Savior of Sajik
"This year is different. No, it has to be different."
That's the mantra Busan Minions fans live by these days. Even Lily, the famous Minions fanatic, mutters something similar every single day. The phrase captures the raw, heartfelt passion of Minions supporters for baseball.
Seeing their reactions, Rozelaine tilted her head slightly.
"Shouldn't it be a lot different?"
Anyway. Just as I'd promised Seo Juah, to claim not just a championship but etch my name in KBO history and rack up IP, I had to perform. No question about it.
Especially now that joining the Minions had blasted me into the media spotlight. It was giving the company a real headache. Amid the chaos of Foxy's massive success leaving them no time to breathe, I'd gone and pulled this stunt—debuting as a pro athlete. They were stuck managing my image in a field totally unrelated to them.
Minions fans were notoriously intense, infamous for their obsessive love of baseball. The company was freaking out over the thought of me getting trashed online or tarnishing my rep.
"Male players always draw extra attention."
"Hm... probably because the hype around them isn't just about skill."
"The team might not have scouted with that intent. But you're different."
"......"
"You've got ace-level talent that could shine beyond the KBO, even in MLB. So loosen up a bit more."
"......"
I hadn't even considered the majors. Still, I nodded at Rozelaine's words and stretched diligently.
As I'd seen in the Hyundai Tigers game, my pitching had skyrocketed thanks to my A-rank pitching skill. Only Rozelaine, my personal coach, knew the full extent.
"Good. Stretch a little more, then let's do some pitching practice. Today, let's check your fastball instead of the two-seamer."
"Got it, Coach."
Back when she started Pro Baseball, she'd wanted to hurl the ball herself. But after meeting me, she got hooked on coaching.
Anyway. Five days until the Minions' spring camp. I needed to make a killer impression on the manager and teammates.
It's my job, and the contract's on the line too.
To reap those perks, I'd have to prove myself with results.
"......"
New Minions manager Madison Brooks groaned low as he scanned the reports.
He already knew the team had languished in the league basement for years. Still, he'd taken the job thanks to a conglomerate's fierce baseball ambitions and Busan's inexplicable fanaticism for the sport.
"What a mess."
The reports painted a picture of utter disaster. The pitching staff was the worst offender. Their one reliable mercenary from last year had bolted, and the starters expected to anchor rotations 3 and 4 had crumbled. The bullpen? Don't even get started. Last year's Minions relievers were league-worst nightmare fuel.
Granted, they might've improved, but it was still a massive headache for the team.
Separately, there was one oddball standout.
"Han Jimin."
The famous producer and actor from this country. At first, Brooks figured they'd signed the ridiculously handsome guy for jersey sales. But watching him pitch changed everything.
A lefty firing 150 km/h—with pinpoint control. Brooks slotted him for the No. 2 starter spot on sight. He'd have loved No. 1, but the kid was a rookie debuting this year.
The lineup led by cleanup hitter Bae Chaewon looked promising enough in hitting, at least—that was the team's lone strength. Defense? Whole other story. They played worse than a U.S. college squad. The infield was a ghost town.
My first spring camp with a baseball team was chaotic—a lot chaotic. But it felt oddly like military training, so adapting wasn't tough.
Plus, as a rare male or touted prospect, teammates subtly looked out for me. I even had "Perfect Man" fans, signing autographs quietly in the early days.
Anyway...
Thwack!
"Nice ball!"
My 150 km/h two-seamer slams into the catcher's mitt. Jeong Hayoung, 25. My new "wife" behind the plate. Her bat was nonexistent, but in a catcher corps with zero options who could handle my stuff, she got the nod.
The team seemed to plan building her hitting while leveraging her glove. Good luck with that.
Anyway, her mitt hid it, but she had massive tits. And...
"Solid pitch. Wanna throw a few more?"
"Sure."
True to her assets, her vibe was soft and easygoing. The Minions treated me like fragile china anyway. Seo Juah's conglomerate pressure helped, but being a male player loomed large.
Of course, their worries were for nothing...
"Hngh! Nngh!"
I was straight-up banging women in my dorm. Jeong Hye-ryeong and Rozelaine, the stars of the show.
Hye-ryeong as my manager, Rozelaine as personal coach—they came and went freely. Overkill perks for a rookie, sure, but my background made it happen.
"Shortstop looks like it'll go to that rookie girl."
Rozelaine murmured, her thighs pillowing my head in that cozy milf embrace.
My trainer, but needing to train together, she'd snagged temp coach status. Assigned as the baby pitcher coach. Sudden roll-in, but her past as a top-tier ace earned quiet respect from players.
"Ah, the ponytail kid? Park Haneul, right?"
Righty hitter and thrower. No. 2 overall pick last draft, elite infielder. Great glove, wheels too. Nitpick? Petite chest. Cute face, team investing heavy.
"...But her taking short? That's a stretch."
"No bodies available."
"Whoa."
Even for hopeless Busan Minions, shoving a fresh draftee into starting short was wild.
"You're young too, y'know."
"...Right."
True. I was twenty. Just a year older than the newbies.
"Though nothing young about this monster."
Rozelaine's lust-glazed eyes drifted sideways. There, Jeong Hye-ryeong bobbed her head furiously, lavishing my cock.
FYI, Hye-ryeong tagging along to camp left Chaeyeon unnie home alone.
"Catcher locked for Jeong Hayoung?"
"Only one who can handle your stuff. Starter gig goes elsewhere, but she'll be your personal battery."
"Hm..."
Lily had nailed it. They really sucked at baseball. I'd thought it was fan griping about their losers...
Who knows.
We'll figure it out.
My baseball knowledge came from Pro Baseball and novels. No clue how to handle this.
Just pitch well?
No KBO experience, but my A-rank skills should carve some legacy.
I dove into camp training, grinding to peak for the season.
Fall baseball ended with fans buried in "nothing works" despair. But camp's start flipped the script—jersey sales skyrocketed pre-season. Han Jimin's No. 9 flew off shelves; team shops struggled to restock.
I tossed lightly in intrasquad scrimmages to check form, then declared off-limits for camp games.
Public opinion twisted weirdly, stressing the PR team. But I was fine. Catchers just couldn't handle my pitches.
"Whew..."
Minions starter Oh Yesul, 32. Sweat dripped from her face after snagging one.
My expression stiffened too. Fastballs okay-ish, but changeups? Straight to the dirt.
"Tch... this ain't working."
"Pair Jimin with Hayoung as his personal catcher then."
"Sucks for her bat tho..."
"Can't stick him with a dropper like that."
"...Understood."
The head coach, who'd pushed hard for me-Yesul, backed off stone-faced at Madison Brooks' icy tone.
"Take care of me."
"You got it."
Thus, Jeong Hayoung locked in as my battery. Bat or no, only she corralled 150+ heat.
With my catcher set, my debut slotted for the March 9 exhibition vs. Incheon Landers.
Two days prior, I invited Hayoung to my dorm. To strategize opponent breakdowns.