rex fielded it cleanly after a short hop, stepped on third, and fired to second.
The throw to first followed immediately.
The first baseman stretched and caught it.
“Out!”