Genius Pitcher Hides 170Km [EN]: Chapter 42

#41. 167km/h

One of the biggest challenges for baseball broadcasters and commentators is constantly monitoring what they say.

Announcers, who are generally employees of the broadcasting station and accustomed to following protocol, are in a slightly better position. However, many commentators, often former players, struggle with this self-censorship.

But they have to endure it to cling to their precarious commentator positions for even one more day.

The only time they feel they can speak freely is during the brief moments when the microphone is off and commercials are playing.

“Ha… Choi Dong-seok, that crazy bastard, is completely out of line. Seriously?”

“Why is he doing that? That’s incredibly reckless.”

“No, that’s not just reckless, he’s throwing to injure. I know because I used to be a pitcher.”

“Did something happen between him and Jo Sung-oh?”

“It’s obvious. He’s friends with Hwang Sung-min, and Jo Sung-oh almost grabbed him by the collar earlier. Ugh, those thug types, really.”

“Anyway, wouldn’t this put the Warriors at a disadvantage? Choi Dong-seok was going to be replaced anyway, and now the Warriors have lost their starting first baseman and left fielder at the same time.”

“Choi Dong-seok probably calculated that too. He can’t even memorize the signs properly, but he’s good at that kind of scheming. Ugh… if I were still playing, I would have…!”

“Ah, commentator, we’re on. Fifteen seconds before the broadcast.”

“Ahem.”

The announcer and commentator, who had been briefly venting their true feelings during the commercial break, seamlessly returned to their professional personas as if nothing had happened.

– This is Jamsil Stadium. The Warriors’ Kim Su-hak, the Magicians’ Choi Dong-seok, and manager Lee Dae-jun have all been ejected as both teams are fiercely battling to a 2-2 tie. The infield is currently being cleared.

– Ah, that’s unfortunate. The players from both teams need to demonstrate exemplary sportsmanship in front of a sold-out crowd. I hope Jo Sung-oh’s injury isn’t serious.

– The last play definitely had the potential to be misinterpreted by the Warriors, wouldn’t you agree?

– It does. There was already a hit-by-pitch in the previous inning. The Magicians should have exercised more caution, especially considering the existing tension between the two teams stemming from Hwang Sung-min’s release and subsequent acquisition [by the Magicians].

– Well, the game must go on. The Magicians’ attack in the top of the 8th inning is about to begin, and the Warriors’ first baseman and left fielder have been replaced.

– Yes, Yong Ji-hoon has entered the game to replace Jo Sung-oh. He’s versatile and can play both catcher and first base. And Ha Yong-dae has come in as the left fielder in place of the ejected Kim Su-hak.

– Considering that Choi Dong-seok was nearing his pitch limit, the pitcher would have been replaced soon anyway… it seems like the Warriors have suffered a net loss by losing two starting players.

– That’s easy to say in hindsight. I wouldn’t want to assume the Magicians strategized that far in advance.

– As we speak, a new pitcher is emerging from the Warriors’ bullpen. Veteran Lee Man-shik, who pitched effectively until the 7th inning, is stepping down, and instead… huh? Who is that?

The announcer’s eyes widened as he continued his commentary, and even his voice began to tremble slightly.

Curious about what was happening, the commentator turned his gaze toward the field and let out an exclamation that was almost a scream.

– Han Su-hyeok? Han Su-hyeok is coming out?

– Am I seeing things, commentator?

– No! Ah, what is going on? Han Su-hyeok is taking the mound in the top of the 8th inning!

– Ah… Han Su-hyeok was considered a super-prospect pitcher since high school… but he announced that he wouldn’t pitch this season due to the risk of injury…

– That’s right. But it looks like he’s really going to pitch. Han Su-hyeok is starting his warm-up pitches. Now I really don’t know what to expect. Fans, Han Su-hyeok is preparing to throw the ball!

﹂I stepped away for a minute to use the restroom, what’s going on? Han Su-hyeok is pitching?

﹂He said he couldn’t pitch this year… isn’t he going to risk a shoulder injury for nothing? Don’t we have any other pitchers to use?

﹂We have guys to throw. We just don’t have guys who can throw *well*.

﹂What is it? Is he planning to retaliate with a beanball [a pitch intentionally thrown at the batter’s head]?

﹂That’s intense! Yeah, screw the game, take them all out!

﹂Mag) This is cheating. Why is the shortstop pitching?

﹂Mag) Is he really going to try it?

﹂Mag) If he throws a beanball here, someone’s going to get seriously hurt today.

﹂Mag) Are those cheating bastards thinking of putting Han Su-hyeok on the mound just because they got hit once?

﹂Yeah, let’s do it, you bastards. Let’s see what happens.

﹂The guys who threw the beanball in the first place are insane.

﹂Can you still talk trash after getting a 165 km/h fastball to the head? We’ll see.

The Warriors fans, who had been subdued after Jo Sung-oh was carried off the field, started yelling at the Magicians, calling for violence as if nothing had happened.

And the Magicians players looked at me with bewildered expressions, as if they had no idea what was going on.

Thwack!

Thud!

Thwack!

I eased up on my shoulder and threw a few balls as if I was genuinely warming up.

The speed on the scoreboard hovered around 145 to 148 km/h.

The next batter, Song Gi-tae, who had been taken aback by the unexpected situation, tilted his head from the on-deck circle. He seemed to notice that the velocity was off.

That’s right, now that I think about it, you would remember. You saw it once during spring training.

In that case.

Whoosh

Thwaack!

– O-o-one hundred and sixty-five! Han Su-hyeok recorded 165 km/h in his practice pitch!

– Commentator! That’s a new domestic record, right?

– Ah, yes, well, since it’s a practice pitch, it won’t be officially recorded. But the previous record was 162 km/h, thrown by a Magicians foreign pitcher in 2012. Today, that record is on the verge of being broken for the first time in 15 years. And by a domestic player!

– Amazing! As we speak, Han Su-hyeok has finally warmed up and is preparing to pitch! Viewers, please tune in to see if the domestic top speed record will be broken for the first time in 15 years!

I unleashed a 165 km/h fastball at the end to reawaken the fear dormant in that bastard’s mind, and only then did Song Gi-tae’s expression change to my satisfaction.

The bewilderment and fear on that bastard’s face makes my blood boil.

“Play!”

Thinking back to my time in the Major Leagues, I didn’t have a single person I could truly call a friend.

I considered friendship a luxury in the Big Leagues, where every day felt like a battle. I believed it was an impediment to my performance.

That was the case even within the team, so there was no need to even consider my relationship with players from other teams.

A fight would break out at least every few months, and some of them resulted in fairly lengthy suspensions.

I had always been confident in my fighting abilities, but after encountering a seemingly insurmountable barrier due to racial differences, I even took up boxing.

I refused to lose to anyone, or anything.

As I knocked down one opponent after another, I earned the nickname ‘Mad Dog’. And from a certain point onward, no one dared to approach me during bench-clearing brawls [fights involving both teams].

Only after no one dared to challenge me, even when I openly threw beanballs, did I stop boxing, which I had been learning with a personal trainer.

Haa.

Thinking about it now suddenly pisses me off.

I made eye contact with the guy.

As I recalled the monsters of the Big Leagues, each of whom was like a wild animal, I couldn’t help but scoff at Song Gi-tae’s slight build.

Whether he noticed it or not, Song Gi-tae gritted his teeth and glared at me.

I was genuinely speechless.

Even guys weighing over 120kg in the Major League didn’t dare to give me that look.

The time has come to show this guy, who clearly doesn’t know what fear is, the harsh realities of life.

Am I going to slam a 165km/h fastball into that damn bastard?

No, it would be too much of a loss for me to get suspended after hitting him with just that one pitch.

Song Gi-tae and Hwang Sung-min, those dog-like bastards, deserve a more profound punishment.

I begin my pitching motion.

Using the rotation of my legs and hips to generate power, then transferring that power to my core, and finally channeling that power to my shoulder to unleash it all at once.

Whoosh

The ball, compressed and propelled using the three axes of rotation – lower body, core, and shoulder – tore through the air with a roaring sound and hurtled towards Song Gi-tae’s head.

“Ugh, heh, heok!”

Whether it was because the afterimage of the 165km/h fastball he had just witnessed lingered in his mind, Song Gi-tae was visibly terrified and instinctively sat down on the ground, his chin trembling.

But the ball, which had initially seemed destined for his head, traced a wide arc and sharply broke into the strike zone.

“St, strike!”

You’ve probably never seen anything like this before: a 148km/h curveball.

– Ahh! What on earth was that? Commentator! It definitely looked like a ball headed straight for his head, but suddenly it curves sharply and dives into the zone?

– Yes… that’s… in my opinion, it’s a type of power curve… no, a slurve [a hybrid between a slider and a curveball]… ha, I don’t know. I really can’t believe what I’m seeing. A 148 curveball, does that even make sense? I’ve truly never witnessed anything like that before!

– Song Gi-tae, who was in the batter’s box, is lying on the ground with a dazed expression.

– He must have been incredibly startled. If a ball approaching 150 km/h flies with that kind of trajectory, it’s truly terrifying. Han Su-hyeok! He’s really amazing! He’s literally insane!

– Shit… what did I just see…

﹂148 curveball… lololololol

﹂What kind of curveball comes out at 148? Our Man-shik hyung’s curveball is 120?

﹂If you threw that ball at me, I’m confident I’d piss myself and pass out.

﹂Mag) Is that shitty rookie throwing beanballs like that at a senior player from the same team?

﹂It’s a strike, not a beanball.

﹂Mag) Ugh, does that bastard think he’s invincible just because he’s good at baseball?

﹂Choi Dong-seok is the one who’s invincible. Have you already forgotten about him hitting Jo Sung-oh and swearing?

﹂But seriously, why didn’t he go to the Major League and come to our team? I’m so grateful I don’t know what to do…

The baseball stadium was filled with fans’ curses and cheers.

Enormous energy surged from the Warriors fans, who had been feeling dejected after losing two players. A few spectators who were clinging to the safety net were pulled away by security guards.

Meanwhile, Song Gi-tae, who had barely regained his composure, resumed his batting stance with a flushed face.

He’s a pathetic bastard, but surprisingly brave. If I were him, I would have just pretended to be unconscious and stayed down.

Okay, then this time.

Whoosh!

Thwaack!

“Cough!”

Song Gi-tae, who was once again terrified when a ball exceeding 150 km/h came towards his knee, jumped backward and landed on his rear end.

But this time too, the ball curved sharply inward and caught the edge of the strike zone.

“Strike!”

“······”

– Ah, what is this again!

– It’s, it’s a slider! A 156km/h high-speed slider!

– A slider comes out at 156? Isn’t that cheating?

– I don’t know! I don’t know anymore! Anyway, this is the first time you or I have ever seen a ball like that. We are now witnessing a historic moment in Korean baseball together!

– lol I can’t even pray. A 156 slider… is this a cartoon?

﹂Last time at camp, when they said Han Su-hyeok threw 165, all the guys who said it was nonsense, report yourselves.

﹂I’m banging my head and typing on the keyboard right now.

﹂I’m pressing my smartphone with my forehead too.

﹂I really didn’t know he was that good… no… then just be a pitcher.

﹂He said it’s hard this year because of the risk of injury. He’ll throw next year.

﹂So, next year, we’ll have our ace pitcher and cleanup hitter [a team’s best power hitter]?

﹂It’s really like a dream… the Magicians bastards made me feel like shit, but it’s all gone now.

The internet was buzzing with excitement.

“Ugh, heok!”

“Strike! Out!”

Song Gi-tae, who was barely holding on in the batter’s box, trembling, was so surprised by the 99km/h super slow curveball that flew towards his head and then swerved into the zone that he fell backward on his own.

Then, realizing his humiliation, he jumped up and retreated to the dugout. There was no trace of color on the fleeing bastard’s face.

“Waaaaah!”

“Han Su-hyeok!”

“Crazy! Really! Crazy! You’re crazy!”

I guarantee it.

For at least the next few months, that bastard won’t be able to do anything but tremble whenever a ball comes near his body.

Because my pitches just now were the kind of pitches that could completely ruin him as a batter.

“Uwaaa!”

“Han Su-hyeok! Han Su-hyeok!”

“You’re the best! You’re the best!”

After dealing with that Song Gi-tae bastard, the problematic Hwang Sung-min finally stepped into the batter’s box.

When I think about it, it all started with this bastard.

Bullying senior Jang Deok-soo, forcing intentional strikeouts, trying to hit me with a bat, and then shamelessly returning in a Magicians uniform and playing beanball pranks with Choi Dong-seok again.

There are all kinds of trash in the baseball world, but this is the first time I’ve ever encountered such a petty and despicable human being.

Well, maybe this bastard is a monster created by the twisted Korean baseball scene and its rigid seniority system.

It’s not enough to just mess with this bastard.

I have to make him want to quit baseball altogether.

I threw the ball with all my might towards the bastard’s head. This time it wasn’t a power curve or anything like that.

Whoosh

Thwaaaaaack!

A fastball that whizzed past Hwang Sung-min’s face. The bastard froze on the spot, not even attempting to dodge.

“B, ball!”

The moment the umpire’s ball call came out belatedly, a huge roar suddenly erupted from the stands.

The speed of the ball I just threw was now displayed on the scoreboard.

– 167km/h! 167km/h has been recorded! The highest speed record in Korean baseball has just been broken! Viewers! The 15-year-old record has been rewritten by a domestic player!

– Ah! That ball just now could have been… that’s not the point, it’s truly amazing!

– Han Su-hyeok is taking off his hat and offering an apologetic gesture. It seems he put too much force into it and the ball slipped out of his hand!

– Yes, that can happen. Anyway, ha… really, 167 in Korean baseball! The excitement is palpable. It’s truly amazing!

Baseball is a truly remarkable sport.

In that you can discern the thoughts of your teammates or opponents without even exchanging words.

Hwang Sung-min, whose face was pale and rigid, began to glare at me with an expression as if he had finally understood something.

He realized that the ball that flew towards his head just now was intentional.

So what? What are you going to do about it?

When you throw a 142 junk ball [a slow, easily hittable pitch] at someone else’s shoulder, you have to accept the possibility of a 165 ball flying into your head.

“Play!”

I had such thoughts for a while after the regression [referring to the protagonist’s time travel/reincarnation].

I was facing respected veteran players like senior Jo Sung-oh and senior Lee Man-shik, and amiable guys like Ahn Chi-wook, and I was softening without even realizing it.

Should I live a more harmonious life this time around?

After all, everyone is connected in this industry, and school seniors I barely remember are playing on this team and that team.

Should we hang out together, eat together, and occasionally have a drink?

Should we all live together, laughing and joking like that?

“Bullshit.”

What a naive dream that was.

I was viewing the world through rose-colored glasses.

Because my past life was so intense, I longed for a world where I could live laughing with everyone.

After all, there are no true friends in this industry. No, at least the guys wearing different uniforms are all enemies.

Whoosh

The same high-speed slider that I threw at Song Gi-tae earlier hurtles towards the bastard’s knee.

At the end of the pitching motion, I made eye contact with Hwang Sung-min.