The Demon's Tongue Awakens
The tormented cry echoed from beneath Choi Seung-taek’s position at home plate.
“Ughhh…”
His body jerked violently.
“Ahhh…”
The pain-filled groan came from the catcher who had been lying motionless just outside the batter’s box.
“Hey… you okay?”
The veteran umpire hurried over, checking the catcher’s condition with swift, practiced hands.
“Ughhh…”
No answer came, only the same broken groan.
Brotherhood in suffering.
Of all the headaches a catcher faces, this was the worst. Choi Seung-taek’s catcher instincts surged like a breaking wave.
He slid his bat aside and rose, intending to step behind the catcher to assist.
“Ughhh…”
“No, no—keep the left foot planted. I’ll only move the right leg for emergency care.”
Choi Seung-taek tried to shift closer. The Gwangju catcher waved his hands desperately, signaling to stay back. With that, Seung-taek stretched only his right leg long and lowered his upper body toward the catcher’s back.
Now came the emergency treatment.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Choi Seung-taek began striking the catcher’s waist and tailbone area with controlled, precise blows.
The only folk remedy that could counter a life-threatening impact, a single thread of hope. The catcher’s groans slowly weakened.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Ughhh… no.”
When life gets this bad, even pointless chatter sometimes helps.
“You ever try this before?”
“Ughhh… no.”
“Hah…”
Even the umpire had to stifle his laughter at the exchange between the two catchers.
Strange. Choi Seung-taek felt angry. So he channeled that fury straight at Lee Tae-yang.
“You bastard!”
“Huh?”
His roar rippled across the field. The strange atmosphere grew thicker. The Gwangju players, sensing something off, stepped forward a few paces.
“You didn’t throw the ball straight?”
One Gwangju player had thrown. Another had hit. And the senior high’s catcher looked furious—an absurd scene.
“It’s still brand-new merchandise! I haven’t even used it yet and it’s already breaking down? What the hell?!”
“Hah…”
“Hrrk…”
Choi Seung-taek’s next words left the players on the field either biting their tongues or falling silent in solemn respect.
“Hey, you were wearing the protective cup, right?”
“Hoo… hoo… yeah.”
Hoo, good thing. If he hadn’t been wearing it, the guy would already be dead.
A protective cup is mandatory for catchers.
In amateur or semi-pro leagues the ball speed is slower, so many skip it. But any foul ball can turn into a disaster at any moment, so it must be worn.
“Hoo… hoo…”
The Gwangju catcher, who had collapsed completely, now dropped to one knee.
“You feel better now?”
“A little.”
Choi Seung-taek’s repeated tapping had worked. The Gwangju catcher looked visibly recovering.
Seeing the catcher nearly back to normal, Seung-taek picked up his bat again and stepped back into the box.
“What the hell are you doing?”
The umpire gave him a strange look.
“Huh? I still have to play.”
“No, you’re interfering. Go run to first base.”
Catcher Interference
A violation where the catcher’s glove contacts the batter’s swing or body, awarding the batter first base.
“Ah! Got it. Then I’ll head over.”
Choi Seung-taek walked to first base and handed the bat to the waiting junior who had come out to meet him.
The Gwangju catcher stood, dusted himself off a few times, and the game resumed.
***
Whiiiish.
Thud!
Strikeout.
In the blink of an eye the sixth inning had arrived.
Neither team had scored yet.
The outstanding first-round pick from Gwangju Pigeons had been too much for the batters. With Lee Tae-yang’s low fastball and splitter, the hitters were simply helpless.
Hoo… what now?
The combination was almost cheat-code level.
Contact hitters got pushed out by the velocity. Power hitters got toyed with by the splitter.
Choi Seung-taek had also targeted the fastball, but the same splitter had cost him the second at-bat.
Both pitchers are too solid. I can’t even see the rest of the defense clearly.
Out in the fifth, Seung-taek sat in the dugout, mind racing.
Just like the Gwangju team had rested their starter for the quarterfinals, Lee Tae-yang looked ready for a complete game today too.
No matter what, I can’t shake the pitcher.
Then something clicked in his eyes.
He saw the Gwangju catcher—still catching that high-difficulty splitter.
Could another Gwangju catcher even catch that ball?
Impossible. Seung-taek decided in a flash. The one to shake wasn’t the pitcher—it was the catcher.
***
And now it was his turn at the plate.
Through the System he watched Lee Tae-yang’s trajectory.
Low fastball dropping into the zone, then the splitter that suddenly plummeted to the dirt.
That’s why I can’t hit it.
With constant observation, the exact path was clear.
Choi Seung-taek changed his plan. No more chasing the fastball—target the splitter.
But his real goal wasn’t to get a hit off the splitter.
His goal was…
Sorry.
He glanced at the Gwangju catcher.
Whiiiish!
Thud!
Foul ball!
Lee Tae-yang had thrown a fastball.
Because Seung-taek had been swinging for the splitter, his timing was off. The force from his swing still turned the ball into a long foul.
Hoo.
Lee Tae-yang found that swing irritating.
It was too powerful. The thought crossed his mind that maybe a fastball would sail out of the park.
Again he deliberately threw a fastball. If it had been right in the center of the bat, it would have been a home run.
Then I can’t give him a good pitch. Only the four-hole hitter is dangerous. So if I want to walk him, I have to throw nothing but splitters.
Scritch.
Nod.
Lee Tae-yang had decided to cook Seung-taek with the splitter.
But Choi Seung-taek was waiting for exactly that.
Whiiiieeeek.
Tick!
Foul ball!
“Oof.”
The ball grazed the top of the Gwangju catcher’s thigh. The catcher let out a small pained sound.
Close.
Seung-taek looked back at the pitcher.
Scritch.
Nod.
Lee Tae-yang threw the splitter again.
This time for sure…
But that wasn’t Seung-taek’s aim.
Whiiiieeeek.
Thud!
Crack!
“Aaaaack!”
Again the Gwangju catcher’s cry rang out across the field.
“Oh no…”
“He got hit again.”
The replay flashed on the broadcast screen. The pitch had looked like a fastball until it suddenly dropped near home plate. Seung-taek’s splitter swing had crushed the bottom of the ball. That was why it rocketed up from the dirt and slammed into the catcher’s protective cup at even higher speed.
“This is almost lethal!”
“Horrible. How does a guy take two of those a day?”
The commentators sighed quietly each time the replay showed the cup being struck.
“Haah… ughhh…”
The vibration was unmistakable. Medical staff rushed onto the field at once.
“You okay?”
“Ugh… ugh…”
The Gwangju catcher could not answer.
The medical staff signaled that it was bad.
Instantly the Gwangju dugout coach and manager climbed the stairs. Within seconds the dugout was packed with people.
“What are you doing?! Get another catcher ready!”
Done.
For one player the nightmare had lasted forever. But Choi Seung-taek smiled.
Soon the Gwangju catcher was replaced by a second-year player.
Choi Seung-taek had succeeded. There was still one last thing to confirm.
Can this second-year catcher catch that high-difficulty splitter?
The game resumed. Seung-taek stepped back into the box again.
Lee Tae-yang, still reluctant to throw a fastball at him, lobbed the splitter.
Whiiiish.
Whooom.
“Utz!”
Pop!
The second-year catcher barely blocked it with a desperate pitch-blocking maneuver. The ball had nowhere to go.
“Safe!”
Because the ball didn’t roll far, Seung-taek didn’t even have to run. It was simply caught.
And then he exploded into the dugout. His mind was spinning at lightning speed.
He could feel it—the catcher was uncomfortable receiving that splitter.
“Everyone gather! Huddle!”
Choi Seung-taek called his teammates. It was rare for him to summon the entire team mid-game, so the defensive player who had been leaving rushed back.
“Shut up and listen! The catcher’s changed, right? Right now he can’t handle the splitter properly. Got that?”
“Uh…”
He didn’t seem to understand.
“From the next at-bat, only fastballs. The splitter is terrifyingly effective. But this new catcher can’t catch it.”
Seung-taek explained quickly.
“After this, we’ll see a lot of wild pitches or bases-loaded situations. Because the catcher can’t catch the splitter. That means the pitcher will throw more fastballs. So you only chase fastballs from now on.”
He spoke clearly, making sure they understood.
“I called you here because we just gained an advantage. So don’t get down on yourselves. Let’s go beat them properly. Understand?”
“Yes! We understand!”
Hopes flared. The team’s mood lifted.