The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 26

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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 26
As the tying run scored, the Quakes’ broadcast team couldn’t hide their excitement.
[One RBI, timely two-bagger! Number 79, Oh Soo-ho, ties the game at one-all! But Bill, that batted ball just now… how is this possible?]
Caster John Miller shouted, unable to contain his excitement.
His partner Bill Heywood was equally visibly flustered.
[I’m doubting my own eyes right now.]
[But the report said he was a 20-point hitter….]
[It did….]
In scouting reports, a score of 20 meant below league standard.
Bat speed so sluggish he couldn’t overcome the ball’s velocity.
The ability to make contact at the barrel of the bat.
In other words, a player with neither contact nor impact—that sense of driving power—producing only weak ground balls or pop-ups.
That was what a 20-point batter looked like.
The commentator continued.
[That batted ball was absolutely not from a 20-point hitter. It wasn’t mishit either—it made perfect barrel contact. More than that, the bat speed was exceptional. And the exit velocity! A ground ball—not a line drive—piercing through the gap between the Second Baseman and Right Fielder like that… I apologize. My knowledge falls short; I’m not sure how to explain it.]
These commentators were still rookies, after all.
Unlike the professionals who broadcast Major League games, their limited knowledge was unavoidable.
[So ultimately, he’s not a 20-point player! That’s what you’re saying, right?]
[Exactly. At least in that regard, I can say with absolute certainty he is not.]
[And what’s more, that player’s real weapon hasn’t even come out yet, has it!]
The game resumed after that.
And the Pitcher on the Mound was breaking into a cold sweat.
‘Damn it. That bastard’s on Second Base now. And they said his hitting was mediocre!’
How was that mediocre?
It wasn’t like he’d swung the bat to produce the batted ball.
The exit velocity was as if he’d loaded a ball into a bazooka and fired it.
But the real problem was what came next.
It was that number 79—the very player who’d shattered the mental fortitude of elite prospect Kade.
It was even mentioned in the pre-game information sheet. Feet as fast as lightning, it said.
The Pitcher glanced anxiously toward the Dugout.
The sign came.
‘Ignore the runner and duel with the batter?’
Yeah. That was better.
A wise decision.
No point worrying about a runner with cheetah-fast feet and getting beaten up by the batter in the process.
‘Focus only on the batter.’
The Pitcher steadied himself and threw a slider as his first pitch to the next batter.
Crack!
“Strike!”
Perhaps sensing an opportunity, Brandon, the Quakes’ number 2 batter, swung hard but missed.
Instead of dwelling on regret, Soo-ho replayed the pitch in his mind.
‘The runner is abandoned. So that’s it?’
Not even a pickoff throw had come.
‘Good judgment.’
To minimize the mental wavering right now, focusing solely on the batter in front of me was infinitely better.
But that didn’t mean I had to stand idle.
‘I should actually shake up an opponent like that even more.’
Moreover, they’d practically laid out a welcome mat for me to shake things up as much as I wanted.
Even if it was a trap, there was no reason to avoid it.
And most importantly, it wasn’t two outs—it was one out.
The difference between a runner on Second Base and one on Third Base was like night and day.
If I could just reach Third Base, even if the next batter attempted a sacrifice, it would ultimately lead to a run.
In other words.
‘I can increase the probability of scoring.’
Second pitch.
The instant the Pitcher’s motion began.
Soo-ho exploded toward Third Base.
This time it was a fastball.
The opposing team was aware of Soo-ho’s movements.
Perhaps it was even a trap.
They’d caught the first pitch with a breaking ball instead of a pickoff throw.
They’d shown they were focusing only on the batter, and if he ran, they’d catch him.
Not the Pitcher. The Catcher.
That’s right. Though the Pitcher was focused on the duel with the batter.
An absolute partner that couldn’t be separated from the Pitcher no matter how much one tried.
The Catcher had been watching Soo-ho intently all along.
And when Soo-ho bolted toward Third Base, the Catcher’s lips curled upward in an instant.
‘He fell for it.’
But.
Thwack!
The moment the ball struck the glove.
The Catcher’s upturned lips sank right back down….
‘W-what? He’s already there?’
Soo-ho had already covered more than halfway between Second Base and Third Base.
In fact, he was nearly at Third Base.
“Damn it!”
The Catcher cursed and hurled the ball with all his might.
But was his mind getting ahead of him?
And had the runner’s speed completely exceeded expectations?
The throw sailed well over the Third Baseman’s head and began rolling into the Outfield.
Sliding into Third Base, I rose smoothly as the throw sailed far behind me, then advanced toward Home Plate with unhurried confidence.
I had experienced countless times in the KBO that the Outfielder couldn’t catch me even if they threw home.
Thus, I delivered the Quakes’ second run, putting them ahead by one point.
* * *
With my RBI and run, the Quakes’ bats ignited with fury.
But the opposing team was grinding out runs just as relentlessly.
Bottom of the fifth inning. The score was 4:6, with the Quakes ahead by two.
I stepped into the Batter’s Box as the leadoff hitter.
And in that moment.
The Opposing Team Manager signaled a Pitcher change to the Referee.
The Dugout erupted in murmurs.
It wasn’t even the end of the fifth inning, and this was already the third Pitcher.
The Starting Pitcher had collapsed mentally after giving up a run, surrendering four additional runs before being pulled.
The Second Pitcher had been pitching well without allowing any runs.
But the moment I stepped up, he was replaced.
So the message of this substitution was unmistakable.
They had to shut down this black-haired foreigner.
They had to suppress me so I couldn’t run wild.
I felt a brief wave of dizziness wash over me at the overwhelming emotion.
‘Ah….’
I couldn’t help but realize that they feared me.
‘How long has it been since this happened? Exactly….’
I would have to go back quite far into the past.
At least to my high school days—that was the last time.
Back then, everyone feared me.
They would deploy their best players to stop me by any means necessary, and various strategies would emerge constantly.
Perhaps because of that, I felt a genuine sense of pride for the first time in ages.
And what made it even more meaningful was that this was happening not in Korea, but in the United States.
‘They’re acknowledging me.’
Strictly speaking, of the Quakes’ six runs, I was directly involved in only two.
But that’s a misconception held by those who don’t understand the essence of baseball.
Baseball is dominated by atmosphere and momentum more than any other sport.
My plays had become the catalyst that unleashed the team’s previously dormant offensive power.
Every run that followed was merely an extension of that massive wave I had torn open alone.
So what the opposing bench feared wasn’t my two runs.
It was the hope those two runs breathed into the entire Quakes team.
Therefore, this Pitcher change as well.
If they allowed me to reach base here, it wasn’t just one runner getting on—
It stemmed from the anxiety that they could surrender a massive barrage of runs again.
And because I understood this too.
‘Get your head in the game. This isn’t the time to celebrate.’
I forced down the surge of elation.
The road ahead was long.
Just because I’d managed a hit and stolen a few bases to score didn’t mean I was ready to leap to the next level.
And so the game began.
The Pitcher threw a blazing fastball with everything he had from the very first pitch.
Thwack!
The ball embedded itself in the Catcher’s glove like a cannonball.
“Strike!”
The Scoreboard flashed the velocity.
98 miles per hour.
From the start, I had no intention of swinging as the leadoff batter.
If I swung at the new Pitcher’s first pitch,
my teammates stepping up to the plate afterward
wouldn’t know the new Pitcher’s velocity and movement.
Yet I was still shocked.
The word “fast” alone didn’t do it justice.
‘This place really isn’t easy.’
The previous two Pitchers had thrown fastballs at 90 miles per hour.
But this Pitcher was throwing 8 miles per hour faster than those before him.
The difference of 8 miles per hour as felt from the Batter’s Box
was as overwhelming as the difference between a car traveling at 200 kilometers per hour and a KTX train at 300.
‘Especially for a batter, the difference is even more pronounced.’
A 90-mile-per-hour pitch can be seen and hit.
At least, I could do it now.
There exists a window of time where my eyes track the ball leaving the Pitcher’s hand, my brain judges its trajectory, and then my swing command is executed.
But that 98-mile-per-hour pitch was different.
It was beyond the realm of seeing and hitting.
‘If I see it and swing, I’ll definitely be late.’
So this was a battle of prediction and reaction.
‘Still, I need to show something good.’
I wanted to prove I wasn’t a half-baked player who could only hit slow pitches.
So what should I do?
‘Just like last at-bat, I’ll use my whole body and make contact.’
The only problem was that the pitch was so fast I couldn’t see and hit it in time, so there was only one way.
‘I have to win the count.’
I was secretly startled at myself.
My mind was suddenly working at peak efficiency.
Back in my darker days, my mind wouldn’t work at all.
That’s why I made careless mistakes even in favorable situations.
But now, having overcome that disadvantage, my confidence was about to burst.
‘The Pitcher will probably throw another fastball for the second pitch.’
Using the difference in velocity, he’d quickly get two strikes.
Then, facing a desperate batter, he’d induce a strikeout with a breaking ball.
So.
‘I’m targeting this pitch.’
It was definitely a better approach than aiming for breaking balls with different movements.
‘The timing is… since the ball is fast, the moment I’m certain it’s a fastball, I’ll go for it.’
Second pitch.
The Pitcher, brimming with confidence as expected, unleashed another fastball with all his might.
A 98-mile fastball burrowed toward Soo-ho’s body!
‘Here it comes!’
The instant Soo-ho saw through the red seams of the fastball, he swung the bat as if he’d been waiting for this moment.
He unleashed the explosive flow of power perfected through his axe-like swing.
Crack!
It was solid contact again.
But unlike a home run or double, this wasn’t a ball that soared into the distance.
It was a low, fast ground ball—struck perfectly on the upper half of the ball.
Yet again, the velocity of the batted ball was absolutely ferocious.
The Pitcher’s tremendous 98-mile velocity and
Soo-ho’s flawless mechanism combined, amplifying that energy several times over as it rocketed back!
Screech!
The Second Baseman crouched low, determined to react this time.
But before he could even think of diving, the ball had already passed three meters to the left of his glove and was rolling toward the Right Fielder.
The Right Fielder, caught off-guard by how low and fast the grounder was, started a beat too late.
Through a diving catch, he barely managed to stop the ball.
Soo-ho reached First Base with ease.
It was just a single.
But Soo-ho clenched his fist, showing no regret whatsoever.
I’d made solid contact. I’d generated a powerful batted ball.
For now, that was enough.
‘Oh Soo-ho. You’ve truly grown.’
And the Quakes, riding on Soo-ho’s performance,
didn’t miss the moment the opposition faltered, unleashing another barrage of hits.
Final score: 4-12.
Soo-ho was directly involved in only three runs.
But everyone who watched this game knew.
That all twelve runs the Quakes scored had originated from Soo-ho’s hands.
Therefore, today’s game-changer was undoubtedly Soo-ho.

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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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