Perfect Agent [EN]: Chapter 179

179. More Important Than Baseball (6)

Thousands of Suchen High’s supporters filled the stands, their eyes glued to the field as the opposing team’s leadoff hitter stepped up to the plate, bat in hand.

The third baseman, center fielder, and catcher—the same three players who had been on the field during Bumseok Ahn’s previous pitching appearance—were all starting today.

Since Bumseok Ahn’s last game, none of them had committed a single error.

That was the reason they were given another chance to prove themselves today.

I couldn’t help but wonder if they would rise to the occasion once more.

It was another intriguing aspect of the game for me.

“Play ball!”

The umpire’s cry signaled the start of the game.

Whack!

Whack!

Whack!

“Strike out!”

Bumseok Ahn’s dominance was immediately apparent.

His fastball consistently clocked in at a minimum of 149 km/h [approximately 93 mph].

Even seasoned hitters would struggle against such a pitch from an ace in top form.

What’s more, his control was impeccable.

With each game, his growth was palpable.

And to think, he was still shy of twenty, only a third-year high school student. I couldn’t help but imagine how much further he could develop in the next five or ten years.

Whack!

“Strike out!”

Whoosh-

“Strike out!”

He wasn’t just relying on his four-seam fastball and slider; he also had a devastating curveball that dropped sharply.

And he could throw changeups with pinpoint accuracy.

Bumseok Ahn seemed determined to make every pitch count, as if he were chasing a perfect game.

With a pitcher of his caliber giving it his all, the opposing hitters were left flailing, inning after inning.

Not a single player managed to reach first base as the opposing team’s batting order completed a full cycle.

Thus, the leadoff hitter found himself back at the plate in the 4th inning.

Bumseok Ahn had only thrown 35 pitches so far, a testament to his efficiency.

He continued his stellar performance into the 4th inning.

Tick!

A weakly hit ball trickled towards the third baseman.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been an easy play, but the third baseman’s tense expression and movements betrayed his anxiety.

I found myself silently urging him on.

‘Please, make the play and get him out.’

The ball bounced once before reaching him.

The third baseman reached out with his glove, his movements hesitant.

Ah…….

The ball bobbled out of his glove on the initial attempt.

He managed to prevent it from getting past him by blocking it with his body, but the ball bounced higher than expected.

The third baseman scrambled to retrieve the ball and fired it towards first base.

‘Ah…….’

He rushed the throw, and it sailed wide of the first baseman’s glove.

“Second! Second! Second!”

The opposing team’s first base coach yelled, pointing towards second base as the ball skipped away.

The runner on first didn’t hesitate, seizing the opportunity to advance.

The Suchen High players tried to cover the base, but it was too late.

“Safe!”

A hit for the opposing team and an error for Suchen High were recorded on the scoreboard.

Unfortunately, the third baseman had committed an error once again.

Sweat poured down his face.

At the same time, Bumseok Ahn shook his head, his hands on his hips, a clear display of frustration.

The game resumed immediately.

Whack!

“Ball!”

Whack!

“Ball!”

As I feared, Bumseok Ahn’s pitching began to waver after the error.

Two balls, no strikes.

Another ball would significantly increase the risk of a walk.

He needed to throw a strike.

Bumseok Ahn took several deep breaths, trying to regain his composure, and then unleashed the ball with all his might.

Thwack!

By sheer coincidence, the batted ball once again headed towards the third baseman.

The third baseman’s movements were noticeably stiff, his body language screaming tension.

He cautiously lowered his stance, glove extended, waiting for the ball to arrive.

He desperately wanted to redeem himself with a flawless play.

Thud!

The batted ball struck the uneven boundary between the grass and dirt, causing it to bounce lower than anticipated, below the waiting glove.

‘Ah!’

In the end, the third baseman committed a passed ball, the ball rolling through his legs.

“Run! Run! Run!”

The opposing team’s dugout erupted, urging their runners forward.

The runner on second sprinted past third and headed for home, while the batter-runner rounded first and slid into second.

“Waaaaaah-”

The opposing team’s dugout exploded in cheers, ecstatic to have scored the first run against Bumseok Ahn.

The runner who reached second base pumped his fist in the air, igniting his team’s morale.

Bumseok Ahn, on the other hand, wore a mask of fury, his anger fueled by the error that had led to the run.

The third baseman looked utterly dejected, as if he wanted to disappear.

“Time!”

As if sensing the team’s distress, the Suchen High bench immediately called a timeout.

And, inevitably, they replaced the third baseman, who had been the catalyst for the disastrous sequence of events.

The passed ball was simply bad luck.

Regardless, it was undeniable that the third baseman’s consecutive errors had directly resulted in the run.

The game resumed as soon as the new third baseman took his position.

Thwack!

This time, the batted ball soared high into the outfield.

The center fielder initially read the trajectory well, but a moment of hesitation prevented him from reaching the optimal spot.

He ended up catching the ball after it bounced once, then relayed it to the second baseman.

He could have made the out if he had reacted more decisively.

Perhaps the memory of allowing a run due to a non-error in the previous game had made him overly cautious.

It wasn’t an error, but he had missed an opportunity to record an out.

Despite the setbacks, Bumseok Ahn continued to rack up strikeouts, relying on his sheer talent.

He ultimately pitched 6 innings, finishing the game without allowing any earned runs.

After witnessing today’s game, my mind was made up.

* * *

The very next day, I found myself sitting across from Bumseok Ahn’s father once again.

“Have you reached a final decision?”

“Yes.”

“Then shall we proceed with finalizing the contract terms?”

Bumseok Ahn’s father assumed our conversation would naturally lead to a contract.

However, I couldn’t give him the answer he was hoping for.

“I apologize, but our agency has decided that we won’t be able to represent Bumseok Ahn.”

“Pardon……?”

Bumseok Ahn’s father was visibly taken aback, clearly unprepared for such an outcome.

He looked at me, puzzled, and continued, “If Dream Agency signs Bumseok and manages him, he’s guaranteed to earn hundreds of millions of won [hundreds of thousands of US dollars] right away. And if he makes it to the major leagues in a few years, your agency’s reputation will skyrocket.”

I hesitated to say it, but our reputation was already quite solid.

Our players were consistently performing at the highest level domestically and enjoyed widespread popularity.

“We adhere to certain principles when recruiting players. Unfortunately, Bumseok Ahn doesn’t seem to align with those principles.”

“What aspect of Bumseok doesn’t meet your requirements?”

“To be blunt, we’ve concluded that we can’t work with a player who undermines teamwork.”

Like Ingyu Jeong had pointed out, I questioned whether we could successfully integrate him into our agency’s team-oriented environment.

Furthermore, I wasn’t willing to risk jeopardizing the existing camaraderie among our current players.

“It’s true that my son has an intense desire to win. Sometimes, that passion might lead him to overstep. But isn’t that common among young athletes?”

“In my opinion, it goes beyond a simple desire to win. It seems he lacks respect for his teammates.”

I responded firmly, without hesitation.

“So, you’re saying you won’t offer him a contract?”

“Yes, I’m sorry I can’t give you the answer you were hoping for.”

“I believe you’re making a significant mistake. Won’t you regret this? As a matter of fact, we’ve also received an offer from YJ Agency.”

Bumseok Ahn’s father said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

“I’ve never regretted my decisions. And I won’t start now.”

“It’s not a pleasant feeling to be the first to reject our Bumseok.”

“It’s not that I’m underestimating Bumseok Ahn’s potential. He’s undoubtedly a talented player. For the advancement of Korean baseball, it’s crucial that players like him excel. While we won’t be able to work with him at our agency, I sincerely hope you can help him develop into a well-rounded player.”

It was a genuine plea.

* * *

After concluding my conversation with Bumseok Ahn’s father, I headed down to the training field.

Whack!

“Nice ball!”

Whack!

“Good, good.”

The familiar sounds of pitching and Ingyu Jeong’s encouraging shouts filled the air.

The player on the mound was none other than Woojeong Choi.

Even after school had resumed, he dedicated himself to training here almost every day.

With the season in full swing, most players couldn’t make it to the training field as often, and even regulars like Seokhun Oh and Seongju Park were away for games.

This meant Woojeong Choi had the spacious training field all to himself, receiving personalized coaching from Ingyu Jeong.

Because Bumseok Ahn was on the same team, Woojeong Choi’s progress might have seemed subtle, but he was steadily improving.

He was benefiting from a proper diet and weight training alongside professional players, leading to a gradual increase in his pitching speed.

Whack!

Whack!

“Let’s take a break here.”

“Yes.”

Woojeong Choi set down his glove and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Seeing that the training session was paused, I approached the pitching zone.

“Mr. CEO, you’re here?”

“Your throws are becoming increasingly consistent.”

“Really?”

Woojeong Choi beamed, clearly pleased by the compliment.

“And Woojeong, I have some good news for you.”

“Good news? What is it?”

“You know Bumseok Ahn, the senior? He won’t be joining our agency.”

“Weren’t you planning to sign him? Everyone at school was saying he was coming to our agency.”

Woojeong Choi looked confused, but a smile crept onto his face.

“That was the initial plan, but I don’t think he’s the right fit for our company. Perhaps pursuing the major leagues is a better path for him.”

“Oho.”

Woojeong Choi’s smile widened.

“I think Woojeong is secretly happy about this?”

“Oh, no. He’s still a player from the same school, so why would I be unhappy?”

But his words couldn’t mask the joy radiating from his face.

Ingyu Jeong, overhearing my conversation, quickly joined us.

“Mr. CEO, have you made a final decision?”

“Yes.”

I nodded, looking at Ingyu Jeong.

“You’ve made a difficult choice.”

“That’s right. It wasn’t easy at all.”

To be honest, it would be a lie to say I wasn’t tempted by the potential riches and prestige that came with representing Bumseok Ahn.

But for me, the players who were already with me were the priority.

I could only hope that Bumseok Ahn would find a supportive environment where he could thrive and become a successful player.