First Home Run – The Scent of Success
At the precise instant of contact, Choi Seungtaek felt it.
That familiar, intimate weight returning to his hands—the unmistakable rhythm of bat meeting ball, the vibration traveling up his arms like an old friend’s handshake.
“First, we run.”
But the lesson from Jamsil echoed in his mind, so instead of swinging he dropped the bat and bolted toward first base. His legs were still light; he had no idea what would happen next.
Choi Seungtaek planted his foot on first, turned toward second, and the second-base umpire looked up at him, slowly circling one finger toward the sky.
“Huh? Then…?”
The umpire’s gesture was unmistakable. Home run.
“It went over?”
Only then did Choi Seungtaek glance around, confirm the ball had cleared the fence, and the roar of the crowd exploded around him.
“Waaaaaaaaaaaah!”
“Choi Seungtaek! Choi Seungtaek! Choi Seungtaek!”
In the stands, waves of orange light rippled like a living ocean. Choi Seungtaek stood in the middle of it, savoring the sound as he began his slow lap around the bases.
“This… this is real? Finally.”
“Nice! Choi Seungtaek!”
He received a thunderous high-five from Lee Sung-sip waiting at home plate.
“Come on, fast!”
And in the dugout, Park Wangyu led the charge of his seniors as they welcomed him with rough, affectionate slaps.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Choi Seungtaek’s helmet took countless hits.
“Congratulations on your first home run. I told you that’s all you had to do.”
“Thank you.”
The batting coach, always the most confident in him, clapped him on the back with unmistakable pride.
The entire Daejeon Magpies dugout, still heavy with the weight of defeat, now crackled with the first sparks of a comeback.
Meanwhile, the Sparrows’ dugout was in utter chaos.
A seven-run lead that should have been a foregone conclusion had been reduced to a single run in just one inning. Four runs allowed, yet the lower lineup had been wiped out—only to watch Choi Seungtaek, batting sixth, deliver the ultimate dagger.
The manager could no longer stand idle.
“Bullpen ready. Bring in the winning combination.”
“Understood.”
But the Magpies were still not retiring the side, so the Sparrows poured everything they had left into the game.
Meanwhile, one pitcher sat alone on the bullpen bench, face drained of color.
“This can’t be happening. How did a seven-run lead turn into this in a single inning?”
That pitcher was Lee Chung-seong.
His expression was worse than the Sparrows’ starter who had already surrendered six runs. He watched the game with frantic anxiety.
“I just finished everything I needed to do for today… if this slips away, everything is gone.”
And on top of that, he was supposed to shoulder the pitch count for the damage. If the Magpies won, it would be pure hell for him.
He would rather anything else happen.
“Maybe it’s better this way. At least they think I’m still carrying the burden.”
Lee Chung-seong would make sure the Magpies lost. That was the only path left.
HP: [x] / [max]
“Finally… I got my first home run.”
Choi Seungtaek was still floating on the high of that first MLB home run when the dugout seats began to spin.
“Wait… if I do that…”
A sudden unease washed over him. He stood up again.
The original plan had been to let Lee Chung-seong take his punishment outing and watch him get shelled, but the game had changed. They were now winning, and he had to finish this himself.
“I can’t just trust the plan anymore. I need to see the punishment outing end.”
Choi Seungtaek headed straight for the pitching coach.
“And more than anything, I cannot watch Lee Chung-seong get the win.”
When Choi Seungtaek began searching for the pitching coach, the pitching coach had already relayed his thoughts to manager Han Geunseong.
The pitching coach had thought exactly the same the moment Choi Seungtaek hit the home run. He immediately went to the manager and received approval.
While Choi Seungtaek was still being roughly patted on the back by his teammates, the pitching coach passed by and the manager accepted the suggestion.
When the pitching coach returned, he gave Lee Chung-seong exactly what he did not want.
“Chung-seong worked hard. You held up until the seventh. Park Hyuk and Yoon Jeong-jin, get ready.”
“What? Coach, I can still throw more!”
Lee Chung-seong’s face froze.
“But we can’t end it like this. I insist I can continue.”
“Look at his reaction. This is exactly what we expected. This is good news, isn’t it? He’s only thirty pitches away from two hundred. What else can he throw?”
“We must shut this game down. The manager said to bring in the winning combination. You’ve done enough. Everyone will see you in a good light for today.”
“No, that’s not—”
“Yes, you’ve carried the inning load. Well done.”
“Well done.”
Even the veteran middle relievers, Park Hyuk and Yoon Jeong-jin, spoke to him in that tone. Lee Chung-seong had no choice but to nod.
“What… now?”
The only thing left for Lee Chung-seong was to keep the Sparrows’ spirits from collapsing over the next two innings.
Thwack!
Number seven, Hwang Ganggyeong, delivered a lucky single.
“Nice!”
The newly inserted Sparrows bullpen was still struggling to find the zone.
“Hoo…”
Choi Seungtaek stood up to watch the game.
Number eight, Gwan Yonggwon, laid down a bunt that advanced the runners.
“Whoa… this is insane! I can’t even watch the game anymore!”
Choi Seungtaek’s blood was boiling again, so he began re-equipping his catcher gear.
Thwack!
“Aah…”
“Damn.”
He re-equipped, then looked up. It was a heartbreaking fly-out.
Number one, Lee Gun-taek stepped up.
He had only come to the plate twice this inning.
Thwack!
Lee Gun-taek flashed his bat to the ball and singled.
The left fielder scrambled over and threw home.
“Tough break.”
The runner couldn’t reach home because the ball was too fast.
With one out, runners on first and third, Choi Seungtaek watched the play with tense focus.
Thwack!
“Ah! Kim Hae-ja cuts it to shortstop!”
Unfortunately, the second baseman’s ground ball did not change the outcome, and the eighth inning began.
In the top of the eighth, the Magpies immediately inserted their winning combination.
Park Hyuk, fresh from the Daegu Eagles, took the mound. He handled three batters without trouble thanks to his sharp condition.
And in the bottom of the eighth, number three Cha Haengjin singled.
Number four Tae Pyung-yang also singled.
Number five Lee Sung-sip walked, loading the bases.
Empty bases, loaded.
This was Choi Seungtaek’s moment.
“Why me…?”
His veteran teammates had failed to score, and now he faced the promise of a bases-loaded eighth-inning scenario.
If this were a high-school tournament, he would have swung freely. But in the pros, he had almost never felt this pressure before, so his hands trembled.
“Hoo… hoo…”
Choi Seungtaek swallowed hard at the brutal opponent.
Bantz Yoon was a mixed-race Korean who had traveled to Korea like Samoss Kim—another Korean with foreign blood.
“Trust me. My condition is good today.”
Choi Seungtaek had decided that unless it was a top-tier starter, he could handle this guy.
“Bantz Yoon. His slider is his weapon. He probably throws it too often. He’s been hammered with fastballs, so he’ll lean hard on the slider now.”
Whoosh… thud.
Choi Seungtaek held his swing back for the first pitch.
“As expected—slider.”
It was a pitch that dropped just below the strike zone, but Choi Seungtaek kept it on the plate.
“One more.”
Thud.
Whoosh… whoosh… thud.
Again he watched quietly, and again the slider raced past the zone with perfect movement.
“Player Choi Seungtaek is really watching that closely. Should we call it excellent bat control?”
“The meaning is similar, but he’s made no reaction. It looks like he’s reading the count well. This is impressive too.”
The commentators praised Choi Seungtaek’s calm patience.
“Two balls.”
So what would he throw now?
The pitchers and batters began their battle of wits.
Even though the opponent was capable, he avoided giving easy pitches and kept throwing difficult ones.
But because Choi Seungtaek simply did not swing, Bantz Yoon found himself in a dangerous count.
“Damn, this guy is a rookie? He reads the ball like a cheat. Then…?”
Thud.
Whoosh… whoosh… thud.
Choi Seungtaek was ready to swing, but he had already seen the same motion twice and did not fall for it.
“Crazy. He’s only throwing sliders.”
Thud.
Zero strikes, three balls.
The pitcher was completely trapped.
“Then what do I do?”
There was a clear answer.
Wait for the pitch.
But Choi Seungtaek suddenly did not want to follow the textbook.
“This time I’ll have no choice but to throw a strike. The manager hates this, but the opposite is true. Let’s see if he throws a strike.”
Either way, with the bases empty, he would score at least one run even with a double play.
Whoosh.
“As expected.”
The fastball sat right in the middle of the zone, and Choi Seungtaek did not miss.
Thwack!
The ball streaked hard between center and right field.
“Nice!!! Round and round!!!”
Normally one would pause here—standing still would result in a walk and tie. That was the correct play.
But Choi Seungtaek swung again, and because he made contact on the first swing, the runners froze for a split second before realizing they were safe and exploded toward home.
“Nice!”
Number three Cha Haengjin and number two Tae Pyung-yang both scored.
“Eh?”
Because the ball had been pulled hard, even number one Lee Gun-taek tagged up and scored—only to be caught at home.
“Hoo… hoo… nice!”
Choi Seungtaek reached second and pumped his fist.
The scoreboard read 7–8. In the bottom of the eighth the Magpies had come back.
The Magpies’ energy surged.
Except for one player.