Rising Fame Brings Unwanted Heat
Someone mentioning you on a broadcast is always a good thing.
But this praise wasn’t good for Choi Seungtaek at all.
*No. I have to look like the underdog so the other side gets complacent… I can’t afford to let them take me at face value…*
Choi Seungtaek’s appetite vanished the moment he bit into his boiled pork.
He’d already been mentioned on *Baseball Together* more times than he cared to count for all the wrong reasons. Of course, that exposure had landed him the first-round pick in the draft and a ridiculously lucrative contract. But now the tables had turned.
On the field, no one knew his name. That was the whole point. Yet today’s broadcast had been broadcast loud.
*Damn. Now even the casual fans are going to recognize me.*
As he dissected every frame of the broadcast, Choi Seungtaek knew exactly how to handle named players. The flood of scrutiny that was about to hit him was terrifying.
Being noticed was flattering, but the price tag that came with it was heavier than anything he’d ever carried.
*Even if my name-value rises, if I can’t deliver, I’ll just fade into the background like every other pro. God, I’m still a rookie. How many years until free agency? This is bullshit.*
Choi Seungtaek let out a long sigh.
He had no idea how deep the analysis had gone, but at least the defensive shifts were still safe. If they even suspected his identity, they couldn’t do anything about it.
Shifts were impossible to hide; they were thrown in the open. Even if someone figured it out, it was too late—Seungtaek simply exploited the habits they already had.
So in a way, it was the perfect weapon.
*Hmm… still, this is free value. I should consider it a win.*
He was still a long way from qualifying for free agency, but the next contract talk would be a lot easier. He chose to be optimistic.
Once his head stopped spinning, he finished organizing his thoughts, cooled off, and finally fell asleep.
***
The next morning arrived.
Choi Seungtaek pulled into Daejeon Baseball Stadium for morning training.
*Yeah… I wonder how much analysis I took last night.*
He wanted to see exactly where he stood right now.
[ **Choi Seungtaek: B-Grade Catcher** ]
[ **Blocking: C+ Framing: C+ Steal Prevention: A Pitcher Lead: B** ]
As a catcher, nothing had really changed.
Most of those stats came from personal ability, so nothing had shifted dramatically.
*Well, since it’s personal, it doesn’t really matter… Wait, the + on steal prevention is gone.*
It was the result of the other teams’ analysis.
Every single club had decided Choi Seungtaek’s ability to stop stolen bases was elite. As a result, his overall grade had dropped a notch.
*So I’m only going to steal when it’s obvious. That’s why my ability looks worse now. But they’ll be extra careful after this. Good for our pitchers.*
Choi Seungtaek quickly pieced it together.
[ **Choi Seungtaek: B-Grade Batter** ]
[ **Batting Form: A Contact: C Power: C Eye: A Base Running: C** ]
He checked his hitting stats next.
*Damn, all the + signs are gone.*
Too many clubs had dug into him, and every advantage had vanished.
*My eye jumped me into B-Grade, then the extra analysis dropped me back. The System’s help must have been huge there.*
The System only appeared when he actually analyzed a pitcher in detail. Once the analysis was complete, the strike zone and trajectory overlays appeared automatically, and he fought from a massive advantage.
That was why eye had gotten such a big boost.
*So even if someone figures it out, it doesn’t change anything. It’s just that the pitcher and the catcher have to play well together.*
Just as he was finishing his analysis of the broadcast changes, someone called his name.
“Aigo! Our Choi Pro-nim has arrived?”
“Huh?”
It was Hwang Ganggyeong.
*Sudden unease.*
Choi Seungtaek’s instincts screamed something was wrong, and the feeling quickly became reality.
“Hey! Our future Major Leaguer!”
“Another one from our club?”
The squad that loved nothing more than to tease a named player had swarmed him.
*Oh no…*
“A… no, it’s not that! I don’t know what you saw, but…”
Choi Seungtaek tried to slip away, but the relentless questions pinned him down.
“You said it on *Baseball Together*! Don’t play dumb, man! You were at home resting, so you must have seen everything!”
Hwang Ganggyeong, eyes bloodshot from all-night training, had him cornered. Choi Seungtaek knew today was the day he got caught.
“At home resting? Our genius catcher! He was analyzing the batters! It was you who called every single shift, not the coach! Haha!”
Tae Pyung-yang tried to save him with a playful tone.
“Shifts… those were really called by Seungtaek?”
“Yeah?”
But a heavy voice from behind froze the teasing players instantly.
“Coach-nim isn’t letting Seungtaek skip night training for nothing. It’s because the rookie keeps forgetting every sign we give him.”
The head coach’s firm words silenced the squad.
“Then all those shifts I saw weren’t coach-nim’s signals—they were Seungtaek’s?”
“Yeah. Of course the shifts were based on the data our coaching staff prepared. But the final call on the field, the one that actually gets thrown, was Seungtaek’s.”
“…”
The players were stunned. For the first time, they realized every shift they’d seen had been Seungtaek’s signal, not the manager’s.
“Why are you all staring like that?”
“W-well… it’s hard to accept that your signals were actually his.”
*Whatever. I don’t care. In this case I’ll just brazen it out. I did well.*
“But it worked, right? Every shift landed the ball exactly where it needed to go. You were basically Zhuge Liang.”
Choi Seungtaek gave them a slightly mocking smile.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
The players who had been denied shifts before felt the power most keenly. Hwang Ganggyeong, the shortstop, and Gwan Yonggwon, the second baseman, had been moved the most.
Seungtaek had moved them into positions they absolutely should not have been in, yet the shifts had worked almost every time.
*If you show ability, no one can do anything about it.*
The players stared at him with dumbstruck faces.
“Seungtaek, you… really memorized all that?”
Lee Gun-taek, who had been listening quietly, asked.
“That’s right?”
*Not really, but I have to lie. Better to lie than admit the System.*
There was one flaw in the Major League analyst’s judgment.
The ability to call shifts came entirely from the System’s assistance.
The moment a batter stepped into the box, information on that hitter appeared in Seungtaek’s view.
If he did a thorough analysis, the first number he saw was UZR—the spray-chart value of where the hitter’s balls were going.
He would then move the outfielders to the highest UZR area.
So when he needed to reposition an outfielder, he would stand up and call the signal, then sit back down. When there were fewer adjustments, he simply called them while seated.
Of course, just like with eye, the System didn’t hand over raw numbers. He had to personally confirm every detail, especially the UZR values of the hitters he was shifting against.
The only weakness of this ability was that it required some data to activate.
“So that’s why I’m heading home after the game, right? Catchers have to think with their heads too.”
Choi Seungtaek tapped his temple with his fingers.
“Then… do you know my weakness too?”
Lee Gun-taek had thought Seungtaek might not even know his own flaws.
Choi Seungtaek recalled Gun-taek’s stats.
“Senior Gun-taek…”
*Right, look at the field.*
Choi Seungtaek turned his head and scanned the diamond.
[ **The System assists.** ]
*Got it! You’re quick on the uptake!*
The System immediately overlaid the numbers.
“Where are you looking?”
“Just a moment.”
Lee Gun-taek started complaining, but Seungtaek stopped him.
Gun-taek’s UZR was evenly spread across the field. For a player like that, shifts were meaningless.
“Senior, you don’t need any shifts. It’s actually more efficient to throw everything straight down the middle. You don’t have to worry about shifts.”
“Really?”
Lee Gun-taek looked relieved.
“Seungtaek, what about me?”
Tae Pyung-yang suddenly wanted to know too.
“Hmm… Senior…”
Choi Seungtaek glanced at the field again.
The numbers were slightly higher toward right field.
“Senior, you’re pulling the ball a lot more than I thought. You should increase your pull-hitting weight a bit.”
“Yeah? Oh… I need to work on that habit?”
“It’s not serious enough for shifts. You just pull so well that the right-field numbers are high. Plus, most of them are home runs, so the data doesn’t really mean much.”
“Oh ho…”
Choi Seungtaek spoke like a fortune teller, and the players began crowding around him.
*This could get annoying if I’m not careful. I need a way out.*
“What about me?”
The perfect moment arrived when Hwang Ganggyeong asked.
*Yes!*
Choi Seungtaek “glanced” at the field.
“Ah! Hyung, you need to go over there.”
“What? Where?”
Seungtaek pointed at the hitting coach.
“The hitting coach?”
“Yeah! There aren’t enough contact samples for analysis yet. So to get usable data, you have to do special batting practice. Haha!”
“Ah…”
Someone mentioning you on a broadcast is always a good thing.
But this praise wasn’t good for Choi Seungtaek at all.
No. I have to look like the underdog so the other side gets complacent… I can’t afford to let them take me at face value…
Choi Seungtaek’s appetite vanished the moment he bit into his boiled pork.
He’d already been mentioned on Baseball Together more times than he cared to count for all the wrong reasons. Of course, that exposure had landed him the first-round pick in the draft and a ridiculously lucrative contract. But now the tables had turned.
On the field, no one knew his name. That was the whole point. Yet today’s broadcast had been broadcast loud.
Damn. Now even the casual fans are going to recognize me.
As he dissected every frame of the broadcast, Choi Seungtaek knew exactly how to handle named players. The flood of scrutiny that was about to hit him was terrifying.
Being noticed was flattering, but the price tag that came with it was heavier than anything he’d ever carried.
Even if my name-value rises, if I can’t deliver, I’ll just fade into the background like every other pro. God, I’m still a rookie. How many years until free agency? This is bullshit.
Choi Seungtaek let out a long sigh.
He had no idea how deep the analysis had gone, but at least the defensive shifts were still safe. If they even suspected his identity, they couldn’t do anything about it.
Shifts were impossible to hide; they were thrown in the open. Even if someone figured it out, it was too late—Seungtaek simply exploited the habits they already had.
So in a way, it was the perfect weapon.
Hmm… still, this is free value. I should consider it a win.
He was still a long way from qualifying for free agency, but the next contract talk would be a lot easier. He chose to be optimistic.
Once his head stopped spinning, he finished organizing his thoughts, cooled off, and finally fell asleep.
The next morning arrived.
Choi Seungtaek pulled into Daejeon Baseball Stadium for morning training.
Yeah… I wonder how much analysis I took last night.
He wanted to see exactly where he stood right now.
As a catcher, nothing had really changed.
Most of those stats came from personal ability, so nothing had shifted dramatically.
Well, since it’s personal, it doesn’t really matter… Wait, the + on steal prevention is gone.
It was the result of the other teams’ analysis.
Every single club had decided Choi Seungtaek’s ability to stop stolen bases was elite. As a result, his overall grade had dropped a notch.
So I’m only going to steal when it’s obvious. That’s why my ability looks worse now. But they’ll be extra careful after this. Good for our pitchers.
Choi Seungtaek quickly pieced it together.
He checked his hitting stats next.
Damn, all the + signs are gone.
Too many clubs had dug into him, and every advantage had vanished.
My eye jumped me into B-Grade, then the extra analysis dropped me back. The System’s help must have been huge there.
The System only appeared when he actually analyzed a pitcher in detail. Once the analysis was complete, the strike zone and trajectory overlays appeared automatically, and he fought from a massive advantage.
That was why eye had gotten such a big boost.
So even if someone figures it out, it doesn’t change anything. It’s just that the pitcher and the catcher have to play well together.
Just as he was finishing his analysis of the broadcast changes, someone called his name.
“Aigo! Our Choi Pro-nim has arrived?”
“Huh?”
It was Hwang Ganggyeong.
Sudden unease.
Choi Seungtaek’s instincts screamed something was wrong, and the feeling quickly became reality.
“Hey! Our future Major Leaguer!”
“Another one from our club?”
The squad that loved nothing more than to tease a named player had swarmed him.
Oh no…
“A… no, it’s not that! I don’t know what you saw, but…”
Choi Seungtaek tried to slip away, but the relentless questions pinned him down.
“You said it on Baseball Together! Don’t play dumb, man! You were at home resting, so you must have seen everything!”
Hwang Ganggyeong, eyes bloodshot from all-night training, had him cornered. Choi Seungtaek knew today was the day he got caught.
“At home resting? Our genius catcher! He was analyzing the batters! It was you who called every single shift, not the coach! Haha!”
Tae Pyung-yang tried to save him with a playful tone.
“Shifts… those were really called by Seungtaek?”
“Yeah?”
But a heavy voice from behind froze the teasing players instantly.
“Coach-nim isn’t letting Seungtaek skip night training for nothing. It’s because the rookie keeps forgetting every sign we give him.”
The head coach’s firm words silenced the squad.
“Then all those shifts I saw weren’t coach-nim’s signals—they were Seungtaek’s?”
“Yeah. Of course the shifts were based on the data our coaching staff prepared. But the final call on the field, the one that actually gets thrown, was Seungtaek’s.”
“…”
The players were stunned. For the first time, they realized every shift they’d seen had been Seungtaek’s signal, not the manager’s.
“Why are you all staring like that?”
“W-well… it’s hard to accept that your signals were actually his.”
Whatever. I don’t care. In this case I’ll just brazen it out. I did well.
“But it worked, right? Every shift landed the ball exactly where it needed to go. You were basically Zhuge Liang.”
Choi Seungtaek gave them a slightly mocking smile.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
The players who had been denied shifts before felt the power most keenly. Hwang Ganggyeong, the shortstop, and Gwan Yonggwon, the second baseman, had been moved the most.
Seungtaek had moved them into positions they absolutely should not have been in, yet the shifts had worked almost every time.
If you show ability, no one can do anything about it.
The players stared at him with dumbstruck faces.
“Seungtaek, you… really memorized all that?”
Lee Gun-taek, who had been listening quietly, asked.
“That’s right?”
Not really, but I have to lie. Better to lie than admit the System.
There was one flaw in the Major League analyst’s judgment.
The ability to call shifts came entirely from the System’s assistance.
The moment a batter stepped into the box, information on that hitter appeared in Seungtaek’s view.
If he did a thorough analysis, the first number he saw was UZR—the spray-chart value of where the hitter’s balls were going.
He would then move the outfielders to the highest UZR area.
So when he needed to reposition an outfielder, he would stand up and call the signal, then sit back down. When there were fewer adjustments, he simply called them while seated.
Of course, just like with eye, the System didn’t hand over raw numbers.
He had to personally confirm every detail, especially the UZR values of the hitters he was shifting against.
The only weakness of this ability was that it required some data to activate.
“So that’s why I’m heading home after the game, right? Catchers have to think with their heads too.”
Choi Seungtaek tapped his temple with his fingers.
“Then… do you know my weakness too?”
Lee Gun-taek had thought Seungtaek might not even know his own flaws.
Choi Seungtaek recalled Gun-taek’s stats.
“Senior Gun-taek…”
Right, look at the field.
Choi Seungtaek turned his head and scanned the diamond.
The System assists.
Got it! You’re quick on the uptake!
The System immediately overlaid the numbers.
“Where are you looking?”
“Just a moment.”
Lee Gun-taek started complaining, but Seungtaek stopped him.
Gun-taek’s UZR was evenly spread across the field. For a player like that, shifts were meaningless.
“Senior, you don’t need any shifts. It’s actually more efficient to throw everything straight down the middle. You don’t have to worry about shifts.”
“Really?”
Lee Gun-taek looked relieved.
“Seungtaek, what about me?”
Tae Pyung-yang suddenly wanted to know too.
“Hmm… Senior…”
Choi Seungtaek glanced at the field again.
The numbers were slightly higher toward right field.
“Senior, you’re pulling the ball a lot more than I thought. You should increase your pull-hitting weight a bit.”
“Yeah? Oh… I need to work on that habit?”
“It’s not serious enough for shifts. You just pull so well that the right-field numbers are high. Plus, most of them are home runs, so the data doesn’t really mean much.”
“Oh ho…”
Choi Seungtaek spoke like a fortune teller, and the players began crowding around him.
This could get annoying if I’m not careful. I need a way out.
“What about me?”
The perfect moment arrived when Hwang Ganggyeong asked.
Yes!
Choi Seungtaek “glanced” at the field.
“Ah! Hyung, you need to go over there.”
“What? Where?”
Seungtaek pointed at the hitting coach.
“The hitting coach?”
“Yeah! There aren’t enough contact samples for analysis yet. So to get usable data, you have to do special batting practice. Haha!”
“Ah…”