Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Return
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"Turn it off. It's stressing me out."
Beep.
At his boss's words, Choi Seung-taek switched off the TV.
'I'm jealous. Really jealous. When the hell are we ever going to win?'
"Why the envy?"
Ha Seok-jin, the power analysis team leader for the Busan Sea Gulls, muttered while flipping through some documents.
"Of course I'm jealous. Even the new teams have championship experience now..."
The Busan Sea Gulls had finished eighth again this season. The small consolation was that their friendly rivals in ninth and tenth place were there to keep them company.
Ninth place went to the Gwangju Phoenix, one of their eternal allies in mediocrity, while the Daejeon MacPhies—who their fans always claimed were perpetually happy—took tenth.
"Finishing eighth with this roster is an achievement in itself. If you want to climb higher, you might need to dust off your mask and get back on the field."
"Oh come on, you suggested I retire because I was trash, and now you want me back in uniform? How's that supposed to work?"
"Want me to slot you back into the third team right now? It's been so long since we made the playoffs, all sorts of crazy ideas are crossing my mind."
"If putting me in the lineup could win us a championship, I'd have done it ages ago."
"Fine. Back to work."
Choi Seung-taek worked for the Busan Sea Gulls, a team that hadn't made the postseason in four long years.
And to make matters worse, Baekdu Mountain—the heart and soul of the Sea Gulls—was thinking of retiring at the end of next season, casting an even darker shadow over their future.
"Oh, right. Seung-taek, can you compile a list of the players we're most disappointed in? You know what I mean."
At the team leader's request, Choi Seung-taek stiffened slightly.
'He's beating around the bush, but asking for player cuts at this time of year? There's only one thing that could mean.'
"Already prepping for releases?"
"Yeah. The front office wants to kick off rebuilding or whatever ASAP."
Ha Seok-jin let out a deep sigh. He knew exactly what the higher-ups were after.
A brutal season of cuts was about to begin.
And the blade would fall not on the first-team stars, but on the low-paid second-team players grinding it out.
Choi Seung-taek, staff analyst for the Busan Sea Gulls strategic analysis team.
Feeling a bit down, he glanced at his employee ID.
'Still gotta do it, though. Wonder how many we'll cut this time...'
He should be used to it by now, but cutting players never got any easier. It hit harder because he'd once been on that list himself.
It was unavoidable. Ten new players came in, so at least ten had to go.
Those not chosen by the organization had to leave.
Choi Seung-taek checked his organized data.
This was the age of sabermetrics.
Evaluations based on batting average, slugging, on-base percentage, OPS, wRC+, WAR, wins, losses, holds, saves, ERA, strikeouts, and more.
These processes got sharper with each season. With the year over and all the numbers crunched, sifting through was quick work.
Choi Seung-taek slowly carried the compiled list to the team leader.
'From here on, it's up to the big shots...'
"Here's the list, all done."
"What, already?"
"The evaluations were finished ages ago. I just filtered it."
"Fair enough. You've been busting your ass, so this isn't even real work."
Ha Seok-jin took the list from Choi Seung-taek. It was plenty reasonable.
"Good job. Nothing else for now."
Choi Seung-taek returned to his desk.
The Busan Sea Gulls were a peculiar team. They charged to first or second from April through May. But by season's end, they inevitably crashed to the eighth-place basement.
The most fatal blow in recent years was failing to sign their starting catcher in free agency back in 2018, leaving a hole they never filled.
'If I'd stayed on as a player then, I could've gotten a ton of first-team at-bats.'
Of course, Choi Seung-taek wasn't starter material. He was decent enough as a backup catcher, but not ready for the everyday role.
Back when he was playing, the organization had depth at catcher—starters and backups—so he bounced between first and second teams.
Eventually, they decided they didn't need him and put his name on the release list.
Luckily, instead of outright cutting him, they offered him a staff job when he chose retirement over the road.
Supporting his single mother, Choi Seung-taek took the sure thing. Financial pressures made jumping to another team too risky.
'Kinda regret it. Could I still cut it if I tried now?'
He held no grudges against the organization that suggested retirement.
They'd even sent him to the States to study power analysis, bolstering the team.
His year abroad taught him cutting-edge techniques, which he brought back to impress the front office and earn high marks.
Everything was going well—until his mother's health tanked while he was gone.
By the time he returned, her cancer was advanced. He rushed her to the hospital upon landing.
Poke.
The team leader poked his head in.
"Seung-taek, drinks after work?"
"Sorry, team leader. Got plans to visit Mom tonight."
"Ah, right. Go on, then."
Ha Seok-jin looked apologetic.
Choi Seung-taek left the drab team office and headed straight to his mother's hospital.
"Mom. I'm here."
"Is that my boy?"
Her voice was glad. But it lacked strength.
Day by day, he could hear it fading. Seeing her like this always left him melancholy.
"How's work?"
"Great. Everyone says I'm killing it now."
But Choi Seung-taek didn't let his gloom show. That would only make things sadder.
She'd feel the same.
Wearing a bright smile, he massaged her shoulders and chatted about the week's events.
"How's staying here?"
"I catch glimpses of the sea sometimes. Should've come sooner."
"I should've brought you earlier. Didn't know you liked the ocean."
He spent the evening with her, then headed home.
On the way, gazing at the sea, he stopped at a street stall for a drink.
A few glasses in, his bottled-up sadness washed away.
After a while, it got late, so he stepped out. Stumbling along drunk, the sea came into view.
"Hoo..."
The night had darkened everything. The bright land under streetlights contrasted sharply with the gloomy, black sea.
"Damn it, I wanted to treat you to the good life with baseball."
He tried to push it aside, but it nagged at him.
Like the team leader said: 'Could I still play well if I picked it up now?'
Or 'If I went back in time, could I excel at baseball?'
Regrets swirled in the sea breeze.
"Could you really do well?"
A child's voice echoed around Choi Seung-taek.
"Huh? What'd you say?"
He looked around—no one.
"What the?"
"Then prove it. I'll help you."
The child's voice came again. He whipped around—still empty.
"What?"
Then he felt someone shove him toward the sea.
"Gah!"
Splash! Glug glug glug.
Cold seawater engulfed him. He sank deeper. Streetlights flickered faintly on the surface.
Even that light faded. Darkness swallowed him as he drowned in the depths.
"...Where is he?"
"No idea."
"Find him quick! No more 'I don't know' excuses!"
Voices searching for someone filtered in from outside.
'Who are they looking for? Hurry up already. So noisy.'
Thud thud thud.
Footsteps pounded past the door.
Creek.
Someone opened the door.
"Ah! There you are."
Poke poke.
"Senior! You gotta get up!"
Choi Seung-taek felt someone nudging him gently.
It annoyed him, so he tried to move, but his body felt heavy.
"Huh?"
"Senior! Blue Dragon Cup quarterfinals today! Get up!"
The voice grew desperate. He sensed urgency.
'Oh... they're looking for me. But Blue Dragon Cup? I don't scout anymore. Short-staffed, so sending me?'
Something was off. No Blue Dragon Cup in November.
'What's going on? Isn't it November now?'
"Senior, Coach is pissed."
'That voice sounds familiar. Who was it?'
Choi Seung-taek finally opened his eyes.
'Where am I?'
The ceiling looked weird. Not the team office. Not home.
But familiar somehow.
"Senior!"
He turned toward the voice and saw a face he recognized.
In front of him stood a junior from his high school baseball days, decked out in the team uniform.
"Wha? Min-sik? What're you doing here? And why do you look so young?"
"Senior, you still half-asleep? Everyone's freaking out looking for you. We're already late."
'Whoa, this dream feels so real. But he's saying we're late, so play along.'
"Got it. Coming right out. Don't worry!"
"You better. I'll tell Coach you're in the dorm."
Kim Min-sik, the first-year junior, headed out.
That instant, text appeared before Choi Seung-taek's eyes.
"Huh?"
Hallucinations in front of his eyes? He figured it was all a dream.
"What nonsense."
"What?"
The specifics snapped him awake.
"That's seven years ago."
With those final words, the text vanished.
"A dream? Yeah, has to be."
Tap tap.
Choi Seung-taek patted his cheek. He felt it.
"Huh? Why can I feel that?"
Slap slap.
To test further, he slapped harder.
It hurt. The pain was real.
"No way."
He scanned the room.
Memories flooded back. This was his high school dorm from his playing days.
"That's why it felt familiar... This can't be. Did I really go back?"
Thud thud thud.
Someone came running outside the door.
"Choi Seung-taek, you bastard! Get out here now!"
The coach's angry voice boomed.