Chapter 97

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Translator: Wjin

Chapter: 97

Chapter Title: Extra in a Baseball Novel 97

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'Don't take pictures, they said... but they kept sneaking shots of me with their phones...'

It was info I'd dragged out of Ji-hyun's painful memories. How could trash like that even exist?

Stealth photos too?

Rage boiled up to the top of my head, but it was true that now we had a way to make that scumbag face legal judgment.

They were old stealth shots, sure, but people don't change that easily. That same trash was bound to still have those photos.

...If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he'd deleted them, we'd just find another way.

I was mulling over how to get my hands on Lee Seung-jun's phone when it vibrated.

It was a call from Lee Si-ha.

Makes sense. I'd heard Nixon Baseball, her family's company, was tanking in the stock market right now.

With their promotional model caught up in this mess. Not surprising they'd call eventually.

But the moment I picked up, her voice came through—short, laced with worry.

-You okay?

I'd expected company talk first.

...Sorry about this.

"Of course I'm fine."

-Good. I was worried you might be pretty shaken. Anyway, no need to stress. It'll be sorted soon.

"Sorted soon? You mean my controversy right now?"

-Yeah, that one.

Before I could ask how, Lee Si-ha continued.

-Lee Seung-jun, age 21... height 173cm, current address Hyoksan Dream Green Apartments, Building 116, Unit 301... unemployed, job-hunting with interviews everywhere...

"Wait, hold up. Did that guy dox someone else or drop more bombs?"

A chuckle came through the speaker.

-Money can't solve everything in this world... but it can handle most things, right?

A hollow laugh escaped me.

Half a day, tops, and she'd already dug this up. This was the power of a chaebol heir...

-It's just basic digging for now... Got any helpful info on your end?

"Not certain, but he might have stealth pics of my little sister. To explain why I hit him..."

-Got it. The violence thing makes sense from that. So... his phone's the Achilles' heel. That's plenty. I'll check it out right away.

"How the hell are you gonna—"

-Heh... like I said earlier.

I couldn't help but smirk.

Not only had she pieced it together from a keyword with zero explanation, but that confident tone was rock-solid reliable.

-So don't worry. I've got a path now. Crush the game today, see you later. I'll set the whole stage.

"Thanks, seriously. I was planning to tackle the controversy starting tomorrow after the game."

-No thanks needed. Friends help each other out, right...?

"Yeah, exactly. Lucky me, got a good one."

-Damn right. Who wouldn't help you...? Anyway, next contract with Nixon Baseball too! Call it payback?

"Deal. Don't sweat it—no other company for me."

I laughed as I replied, and her laugh echoed back.

Yeah.

One solid friend in the bag.

'People who never cared before...!'

Shin Ha-yoon bit her lip.

She'd shown her student ID, her face, old Hyoksan High photos, even proof she sat next to Cha Tae-hyun—but nothing.

These weren't folks out for justice against a bad guy. Just people who got off on tearing others down, watching them crash.

Reason wouldn't work on scum like that.

She'd pretty much exhausted her options.

How to turn this around?

Cold logic said time would fix it. No solid evidence, after all.

But... the damage to Cha ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Tae-hyun in the meantime?

Even if it fizzled without proof, this era was full of folks who loved dragging people down.

The "thug" label might stick forever.

As Shin Ha-yoon pondered on camera, the chat lit up, thrilled at her distress, ripping into her more.

"Ah."

She looked up like something hit her, said she'd be back after a quick reset, and ended the stream.

"Right... why didn't I think of that?"

Cha Tae-hyun's homeroom teacher, Lee Mi-yeon—her word would carry way more weight than jealous current students. Teachers don't risk their careers lightly.

'It's a huge ask, though...'

Shin Ha-yoon hesitated, then dialed.

-Ha-yoon? That you?

The teacher's voice was warm after so long, but no time for reunions.

"Teacher, I need your help. I know it's a lot to ask... please, just this once for Tae-hyun."

Viewership on the live topped 100k easy, and on Shin Ha-yoon TV—the hottest topic for reporters—a new notice dropped.

"See? Told you Cha Tae-hyun's trash."

The controversy starter, Lee Seung-jun, cackled as he scrolled.

All he'd dropped was orphanage proof and crocodile tears.

But the unexpected thug drama did the work for him.

'Even without the thug thing, Cha Tae-hyun was done for.'

The siblings were quiet introverts back then, no friends—classic loners.

Lee Seung-jun, a natural agitator since kid days, had no trouble painting them trash.

And the violence? Orphanage kids who didn't know context just bought his story: Cha Tae-hyun the bully.

Bottom line... if this blew up fully, no one left to back Cha Tae-hyun.

"What now, Tae-hyun... huh? No escape in sight."

Fans yapping lawsuits had rattled him a tad, but now? Pure relief. Like the world spun for him.

And luck struck again.

"Holy shit!"

Lee Seung-jun shot up from his chair, yelling.

'Nixon Baseball hires light on specs, everyone try'—that post had him shooting his shot, and it hit.

"No way it actually worked...? Thought I bombed since no one else messaged!"

Tomorrow's interview felt rushed, but sender was legit Nixon Baseball.

"Extra screening, prob why. Anyway... life's turning around? Haha!"

Dopamine flooded him; laughter wouldn't quit.

"Here for the Nixon Baseball interview?"

"Yes."

Lee Seung-jun answered the stunning receptionist.

Quick glance at her chest: name tag read "Lee Si-ha."

'Chaebol perks? Receptionist's model-level hot...'

"This way, please?"

He followed with a dumb grin.

'Interview day, but why so empty...?'

No Nixon logos on entry, and inside dead quiet—fishy.

As he opened his mouth, she stopped.

"Need to verify. Show the pass message?"

"Sure. One sec."

'Don't they usually do ID?'

Weird, but rare chance—he handed over his phone.

She swiped it smoothly.

"Hey... that's my phone."

"No electronics in interviews. I'll hold it."

"Oh... okay."

"Starts when interviewer arrives. Wait here."

"My phone...?"

"Even waiting room—no phones."

'What kinda rule...?'

Grumbling inwardly, he stood.

Then she started tapping his screen like snooping.

Excitement bubbling, he parted lips—but she smirked, opened the door.

"Go in."

"...Okay."

Annoyed, he entered. Saw the interviewer—jaw dropped.

"Brought the chairman."

"C'mon, drop the act? I'm the interviewer anyway."

"Heh... act? I'm the chairman's one and only secretary."

Lee Seung-jun blanked. Chairman? Secretary? Not an interview? MZ trend?

His heart raced.

Impossible, absurd.

But the "interviewer" cozy with the receptionist looked dead ringer for Cha Tae-hyun.

'Nah. Test, right? No way he's here.'

Deep breath, he boomed:

"Hello! Here for Nixon Baseball Marketing—"

"Skip intro."

"...Pardon?"

The Cha-lookalike stood, strode up, hand on his shoulder—icy voice.

"We know each other."

Heart sank. Somehow, it was Cha Tae-hyun.

"No pretending... Seung-jun."

"I... uh, stomach acting up, just a—" Gurk!

Trying to bolt, but Tae-hyun gripped harder—he screamed, slumped.

"Here for interview. Where you going? Sit, Seung-jun."

"You... psycho...! Guh...!"

"Seung-jun. Don't want crippled arms? Shut it."

"O... okay, just— hic...! Tae-hyun, let go... please."

"Finally remembered my name. Felt neglected, Seung-jun."

Huff... huff... "Crazy... fucking lunatic... you know what era this is? Pulling this shit— Grk!"

"Think I'm dumb enough to corner you raw? I know it's nuts. Doing it 'cause I can."

"Wha... what do you— Grk!"

"Tsk... told you not to talk."

'Fucking psycho! Soon as I get out... report this nutjob!'

He glared, vowed inwardly—but Tae-hyun flashed his phone. World went white.

Tae-hyun smirked at the dazed Seung-jun, low voice:

"...Seung-jun, you with me now?"