Teasing the Goddess with Near-Perfection
Shin Harin, the Busan Minions' cleanup hitter, steps up to the plate and grips her bat short. A pro pitching a perfect game against amateurs? Even for a variety show, she can't accept that record.
Complacency? After grounding out in the second, she's swung with playoff focus ever since. But as Senior Bae Chaewon warned, the opponent's pitches are no joke.
Still, it's the eighth now. I can hit it, Shin Harin! The pitcher's gotta be gassed by now. Plus, Han Jimin said this is his first official game.
Crack! A bit high in the zone. Shin Harin swings at the first pitch, aiming for it. She thinks it's slicing past first, but then she sees Bae Chaewon—the Minions' defensive fairy—snag it with a diving catch.
She sprints like hell, but she's out. "Argh!" Shin Harin groans, her mouth dry as if baking bread.
If that had gotten through, it'd shift the game's momentum and let her play baseball with a clear mind... She never imagined the team's legendary senior would block her path.
Watching the next batter strike out too, Minions manager Cha Serin racks her brain from the dugout. We've got one mercenary spot open, right?
This season, Busan Minions signed two pitchers and one right fielder as mercenaries. Right fielder Jessica Monreal claimed the starting spot and they've internally decided to keep her next season too, but she wasn't the ace they hoped for.
The hyped mercenary starter crumbled with 5 wins, 12 losses, and a 4.88 ERA.
And the male player we signed as mascot... In May's Yeongnam Classic series against Daegu Lions, he gave up 11 runs in the first and got yanked, demoted to the minors. Even worse, amid his trash stats, an affair scandal with female fans blew up, earning him the nickname "Affair Minions" all year.
What if we replace that asshole with this guy as a mercenary? Cha Serin's eyes lock on the mound—the lefty hurling near-150km fastballs. A pitcher she'd drag back from hell. And a stunningly handsome amateur with obvious rough edges.
He's radiating insane presence now, but more seasoning here would make him overwhelmingly dominant. Snag a talent like that? Igniting a Minions boom next season wouldn't be a dream.
And if we make playoffs? Just imagining the fans' reactions fills her with bliss.
As Cha Serin gazes at Jimin with hearts in her eyes, Lily in the KBC Phoenix dugout can't contain her pounding heart.
"Ah... ahh..."
Can someone be this overpowering? She figured even the pro-packed Minions lineup would struggle after seeing his practice, but she never dreamed it'd be this miraculous.
This near-first-real-game amateur is on the verge of a perfect game against near-second-string pros.
"Lily, how's it feel?"
"Uh... I'm losing my mind."
She should be thrilled, but as a lifelong Busan fan, she can't. The camera probably baited her with that question.
"Whoa, his arm's still spinning."
"He's really an amateur? First real game?"
"Kid's built solid—stamina too. Ball's still got zip."
KBC players spill out of the dugout, clawing their hair in conversation. They expected a good showing, but no one foresaw this.
The Minions bench is the same. Faces like they're staring down hell itself, one out from a perfect game to an amateur.
And the sixth batter strikes out too.
"Argh, what the hell?!"
"Fuck, why won't it connect?"
Early-game smiles at Han Jimin's face turn to screams on the Busan players.
* * *
A bit tiring. Jimin bolts to the dugout and flops on the bench. Towel over his face, eyes shut—he feels his body throbbing.
Pros aren't easy. His B-rank stamina's scraping bottom. This inning was pure grit, teeth gritted.
Should've paced better... Too much raw power. Even with skill-learned baseball knowledge, first real game means botched stamina management.
Anyway... The dugout vibe's hilarious. Variety show or not, perfect game's got them spooked? No one's approached since the sixth.
Wonder what PD Na's face looks like. Obvious. Freaking out over ratings.
He catches Isojeong's eye for a split second—she whips away, pretending otherwise. First time feeling baseball's unwritten rules firsthand. Weird vibe.
Left alone? Lonelier than expected.
Did I take it too seriously? Variety show feels like a docu now. Though that's the intent...
Whatever. Just pitch his best. Then a fun idea sparks—bonus: it'd wreck Kim Seongchan's mood, slumped in the corner.
"Lily."
"...Y-yes?!"
Lily, staring holes in the ground, jolts up at him. Her tiny flinch draws laughter.
Baseball goddess knows the unwritten rules, but didn't expect him calling. All eyes—and cameras—turn to him.
"If I hit perfect..."
"Eek?! Shh! Shh! Don't say it!"
Lily flails her hands at his words. Adorable—nearly bursts out laughing. But he powers through.
"Anyway, if I do, grant one wish?"
"......"
Pure shoujo baseball manga dialogue.
"Wh-whoa!" Isojeong yelps in shock.
"Eww, chills. Goosebumps everywhere."
Bae Chaewon too. No one saw this coming from him. Cameras pounce on Lily's face.
Amid screams, Lily's face explodes red—a full persimmon. She gulps saliva, lost, as it all beams live.
"Innings switch!"
Perfect timing—their offense ends. Jimin flashes a smile at flustered Lily, then taps her head with his glove.
"I'll hear your answer later."
"Uwaa..."
Lily stares near tears. It's killing him not to crack up, but he holds it, heads to the mound.
And the perfect game?
Crack! The leadoff hitter singles, ending it. Hype kills, unwritten rules exist for a reason.
Still, gains aplenty.
Bigger reward than expected. And...
"No perfect?"
"Still... the best!"
"So you'll grant the wish?"
"Uh... what wish?"
Lily blushes at him. Cameras devour it.
Just teasing, but she's game for anything—he backs off.
"Tell you later."
Can't say what he wants on air. Naturally, Kim Seongchan watching them looks like he chewed shit. Biggest win of the day.
Satisfied, he wraps the game, heads back to BOZ for Foxy's album prep. Checks the girls' practice, meets with Choi Nahee to confirm the main track.
Time flies—it's past seven, dark outside.
"Pitch black."
Winter sun sets fast. Folks eating dinner now, but outside it's midnight.
Hit the pussy house after ages? Choi Nahee's upstairs. Post-baseball babe love has him craving her mature, sensual body—yielding to all demands.
Thoughts brief, action swift. Decides on a hot night with her, opens the studio door.
"Ah...!"
Was she waiting? Lily hesitates right outside.
* * *
At first, she thought he was just a fellow hobbyist. Even cast together on the show, she figured it'd be comfy with a familiar face.
But his glowing back numbers, uniform, and the eyes pouring focus into one ball drew her gaze more.
That was it, though. Like teacher-student, they were just producer-idol.
Ria unnie's... A bit different, but she didn't want to fight members over one guy. No deep emotions anyway.
But post-game, Han Jimin's face won't leave Lily's mind.
Worlds apart from stadium screens or sports stars. His energy and aura—unique to him—captivated her instantly.
That's why...
[If I hit perfect...]
[Grant one wish?]
She couldn't even answer his playful question.
[Tell you later.]
Should've brushed it as variety fluff, but couldn't. Recalling training and shoots, only Jimin fills her head.
Mini-album practice bombed. Already short on reps from filming, but zero focus.
His mound dominance bewitched her like magic.
Practice ends—she bolts to Producer Han Jimin's studio. Might be gone, but lights flicker inside. Lucky.
Pondering her words as the door opens. He's heading out.
She gasps short. He whispers to her:
"Granting that wish?"
Lily nods furiously without thinking.