Sajik's Savior: A Perfect First Inning
Sajik's savior owned the first inning. A clean three up, three down with a strikeout thrown in for good measure. He'd only needed seven pitches. But was he not satisfied even with that?
"Today's a perfect game for sure. Stay focused."
"…Huh???"
Catcher Jeong Hayoung blinked at Han Jimin, who muttered it under his breath like a solemn vow. A perfect game—a record that had never happened in the KBO, not even in exhibitions.
A perfect game...? It seems impossible, but if my husband says so, I have to give it my all.
Jeong Hayoung steeled herself with renewed determination. Truth be told, a perfect game wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility.
Thwack!!!
"Strike!!!"
"……What the hell is this speed?"
Gasps erupted from the stands. Jimin's pitches were no joke.
* * *
"Jimin-ah—!"
"Han Jimin!!! Han Jimin!!! Han Jimin!!!"
"Han Jimin! Marry me!!!"
As he stepped down from the mound, fans screamed his name from every direction. It wasn't his first time, but the thrill felt fresh. The cheers for an athlete hit different from the attention he'd gotten as an actor or singer. For one, every single pitch drew visible, fiery reactions from the crowd—intense and passionate.
They say Busan folks are crazy for baseball... now I get the vibe.
Of course, if you sucked at it, that passion turned into a disadvantage fast. But right now, it was the perfect fuel. And today, he couldn't afford to slack off anyway. Not with the quest on the line—he had to focus. Missing that skill upgrade card would sting too much.
The batter was the Landers' cleanup hitter, Baek Harim. A lefty power bat with a big frame and ridiculous swing strength.
Crack!
Unlike the earlier hitters, if she connected clean, it'd be extra bases for sure. Assuming she made contact, that is.
The announcer gasped at the radar gun reading. In the KBO, even four-seamers rarely hit 150 kph, let alone a breaking ball like a slider. At that speed, it was basically a missile.
As the booth said, even in an exhibition after just two innings, Minions fans were hoarse from chanting Jimin's name. His crisp pitching had them hooked.
The internet was buzzing. His Ultimate Baseball skills were proven, but that was variety TV. Pro ball was a different beast. Still, expectations were high—a guy who'd shut out pro teams there should snag at least 15 wins in the league, fans said.
But...
He'd probed the zone in the first two innings, now targeting the nastiest corner, a half-ball off the plate.
"Nice ball!"
As he left the mound, veteran Bae Chaewon went to smack his ass like the others—but froze.
"Who's next? Guaranteed hit this time? You guys aren't embarrassed in front of the rookie?!"
She yelled at the incoming players instead. Looked like she'd forgotten he was a guy mid-swing. Whatever—hot noonas could smack away. Bae Chaewon... eh, pass.
His duel with Landers starter Alicia stayed scoreless through six. She'd allowed four hits; he'd allowed zero baserunners.
Against leadoff hitter Yoo Areum, he fired a 157 kph four-seam right down the pipe.
Thwack!!!
He gave blinking Jeong Hayoung a quick thumbs-up. That pitch was meant high; a mistake. Luckily, Yoo Areum watched it go.
She's gun-shy on 150+ heat.
Then...
Inside two-seam. Then a paced four-seam to close it.
"Phew..."
Yoo Areum trudged off; Baek Seoyeon's plate appearance followed. Landers bench flashed signs frantically—dying to score late.
But.
Crack!
The low splitter kissed the bat and dribbled toward him. He snagged it, fired to first. Easy 1-2. Away fans sighed.
Baseball's the top sport here, huh...
KBO popularity dwarfed his old world's. Ten million attendance? They hit that in the first half alone. Wild part: national team games still bowed to soccer. World Cup unbeatable, apparently.
Anyway...
Thwack!
157 kph four-seam to the three-hole.
"Strike—!"
Pushing his pitching skill to A grade unlocked 155+ heat. 160 was possible with strain, but control vanished.
Needs more polish.
Won't take forever, but not days either. No biggie—even without 160, most bats...
"Huh?!"
Jeong Hayoung's changeup sign—outside. But the bat met it.
Crack!
Fuck?
He felt it on contact. Hit. Perfect game and no-no gone—left with just shutout and complete game for 1000-2000 IP.
Then—starting shortstop Park Haneul, tense all game, exploded into motion. No-hesitation dive.
"Ngh!"
Impossible grab.
"…Haa."
That was too damn close. No joke.
IP Shop access was a must-have reward, but this wasn't. Still, nailing a perfect game pushed his goals forward big time.
Six outs left. March exhibition, but records were records? Dugout chatter died down.
They felt it too...
But something mattered more.
"Jeong Hayoung."
"Y-Yeah?!"
She scurried over from peeking at him, plopping down like a lapdog. Cow tits, puppy vibes.
"Today's slash line?"
"…0-for-3."
"One PA left. You hit it."
"H-Huh?"
"Miss it, and you're benched a week—no, a month."
She got the innuendo, face crimson, head down. Eyes quaking like an earthquake. She'd just tasted the joys of sex— a month dry would kill her.
But no choice. Bottom seven, still 0-0. No-no and perfect needed a win. Tie game ending 0-0?
I'd come out.
Exhibition for conditioning—no sense pushing. Even now, they eyed him warily, ready to yank at first hit.
Key was scoring...
Crack!
"Wh-What?!"
"Kyaaaaah!!!"
"Unni! Unni!!!"
Cleanup Bae Chaewon crushed one over the wall. 1-0.
"…Hitting's fine. Calls stay sharp."
Jeong Hayoung nodded grimly. If he held, rewards were his.
Top eight.
Crack!
Baek Harim's rip—Park Haneul spears it with her glove hand. Second-round draft steal last year, defense wizard.
"Out!"
Ump at second pumped his fist; crowd roared in sync. Harim stomped in frustration, hustling back. Star hitter—had to break the perfect somehow. Exhibition or not, pride on the line.
And...
Crack!
Low two-seam. Kim Hana flails instinctively. Bae Chaewon scooped at first, tossed to covering Jimin. He tapped the bag.
The message popped up right on cue. Fans cheering, teammates mobbing—did they think he was overcome by the moment?
"Han Jimin! Han Jimin! Han Jimin!"
Made sense. First perfect in Minions history, official or not.