The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 108

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 108
“Roooaaarrr!”
The moment the Referee called Safe, Camelback Ranch—Glendale’s home stadium—erupted with a roar that seemed ready to shake the very ground beneath it.
Soo-ho brushed the dirt from his uniform and rose to his feet.
Standing on Third Base, he clenched his fist and raised it toward the Stands, where the crowd roared their approval.
A thrilling surge of electricity raced up his spine and flooded his mind.
A cycle.
The batter’s ultimate dream—hitting a single, double, triple, and home run all in one game.
A record granted only when skill, fortune, and speed align in perfect harmony.
‘I’m so happy….’
I had actually pulled off something so incredibly difficult.
And not during the regular season, but on the Playoff stage where the pressure was doubled.
The spectators rose to their feet as one, offering their unreserved applause.
Their eyes were filled with awe.
And rightfully so—the performance I had displayed today transcended mere excellence.
Defense, hitting, base running—every facet.
I had completely dominated the Ground.
As if mocking the ancient adage that baseball is not a solo sport, I had burned the name Oh Soo-ho into the Ground with fierce intensity.
What followed unfolded in rapid succession.
Before the excitement could even settle, Casey stepped into the Batter’s Box.
He remained composed, unswept by the fervent atmosphere, and calmly swung his bat.
Crack!
A towering fly ball soared deep into Right field.
It was more than enough distance for me to score from Third Base.
I executed the tag-up smoothly and crossed Home Plate.
Score 9 to 0. It was the run that essentially sealed the game.
As I crossed Home Plate, the first to rush out was Mark.
He bounced excitedly as if he himself had set the record, and embraced me with crushing force.
“Oh my God! Soo-ho! You actually did it! You absolute madman! You monster!”
Casey, who followed after hitting the sacrifice fly, cast aside his usual stoicism and beamed widely, patting my back hard.
“I admit it. You’re the real deal.”
The fervent congratulations from my teammates.
I accepted their cheers with a bewildered but delighted smile.
Then it happened.
A smug voice suddenly interjected from somewhere.
“See? What did I tell you! Just needed one triple, didn’t I?”
It was Liam.
He strutted over with a shrug, radiating arrogance.
His demeanor suggested that this record had been created thanks to his prophecy.
“Jinx? Superstition? That’s nonsense. It was all thanks to my cheering, obviously.”
Oblivious to the gravity of the moment, Liam’s bright, innocent expression caused Mark and Casey’s eyebrows to twitch simultaneously.
The temperature in the Dugout plummeted in an instant.
“…Cheering?”
Mark’s face twisted into something menacing as he ground his teeth audibly.
Casey quietly removed his helmet and gripped it tightly in his hand.
Sensing the murderous atmosphere, all traces of amusement vanished from Liam’s face.
“Huh? G-guys? Why do you all look like that…?”
“You bastard, it’s only because the result turned out well—you nearly cost us a record with that big mouth of yours!”
“We said we’d settle this after the game, didn’t we? You better be ready.”
“H-help! Someone save me!”
Liam shrieked and hid behind Soo-ho’s back, while Mark and Casey chased after him in a comical display of mock violence.
Watching the cheerful chaos unfold, Soo-ho laughed aloud.
Perhaps it was the release of tension.
Every nerve in his body tingled with exhilaration.
* * *
Paul, a Scout for the Dodgers who had been observing the pandemonium, set down the pen he’d been holding.
His chest swelled with emotion so intensely it became almost suffocating.
He suddenly felt compelled to rewrite his entire understanding of baseball.
‘When people discuss the impact a superstar has in team sports, they typically cite basketball or soccer as examples.’
The reason was simple.
Basketball’s Michael Jordan, LeBron James, or Stephen Curry.
Soccer’s Lionel Messi or Cristiano Ronaldo could once dominate an entire match single-handedly.
They could seize the ball, break through defenses, score, and dictate their team’s fate throughout the game.
‘But baseball is different.’
It was a sport of ruthlessly impartial turns and probabilities.
No matter how exceptional a batter was, he remained one of nine, and his turn at the plate came with mechanical fairness.
‘If it’s not your turn when an opportunity arises, you can’t capitalize on it, and when fielding, if the ball doesn’t come to you, you stand passively and wait.’
Therefore, statistically speaking, baseball was a sport where a single player carrying an entire team to victory—the so-called “solo carry”—was nearly impossible.
No matter how brilliantly one player performed, if the other eight faltered, defeat was inevitable.
‘Yet there was an irony to it.’
Why were Major League Baseball Teams so desperate to pour astronomical sums into acquiring superstars?
Merely to sell more uniforms?
For ticket sales power?
‘True superstars shattered even that structural limitation.’
They reversed the entire flow of a game with a single swing at their designated turn.
Even in defensive situations where no ball came their way, they dominated through positioning and movement alone, pressuring opposing batters into weak contact.
They dominated from the shadows, transforming the supposedly impossible solo carry into reality.
And now.
Beneath Arizona’s scorching sun, there stood a player proving that very theory with his own body.
Oh Soo-ho.
He dominated the Ground as if mocking the very structural limits of baseball itself.
Despite not yet being a Major Leaguer.
Despite being a player who had only restarted baseball in the United States just three months ago.
Paul scanned the statistics etched onto the Scoreboard. Home run, single, double, and finally triple. A cycle.
On top of that, a defensive display so extraordinary it had completely shut down the opponent’s scoring opportunities.
‘Today’s victory wasn’t because the Desert Dogs played well.’
Soo-ho won it.
He seized momentum with a single swing at his designated Batter’s Box, and even when pitches didn’t come, his mere presence pressured the opposition.
He had transformed the Ground into his exclusive stage, scorning even the structural constraints of the sport itself.
‘We typically call such players game changers. In other words, superstars.’
Paul felt a chill run down his spine. In decades of scouting countless prospects, he had never experienced such a thrill.
Lacking technique? Soo-ho?
No experience? Such concerns were now irrelevant.
What was truly remarkable was that Soo-ho was now appealing to the organization to teach him.
‘Admittedly, luck plays a role here too….’
In baseball, there’s a phenomenon commonly called a breakout season.
Unknown players suddenly explode onto the scene and rise to stardom with surprising frequency.
Soo-ho’s situation was similar.
‘He’s maintained excellent batting form since the start of the Arizona Fall League season, so he’s been able to produce consistently during this short span.’
Once he grasped that feeling, he never let it slip, continuing to refine it.
And the results spoke for themselves—there was no denying his merit.
‘So the Dodgers absolutely must place Soo-ho on the 40-Man Roster with an NFS tag—non-tradeable.’
Soo-ho had proven he possessed star quality.
If his technical weaknesses were addressed from here on.
Soo-ho would undoubtedly be a talent capable of succeeding in the Major Leagues.
No. He would certainly reign as a superstar.
‘The most impressive part is that he seized this opportunity himself.’
‘My report’s going to be lengthy today, isn’t it?’
But Paul reconsidered.
‘No. I’ll write the report tomorrow.’
Even if he submitted the report today, the organization would still place Soo-ho on the 40-Man Roster.
But there was the championship game tomorrow.
‘At this pace….’
Something told him Soo-ho would deliver something spectacular tomorrow as well.
And if Paul’s prediction proved correct….
‘His treatment improved with today’s performance, but it’ll improve even more.’
What kind of treatment would the Dodgers offer Soo-ho?
Paul couldn’t know the General Manager’s true intentions.
But at the very least, Soo-ho would have no reason to feel disappointed.
* * *
Even after returning to the Dormitory, the excitement refused to settle.
The moment Mark burst through the Entrance, he hurled himself onto the Living room sofa like a diver, letting out a wild cry.
“Whoa! Damn! A Cycle! I’m so jealous, seriously!”
He buried his face in the cushions, kicking his feet wildly in genuine envy.
And rightfully so.
Mark was the quintessential power hitter—built for raw strength.
While he yielded to no one in sheer force, his bulk made him slow on his feet.
Home runs came to him as naturally as breathing, but a Triple was an impossibility—something he’d never achieve unless reborn.
“For me to hit a Triple, the ball would have to ricochet off the Fence and bounce around so much that the Outfielder trips three times, right? Or maybe I’d have a heart attack running the bases first.”
As Mark pounded the sofa and ranted on, Casey emerged from his Room where he’d left his luggage and offered his own comment.
“Your market value just skyrocketed.”
“Huh?”
“A Cycle, man.”
Casey pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drank it matter-of-factly.
His expression seemed indifferent, but envy flickered behind those stoic eyes.
Truth be told, Casey had recorded a Cycle before.
But that was back in the Low-A League.
At that level, Casey had been overwhelmingly talented among his peers—such feats were possible.
But this was the Arizona Fall League.
A gathering of Double-A and Triple-A aces from every Baseball Club.
And this wasn’t even the regular season—it was the grueling Playoff stage.
To record a Cycle here, in such a crucial game, was something entirely different.
Suddenly, Casey felt something unfamiliar stir within him.
He’d grown up hearing he was a prodigy, never once envying another soul.
Yet now he recognized this feeling as genuine, healthy inferiority—something he’d never experienced before in his life.
And there was something else odd about it all.
Casey had always been a staunch individualist.
The type who didn’t bother with teammates unless they served his success.
When he first saw Soo-ho, hadn’t he treated him like he was invisible?
But now? How different things were.
Like a teenager experiencing his first real friendship, Casey was slowly, clumsily opening his heart.
Through shared sweat, mutual respect for each other’s abilities, and chasing the same goal together.
An unspoken bond—something deeper than mere teammates—had quietly taken root among them.
“…But why do you look so serious?”
Casey tilted his head at Soo-ho’s grave expression.
Soo-ho shrugged and settled into a Dining Table chair.
“It’s just… the finals are tomorrow. Doesn’t feel right celebrating like this.”
Mark and Casey trembled.
It was the chillingly cold edge that had seeped into Soo-ho’s words—a venom so potent it froze them in place.
Today, Soo-ho had hit for the Cycle.
I had achieved a career record that a baseball player might only attempt once in a lifetime—and on the Playoff stage, no less.
An ordinary person would have uncorked champagne tonight as if they possessed the entire world, lost in self-intoxication without a soul to reproach them.
No, that would be the normal response.
But Soo-ho?
Not the slightest hint of elation.
Instead, my gaze remained calm and settled, fixed on tomorrow.
No—fixed solely on the championship.
‘This madman….’
Casey and Mark silently clicked their tongues in disbelief.
Did this guy even possess the concept of satisfaction?
Why he continued to display such excellence.
Now they were beginning to understand.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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