The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 125

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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 125
At the entrance of a massive mountain, towering trees blocked out the sky.
As Soo-ho stepped out of the car, his body trembled against the biting mountain wind that pierced to his very bones.
But truthfully, it wasn’t simply the cold that made him shiver.
It was the terrifying declaration that had just come from Hank’s mouth.
‘No. He’s really going to hunt a bear?’
Over the past month, Soo-ho had endured this man Hank relentlessly.
This nutritionist was someone who never spoke idle words or nonsense.
If he said they were going to hunt a bear,
‘He’d actually search through the Mountain Interior and grab a massive man-eating bear by the throat.’
Soo-ho was Korean.
In the common sense of someone born and raised in Korea, a human encountering a wild bear with bare hands meant a gruesome death with limbs torn to shreds.
“Look… no matter what, a baseball player hunting a bear is a bit…”
“Are you scared?”
Hank tossed the question out casually while rummaging through the trunk for supplies.
When Soo-ho hesitated, swallowing dryly, Hank fixed him with a piercing gaze.
“Let me ask you something. Imagine you’re stepping into the Batter’s Box right now, facing the top-tier monster Pitchers in the Major League.”
“…”
“If those guys throw fastballs over 100 miles per hour, how do you think you’d feel?”
Soo-ho furrowed his brow.
A sign that he was thinking hard.
He’d already experienced 100-mile fastballs against Victor.
‘But in baseball, you can’t say 100 miles is the same as 100 miles.’
Velocity, pitch movement, pitch quality—those were beside the point.
Major Leaguers were naturally superior.
What mattered was the intent behind that pitch.
A minor leaguer is fundamentally someone trying to climb higher.
They have to prove themselves every time, and they must seize every opportunity.
So their pitches carry desperation.
Major Leaguers, on the other hand, are people with something to protect.
They pitch to avoid losing their current position, salary, career, and reputation.
To them, a batter was almost a threat to their standing.
Naturally, the latter was far more terrifying.
More so than someone trying to gain something,
Someone desperate not to lose what they already have is far more vicious.
Therefore, to Soo-ho now, those top-tier Pitchers were not mere bears,
But massive and fearsome like legendary dragons breathing fire from their mouths.
“You’d probably freeze at the plate. Your instincts would make you flinch, and your batting balance would collapse.”
Hank struck at the heart of the matter as if seeing through Soo-ho’s innermost thoughts.
“Remember this. The battle between Pitcher and batter is ultimately about momentum. The moment a batter feels fear in the Batter’s Box, that batter is as good as dead. That’s exactly why I dragged you into this Mountain Interior.”
Hank stepped closer to me, his face breaking into a grin—the expression of a ruthless mentor consumed entirely by my success.
“Venture into that mountain interior and face the killing intent of a massive grizzly bear directly. If you can control your heart rate and keep your eyes open even before an overwhelming apex predator of raw nature itself.”
“….”
“No matter how elite a Major League player you are, a fastball thrown by a mere human on the Mound will feel like nothing more than a round toy ball with its stitches glaringly visible.”
This was far more than simple endurance training.
It was a perfect mental reconstruction to completely erase primal fear—an elite courage-building regimen of the highest caliber.
I quietly mulled over Hank’s words.
‘No. Logically, I can’t even comprehend a baseball player hunting bears.’
My mind screamed vehemently that this was absolute madness.
But standing before Hank’s unwavering conviction and resolute gaze.
This insane logic somehow resonated with me like an absolute truth of the world.
Even though it was clearly pushing me toward the abyss of death.
I could feel Hank’s genuine dedication to making me the greatest Major League player, unfiltered and complete.
But soon I let out an exasperated laugh.
“Hey, Hank.”
“What now?”
“Why is a nutritionist the one giving me this kind of training?”
“Good question.”
Hank’s lips stretched into a predatory grin.
If it were merely to build my courage.
There would be no reason for him—the Senior Nutritionist of the Baseball Club—to personally trek into this freezing mountain interior with equipment in hand.
Above all, every action Hank took always carried nutritional and scientific reasoning.
And an obsessive purpose: to push my physical capabilities beyond their limits.
“Imagine facing a bear in that mountain interior, feeling the killing intent of an apex predator. Moreover, the extreme physical exertion of climbing a snow-covered mountain will shred every muscle in your body. To subdue the bear, you’ll need to move your body in countless ways. Your sympathetic nervous system will sense the ultimate crisis, flipping your survival switch to stay alive.”
I held my breath.
Hank continued his explanation.
“When those shredded muscles and individual cells scream and forcibly shift into ultra-rapid recovery mode, that’s when you slam dense red meat packed with the highest concentration of protein and iron into your stomach. Protein synthesis in muscles skyrockets after extreme physical activity—it’s the most basic principle of sports nutrition.”
He was planning to weaponize the terror of raw nature and extreme physical exhaustion as a booster for nutrient absorption.
“All I need to confirm is what kind of insane effect that red meat consumed in such an extreme state will have on your body.”
Truthfully, I don’t know much about nutrition.
But listening to his persuasion, I had nothing to say.
Somehow, it sounded right.
But….
“No. Still… it’s a bear!”
It was something I could only face with terror.
Yet even this lingering doubt of mine, Hank had a solution for.
“In the United States, when hunting or tracking wild bears, even in legal zones, no sane person enters the mountains without a guide. If you somehow got killed by a bear, I’d end up behind bars too. I can’t ruin my life, so that won’t happen.”
It was selfish yet the most ironclad guarantee.
Just as I let out a relieved sigh.
A massive four-wheel-drive pickup truck approached from the distance, kicking up clouds of dust.
The person who stepped out of the car was strapped with ammunition belts and carried an enormous shotgun across his shoulder.
At a glance, he was unmistakably a local professional Hunter, radiating expertise.
“Hey. How’ve you been?”
At Hank’s gruff greeting, the Hunter approached with a hearty laugh.
“Hank. First time hunting bears? They’re pretty terrifying, aren’t they?”
“Why should I be scared? That guy’s the one who should be.”
Hank gestured with his chin toward Soo-ho, who stood rigid with tension.
The Hunter’s eyes swept up and down Soo-ho’s frame, and he whistled with a skeptical expression.
“You sure about this? When you asked me, I thought you were bringing some heavyweight fighter. I’m not sure if he’s got the physical build to handle it.”
In places like Russia, where over a hundred thousand grizzlies inhabit the wilderness.
Locals often don’t even blink when they encounter bears in the forest.
Of course, it’s not because they’re superhuman and stronger than bears.
It’s because they encounter them so routinely that they’ve learned survival tactics through hard-won experience.
Bears are timid and intelligent creatures; by instinct, they rarely charge at opponents who display stronger presence or face them with confidence.
That’s why Russians don’t turn their backs to bears—instead, they shout and fight back with aggression, driving them away through sheer force of will.
In fact, in Russia’s treacherous Mountain Regions.
World-renowned mixed martial arts champions have trained since childhood by wrestling actual bears to build their courage—a terrifying reality that actually exists.
Never losing nerve in front of a massive predator.
In other words, they engrave an iron will to face primal fear without being consumed by it, rolling around with beasts until it becomes instinct.
The Hunter, who had witnessed countless fighters using bears as perfect mental training partners while exuding bestial intensity.
Naturally saw Soo-ho—who had gripped nothing but a baseball bat his entire life—as fragile, as if his composure might crumble the moment he faced a bear.
“Not my problem. Let’s just get moving.”
Hank snapped curtly at the Hunter and began leading the way up the Mountain Road.
But behind him, Soo-ho’s pupils were dilating like popcorn kernels popping.
‘Wait. Hank’s never hunted bears before either?’
Just moments ago, hadn’t he been spouting off like an expert who knew more about bear ecology and nutritional value than anyone else in the world?
Could I really trust this confident old Texan as he marched into the Mountain Interior?
Soo-ho found himself plunged into serious doubt once again.
* * *
From Soo-ho’s perspective, having been born and raised in Korea.
Tracking bear signs in the mountains was an unrealistic terror that belonged only in disaster films.
But the United States, where vast portions of the land are covered by pristine wilderness, was an entirely different story.
Across the United States, the Mountain Regions are home to tens of thousands of massive grizzlies and black bears.
With such enormous populations and frequent descents into human settlements.
Bear hunting in the United States isn’t simple poaching—it’s legitimate ‘legal’ activity conducted under strict State Government control.
To maintain ecological balance and regulate population numbers.
the State Government issues a limited number of permits each year during designated hunting seasons.
Of course, not just anyone can pick up a rifle and charge into the mountains.
After paying substantial fees and purchasing legitimate permits.
one must absolutely be accompanied by a professional guide with official State Government credentials, just like the veteran Hunter Hank had greeted.
Because such thorough safety measures and regulations exist.
When the season arrives, countless Hunters from across the United States and around the world flock in, pay enormous sums, and set out on bear hunts.
In other words, in a country like the United States, venturing into the mountains with equipment and a professional guide to hunt massive wild animals is quite common and one of the most popular extreme leisure sports.
Of course, that was merely the common sense of gun-wielding Americans.
For Soo-ho, who had spent his entire life gripping nothing but a baseball bat, such a notion remained separated by millions of light-years from his own understanding of the world.
Before long, we reached the Mountain Slope.
The Hunter withdrew a small powder canister from his waist and scattered it lightly into the air.
After sharply observing the direction the white powder drifted in the wind.
He began walking with the wind at his back, ensuring the bear could not catch the scent of human presence.
It was not merely tracking the footprints pressed into the snow.
The broken branches where the bear’s thick fur had brushed past.
The degree of dryness of the mud caked on the tree trunks.
Even the distinctive, pungent odor of the beast that grazed the tip of his nose.
Every sense he possessed was optimized solely for tracking his target.
Even his stride across the snow was measured and consistent to deaden any rustling sounds.
It was the movement of a true expert who could see through the heart of untamed nature itself.
How long did this breathtaking mountain ascent continue?
The Hunter leading the way suddenly raised his clenched fist upward.
It was a hand signal to stop.
In that instant, the silence of the Forest struck my ears with crushing force.
The Hunter slowly brought the shotgun slung across his back to the front and whispered in the lowest possible voice.
“There’s one nearby.”
At those words, Soo-ho’s heart began racing wildly.
Thump, thump, thump.
A deafening sound as if it might shatter my ribs and burst forth struck my ears.
This was an entirely different matter from the bears I had observed beyond the safety glass walls of the Zoo.
Breathing in the same space as a massive wild predator that could tear me to shreds at any moment, with no protective barrier whatsoever.
That primal terror seized my entire being, causing every hair on my body to stand on end.
Crack.
In the quiet Forest, a heavy sound of tree trunks being crushed echoed.
My gaze reflexively turned toward the source of the sound.
And.
Between the snow-covered Fir Forest, a pitch-black silhouette slowly emerged into view.
I held my breath.
The word “overwhelming” was insufficient.
A massive North American grizzly bear, standing on four legs with a bulk comparable to a compact automobile.
A so-called grizzly bear.
Not merely fat, but an enormous mass of muscle bunched together to survive in the harsh wilderness.
The thickness of its front paws planted on the ground matched my waist, and its thick neck and shoulder muscles rose like rocky peaks.
A colossal monster that easily exceeded five hundred kilograms.
The bear turned its head slowly, then sniffed the empty air, catching my scent.
“Grrrrrrr.”
The beast’s heavy breathing carried through the frigid air.
Soon, the bear’s blood-red eyes locked directly with mine.
‘What… is this.’
In that instant, my legs nearly buckled beneath me.
My blood ran cold as my brain screamed emergency warnings, demanding I flee without even looking back.
The 83 kilograms of muscle I had painstakingly built meant nothing.
One brush from those massive paws would shred me like tissue paper.
Only then did I truly understand why Hank had dismissed a Major League Pitcher’s 100-mile fastball as mere child’s play.
Before the absolute terror of death that crushed human reason itself.
I finally stood face to face with nature’s true monster.

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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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