The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 3

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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 3
The Independent League Baseball Tryout venue bathed in scorching sunlight—Raimonde Stadium.
Approximately 150 participants had gathered, each staking their dreams on this test.
The Major League scouts seated in the stands had already lost interest in the proceedings.
They scanned their clipboards with blank expressions or watched the players with perfunctory indifference.
The testing that had begun that morning fell short of expectations.
Occasionally, there were players with strong arms and quick feet.
Yet none displayed the overwhelming talent that would capture the attention of Major League or Minor League scouts.
Of course, since the Independent League Baseball Tryout was not directly hosted by the Major League, the probability of discovering a true gem was infinitesimal.
Most participants were either players who had already squandered multiple opportunities or those freshly recovered from injury.
The scouts’ eyes had already grown cold and calculating.
“This tryout is proving just as uninspiring as always. It’s been identical every year lately.”
One scout stifled a yawn as he spoke.
His colleague beside him nodded and flipped to the next player’s profile.
Then an unfamiliar name was called.
“Soo-ho!”
The scouts’ attention shifted to the profile in their hands.
“Soo-ho? Korean? Released from the KBO Minor League? At this age?”
Twenty-four years old, 183 centimeters tall, 73 kilograms. Specialties: base running and defense.
From the profile alone, he appeared to be just another unremarkable player from Asia—a cautionary tale of talent that never blossomed.
“Hah, now we’re getting players like this? What a waste of time.”
“Look at his build. Is he actually a baseball player? He looks like an aspiring model.”
“And he’s already twenty-four. Way too old for this….”
“No point even looking at his test results. He’s not going to make it anyway.”
Even the few scouts who had shown some initial interest in Soo-ho soon found his records and frowned in disappointment.
“His, his batting average is abysmal?”
“Seriously? Point-one average in the KBO Minor League? This is dire.”
“He’s barely even worth calling an amateur….”
Mocking remarks passed between them.
Yet amid the scouts’ ridicule and contempt, Soo-ho walked toward his position without hesitation.
Mark, seated in the stands, watched Soo-ho with a worried expression.
Above all, he had overheard the scouts’ conversation, and his teeth clenched.
‘Damn it. My prediction was right. With that physique, he has nothing to showcase….’
Soo-ho, too, was reading the atmosphere around him, yet he warmed up with composure.
His gaze remained fixed solely on the track before him.
Trusting that all his effort thus far would not betray him.
* * *
The first test was the 60-yard dash.
A core event that evaluates a baseball player’s explosive power and speed.
Standing at the starting line, Soo-ho displayed remarkable concentration despite his lean frame.
Meanwhile, the other Test Participants who glimpsed Soo-ho’s diminutive frame already felt hope kindling in their eyes.
‘At least I’ve already beaten one guy.’
They too found Soo-ho laughable.
Soon, at the Referee’s count of three, the bodies of those taking the test tensed in anticipation.
“GO!”
With the gunshot, Soo-ho’s body exploded forward.
The first couple of strides matched the other athletes, but as momentum built, he glided across the Track as if skating.
Light, fluid movement.
The way he cut across the Track like wind itself revealed just how thoroughly I had trained.
In this moment, my mind held only a single thought.
‘I can’t end it here. I’m not finished yet.’
Baseball hasn’t abandoned me.
No. If I work hard, if I prove myself, I won’t be abandoned.
The cold release notice, the Scouts’ eyes that said I fell short of expectations.
For me, these only became fuel for the flames.
The power erupting from my feet was yesterday’s blood and sweat.
And it came from the desperation of knowing this was my last chance.
I would sooner end my life here than give up baseball.
The Scouts initially watched me with indifferent eyes, but soon one by one began to lift their heads.
“W-what was that time?”
“Impossible! Look again!”
60-yard dash: 6.42 seconds. The Scouts’ eyes widened at the numbers displayed on the Scoreboard.
It was an overwhelming speed that only the most elite prospects in Major League Baseball recorded.
Considering that 6.7 to 6.8 seconds was typically considered excellent, my record was nothing short of miraculous.
“H-how is that possible? That kind of speed from a body like that?”
“Can that even happen? It’s completely different from his profile?”
“A hidden gem?”
It wasn’t just the Scouts. The other Test Participants who ran the 60-yard dash with me were overwhelmed with shock.
‘What the hell… Is he a track athlete or something?’
‘So damn fast…’
‘Damn it. I let my guard down. No, he’s just too fast. Superhuman level.’
The commotion among those gathered at the Stadium intensified with the next test.
The following test was vertical jump and standing long jump.
It was an event to measure an athlete’s lower body explosive power.
At the Referee’s signal, Soo-ho bent his knees deeply, then drove off the ground with fierce force and launched upward.
The moment his feet left the mat, all eyes converged on him.
Vertical jump: 92 centimeters.
The Scouts were astounded.
“Good heavens! He cleared 90 centimeters!”
It was a monstrous record that far exceeded the average 75 to 85 centimeters of Major League prospects.
The scouts were left speechless by the explosive power that erupted from his seemingly diminutive frame, far exceeding their expectations.
In the standing long jump that followed, he utilized the ground perfectly, launching himself with impressive distance.
Standing long jump: 3 meters 15 centimeters.
Once again, it was a record that even the most promising prospects in Major League Baseball would struggle to surpass.
He had far exceeded the benchmark of 2.8 meters, which was generally considered exceptional.
The scouts no longer mocked his profile.
In their hands, Soo-ho’s record sheet—which they had previously dismissed as trivial—was now held with renewed attention.
“What exactly is this player’s background?”
“No, seriously. Why would Korea release someone with such insane athletic ability?”
“His athletic prowess is definitely top-tier. That’s pure talent.”
“You can’t develop athletic ability like that through talent alone. He must have trained relentlessly.”
“At this level, hitting is just something you teach, right? What was the club that owned him doing?”
“What do you think? It’s the KBO. Everyone knows it. The KBO is improving gradually these days, but it’s still far behind America. They still force outdated methods on their players, and they often ruin talented ones.”
“Honestly, the real reason they haven’t adopted modern baseball is more about lacking the technology. And acquiring that technology costs astronomical amounts.”
In fact, when Major League Baseball brought KBO players into their organizations, they completely overhauled their mechanics.
The first reason was their inability to adapt to pitch velocity.
Second, it was the variety of pitch types and their movement.
And finally, it was a matter of efficiency.
The KBO tended to emphasize uniform stances over individual player characteristics.
Meanwhile, Major League Baseball pursued an approach tailored to each player—one that was most efficient and maximized their potential.
It was a system customized to the individual.
“Looks like he’s one of those types. Still… didn’t they really miss the mark with him?”
“They just threw away someone with that level of athletic ability?”
“But honestly, his stats in the KBO Minor League were pretty pathetic… His hitting is basically nonexistent…”
“If he’d been a track and field athlete instead of a baseball player, he would’ve made it big. Shame, really. Well, still worth keeping an eye on.”
The initial contempt and ridicule had vanished, replaced by expressions mixing astonishment, intrigue, and bewilderment.
In their eyes gleamed a subtle hunger—the possibility that this might be a prospect they couldn’t afford to miss.
Of course, that was still a big “if.”
In baseball, especially for a batter, hitting was the most crucial skill.
And Soo-ho, the very person who had just amazed these scouts, hadn’t yet demonstrated his hitting.
Yet even this was remarkable.
After all, Major League Baseball scouts valued innate athletic ability above all else.
No matter how skilled a player might be, if their fundamental athletic ability was lacking, their growth had clear limits.
But a player with overwhelming athletic ability like Soo-ho, even with technical flaws, could achieve explosive growth through proper systems and coaching.
That was what they believed in.
His natural speed and explosive power were the greatest qualities a baseball player could possess—something no amount of technical training could replicate.
In truth, Soo-ho’s extraordinary athletic ability couldn’t be explained by talent alone.
In his childhood, baseball was survival itself.
During his years at the Orphanage, without proper training equipment or professional coaching, I had trained my body relentlessly.
With no money, I simply pushed myself harder to keep playing baseball.
On the cold asphalt, in the vacant lot where dust swirled, I had driven myself to the absolute limit using only my body as a tool.
Because of this, my body bore not a single ounce of excess flesh—only dense, hardened muscle concentrated in the places where it mattered most.
As a result, there was no wasted motion in my movements.
Even the smallest gesture carried the accumulated strength honed over countless hours.
Until the Hitting Coach’s instructions had thrown everything into disarray, I had played baseball in the most instinctive and efficient way my body naturally responded to.
Through endless nights and days of swinging the bat, throwing the ball, and sprinting across grass slick with sweat.
My body had already laid the foundation to become a human with the highest level of athletic ability.
Of course, after becoming a professional and having a mechanism unsuited to my body implanted, even that athletic prowess had faded.
After finishing the first test and returning to the stands, Mark greeted me with a face brimming with emotion.
“Soo-ho. You’re truly amazing! What the hell have you been hiding?”
Mark jumped to his feet without thinking and shouted to the people around him.
“He’s my friend! This guy’s my friend! We! Oh, we already promised to grill some pork belly and kimchi later!”
Then he winked at me.
“How about a shot of soju?”
Even amid the scouts’ gazes and Mark’s cheers, I remained composed.
There was no hint of agitation on my face.
Because all of this was merely the beginning I had anticipated—and absolutely had to demonstrate.
Moments later, an announcement echoed through the stadium that the final test of the Baseball Tryout, a live game, was about to begin.
Having captured the scouts’ attention with my remarkable performance in the fitness test.
I was immediately called as the first designated hitter and stepped into the batter’s box.
The stadium was thick with tension.
Every scout’s gaze fixed upon me.
They marveled at my athletic ability, yet they still remembered the harsh reality written in my profile—a batting average in the single digits.
And I stood before the batter’s box, gripping the bat with familiar ease.
A smile bloomed as the solid grip settled into my hands.
I then took a light practice swing.
The smooth rotational sensation flowing from my shoulders through my elbows.
The awkward remnants of the forced batting mechanics from my Minor League days were gone.
Within the freedom gained after my release, I had swung the bat ceaselessly to reclaim nothing but the instinctive sensation that suited me.
Standing in the left batter’s box as a left-handed batter, my eyes gleamed sharp as a predator stalking its prey.
My gaze locked onto the pitcher on the mound.
‘Yes. This is exactly the sensation.’
That possibility in my swing that had led me to a first-round draft pick back in high school.
It was imperfect then, and it was imperfect now.
In fact, it was a complete mess.
But that didn’t matter.
What I needed to show the world now was the potential and possibility I possessed.
So.
‘Come.’
The momentum radiating from the batter’s box consumed the entire stadium.
It was the gaze of a predator stalking its prey for survival.

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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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