Chapter 65
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Ninth-Inning Savior
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Pitchers are sensitive creatures who get swept up in the game's atmosphere easily.
Of course, "swept up" doesn't always carry a negative connotation.
If it's a bad vibe, they'd issue consecutive walks or groove pitches that get hammered.
But in a good flow? They often deliver better stuff than usual.
The Angels' pitcher right now feels like the latter—riding a hot streak, sharper than his norm.
"Ball!"
That curve dropping low had wicked break. Most hitters would've let it go.
Yeah, this guy's definitely in the zone.
Time for me to snap him out of it.
"Ball!"
Second pitch's a ball too. Even with momentum, he's avoiding the heart of the plate against me.
Third comes...
The ball leaves his fingertips, tailing outside. Misses by half a ball width...
For a major league bad-ball hitter like me? Plenty hittable.
-Crack!
I leaned into it, poking it lightly. The ball hooks just inside the foul line, sailing over the first baseman's head.
"Foul!"
Not a double—bummer—but it should've cooled his jets a bit.
Of course...
This alone won't cut it.
If the starter were Su-ho sunbae, a complete game might be in play. But Shaun? Dicey. Completions are rare beasts anyway.
Bottom line: today's game exposes Phoenix's dirty secret—the bullpen.
So I need to squeeze every run possible.
Trust the 'pen? Hell no?
Trust what you've gotta trust.
Which means...
Steal. No question.
Especially with Sang-jin sunbae at the dish. Manager Lee Eun-seok ribs him as "dung truck," poking that gut...
But when it's dubbed a "baseball pouch," it packs power.
My steal puts runs in play big-time.
-Tae-hyun, no steals. You get hurt, I'm dead.
Manager said it...
Hasn't woken up yet.
To hoist Phoenix to a title, no holding back.
Rookies lack experience, burn hot, snap easy—fair concern.
But me? Rookie in name only.
40-40 in the majors, remember?
I took my lead. Wide enough to rattle him. Confidence? Overflowing.
He glances over, eyes narrowing.
What're you staring at?
"Foul!"
Pickoff throw, instant.
Temper on this guy.
Popped up, eased into another lead.
Now his brain's churning: run or no?
That's the steal mind game crux.
Reading pickoff or pitch decides it.
Coaches drill it: feet matter, but instinct and baserunning sense seal steals.
I've got both in spades.
And they whispered...
Now.
I exploded toward second.
Ball went to the mitt, not first.
Solid read—but fastball, no break. Gritted teeth, full throttle, slid as she fired.
Ump eyes the bag...
"Safe!"
Fist pumped on reflex.
Up I go—Sang-jin sunbae flashes thumbs-up.
Job done. Ball's in his court for extra bases.
Odds good: hit allowed, free bag to blatant runner.
Not shattered, but composure? Shot.
He winds, fires—grin creeps on my face.
Panicking? Fastball's flat. Sunbae feasts on that.
-Crack!
Sound rattles my skull—I bolt, peeking the fly.
Drops in front of right field.
Far for home.
Pause? Nah—legs churn.
Breath held, sprint. Stomp third hard. Home looms; catcher's set.
Late?
Ball zips in; her glove rockets at my arm.
No out here. Twist back, tuck elbow—delay the tag.
Fingertips kiss plate as glove crushes arm.
Even I'm unsure.
Glance up...
Ump stares...
Arms fly wide: "Safe! Safe!"
"Phew..."
Tension melts—I flop back. Cheers wash over cold dirt. Bliss.
"What the hell! Twisting like a pretzel!"
"Allowed? Cheat!"
"King, Cha Tae-hyun!"
"Cha Tae-hyun! Cha Tae-hyun!"
"Love you eternal, lifetime Phoenix!"
All sweet.
Lifetime Phoenix? Overkill.
"My luck never fails."
Shaun rides batter support to 7 IP, 3 ER gem. Mercenary validated.
Manager claps approval.
Shaun grins, win in sight.
8th bottom, 7-3 lead. 4-run hole from the 2-hole? Tough sledding.
But...
Champagne early?
Vs. Phoenix bullpen.
Plus, Kim Chan-woo up—spring's 2-for-2 dud.
Scarier: Phoenix calls him solid.
Pray season's different...
Grounders? We got 'em.
-Crack!
Huh?
First pitch, Angels hack rips it.
Over my head, clears LF, rockets deep.
-Rooooar!!!
Gone.
"Homers I can't snag..."
...Bullpen's a beast.
Bullpen Chan-woo, pray hard.
Kim ‘Chan-woo’ <- Name screams low skill.
Still, Chan-woo ain't Ji Chan-woo level, right?
Better than diarrhea don't make shit good?
Words too harsh lol.
Kim Chan-woo coughs up a solo homer right away in the 8th—fans gripe, but chuckle.
3-run cushion remains.
Then the next guy's double flips the script.
-Crack!
"Double again! Runner from second scores—safe! Angels claw back one, fanning comeback flames! Game ain't over till it's over!"
Down to 2? Chat erupts in rage.
Shaun watches gutted as tie falls—head drops.
Inning mercifully ends there, but his W vanishes.
"Su-ho... what'd I do wrong?"
Su-ho low: "Lesson learned late, Shaun... Complete it. Trust the 'pen?"
"Then who?"
"Me. And Cha Tae-hyun."
"Damn... crystal now."
Manager eavesdrops, hollow laugh.
"Trades incoming."
Chief coach jolts. Knows the plan, but now? Phoenix shown zip.
Just 3 games deep, midstream.
Playoffs iffy, win-now trades...?
"Slim resume—uppers greenlight?"
Manager steel: "Short sample. But potential screams. Bullpen aside, holes? Seo-coach?"
Seo mutes.
Cold take: not last-place vibes.
Infield? Andy-Tae-hyun, league elite.
Bats? Solid baseline.
Rotation holes? Mercs slot 3-4.
"Chairman backs me heavy. Coaches via him too."
"True."
"My ass on line. Flop? Eat flak, bounce. Anyway... win this?"
Seo nods: "Tae-hyun again..."
Sides switch; Angels' closer Seo Jun-tae mounts rubber—Phoenix sighs heavy.
"Seo here..."
"Zero answer..."
Seo Jun-tae: veteran shield, Angels' endgame rock. Perennial top-3 closer—panic justified.
He delivers:
"Strike—out!"
"Strike—out!"
Two straight K's.
Slider filth?
Can't even flame Jun...
Andy bamboozled—dude's nasty today.
So close... 3-peat!
Tae-hyun God delivers... please...
Fr... Tae-hyun God one blast plz.
Cha Tae-hyun ‘do it’
9th top, two out, one to go—Cha Tae-hyun strides in.
'That monster rook? Aura's real.'
Vets buckle here; he smirks cocky.
Seo grins back.
'Rookies gotta spice it.'
Both amused; dugouts/fans choke on tension.
"Tae-hyun, you're it!"
"Just one block!"
Phoenix prays flip...
"Jun-tae hyung! Jam him!"
"Seo holds!"
Angels cling tie.
Suffocating air—Angels' guardian fires first: inside heater.
Bat unleashes.
-Crack!
Phoenix leaps—foul.
"Foul!"
"Foul?!"
"Replay?"
Grazes pole. First-pitch thump? Seo shrugs.
Foul bombs don't faze guardians.
Fastball ace, but slider grip sneaks in.
Early decider? Waste not on beasts.
Windup—rips arm. Flicks tip like lighter zip.
Smirk rises.
Feels perfect. Unhittable...
Should be...
But Tae-hyun's hack hunts it—traces the wicked bend flawless.
Pulls pristine swing.
-CRAAAAACK!!!!!!!!
Eerie beauty.
"Cha Tae-hyun yanks it! Deep! Left wall! Over! 9th top—Phoenix surges ahead again!"
😭😭 Tae-hyun is literally a god
I was terrified, flipped the table, now I’m crying 😭
Steals, singles, bombs—does it all!
Worship time...
Oh Shin Tae-hyun...
Cha Tae-hyun or 3 losses already fr.
"Wahaha!!! Does exactly what's needed! Insane!"
"How far?! Outside again!"
Tae-hyun flings bat, circles: 1B-2B-3B. Fist high to fans, plates home.
"Cha Tae-hyun! Cha Tae-hyun! Cha Tae-hyun!"
Wave rises—chants thunder.
"Busan Phoe~nix! Busan Phoe~nix! Sky high~ we~ri~se!"
Phoenix anthem fills Angels' yard.
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