The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 31

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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 31
Top of the first inning, 2-0.
The Quakes had begun to take the lead.
First, the players in the Dugout rushed toward Casey Meyer as he returned from his home run.
“Wow, Casey! You crushed that one!”
“Insane! I’m telling you, his talent is on another level!”
But Casey, unmoved by the flood of praise, removed his helmet and settled into a chair in the Dugout.
It was an awkward moment, but the players shrugged familiarly, accustomed to his demeanor.
Casey then slumped into his seat and, as if to shut out all the commotion, draped a towel over his head.
It was my turn at bat.
The players showered me with unreserved cheers as I jogged in, brushing dust from my uniform.
“Soo-ho! Great hustle!”
“Your speed is insane! I’m so jealous!”
“Our vanguard is dominating the opposition today!”
Smack!
My back stung sharply from the dull impact.
The owner of that massive hand was Mark.
“Nice! Soo-ho! Absolutely nice!”
Mark was genuinely excited.
And why wouldn’t he be?
I was systematically dismantling every player in this Low-A who carried the title of ace.
Was I merely defeating them?
No.
I shattered their confidence and crushed their pride.
And that single hustle play just now had lifted the entire team’s morale from the depths.
This was precisely why the Quakes had surged with a winning streak in the season’s final stretch and made it to the playoffs.
I was about to respond to Mark’s praise when—
“Hey. Soo-ho. Come here for a moment.”
The cheers in the Dugout froze instantly.
A chill descended like ice water had been poured over everything.
The voice belonged to Taylor, who stood at the innermost steps of the Dugout.
And his tone carried no trace of praise—only a thin, razor-sharp fury.
Every player turned in shock to look at the Manager.
Every player on the Quakes knew it.
That once Taylor’s anger ignited, he showed no mercy.
I swallowed hard, caught off guard.
I walked toward him slowly.
‘What did I do wrong?’
That play was flawless.
I’d successfully reached base as the leadoff batter and scored.
I couldn’t find any reason to deserve a scolding.
I stood before Taylor with my hands clasped behind my back, bowing my head slightly.
It was my way of saying I was prepared to be reprimanded, regardless of the reason.
Taylor exhaled sharply, then clenched his jaw tight.
“No… what are you trying to do, getting yourself injured like that?”
I felt relieved.
Ah. He wasn’t going to scold me.
He was worried about me.
So I unclasp my hands and lifted my head with a smile.
“I was confident I wouldn’t get injured.”
“Hey. Do you decide whether you get injured or not? If that’s how it works, then why does the DL exist? Why do Major League players get injured?”
Taylor’s voice was filled with genuine concern.
He wanted me to lift the team’s morale.
But that didn’t mean he wanted me to burn out my career as a player.
“I know why you did it! But injuries aren’t something a player decides. Especially that play just now! A head-first slide into First Base is…!”
Taylor pressed his forehead in frustration.
“There’s data directly researched from Major League Baseball. Head-first sliding has twice the injury rate compared to feet-first sliding! The statistics say one injury occurs for every 249 attempts! Do you think broken fingers, shattered shoulders, and torn thumb ligaments are rare? First it costs you six weeks. Then it costs you six months. Those minor injuries pile up, and before you know it, your career as a player is over!”
Taylor was resolute.
“From now on, any hustle play with injury risk is forbidden. Especially diving into First Base—absolutely not.”
I shook my head at those words.
“Manager, I apologize. But I don’t think I can follow that order.”
“…What?”
Taylor’s eyes widened.
“Because that’s my strength.”
My voice was calm, but unwavering.
“This place is filled with monsters. To survive in this gap, I believe I must unleash my strengths without reservation.”
It was the truth.
The American Professional Baseball Stage was a den of monsters, and the higher you climbed, the density of talent exceeded imagination.
But Taylor was a manager.
Even if those words were right, he knew that if the result led to injury, it would be the worst outcome for me.
“Still, if you get injured, it’s all over!”
Strong conviction gleamed in my eyes.
I even struck a pose showcasing my biceps.
“My body is sturdy. And I know better than anyone else how to avoid getting injured.”
“So you’ve done this often? Well, looking at your play, it seems ingrained in your body, but still….”
“I want to play baseball for a long time.”
I looked directly at Taylor and spoke.
“And I want to play it ‘well.’ So please don’t worry.”
Taylor’s words caught in his throat.
Play it well?
I was already performing well.
I had joined in the latter half of the season and dominated, and now I was breaking the mental game of the first-string pitcher from the first inning.
I couldn’t have done any better than this.
But Taylor understood what I meant.
When I said I was doing well, it wasn’t simply about having a high batting average or hitting more home runs.
It wasn’t about those kinds of stats.
For a player to perform well, no matter how talented they are, they first have to get on the field.
What I was saying was that I wanted to continue showing the strengths I’m displaying now, and even if I move up to a higher league later, I want to secure a spot for myself.
Taylor exhaled a long sigh.
‘How do you stop a player with eyes like that?’
Especially for a player like me who had already made one mistake, there was no going back.
Even if there were, I couldn’t think of it that way.
“Fine. I understand. I understand.”
Taylor tapped my helmet with his rough hand.
“Just be really careful.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Our conversation was certainly unintended.
Taylor was genuinely worried about me.
And I had simply revealed my opinion. Or rather, my dream.
However, this was creating a subtle crack in the hearts of the Quakes players who wanted to take things easy.
* * *
Leaving Taylor’s worried encouragement behind.
I rushed to center field to take my defensive position.
The air in the Dugout had become subtly heavy from my conversation with the Manager just now, but my focus remained completely sharp.
[Now it’s the bottom of the first inning. The Sixty-Sixers are attacking. Ryan Pepiot, the Quakes’ starting pitcher, takes the mound with a 2-run lead.]
The pitcher, perhaps tense despite the solid run support.
Ran up the count to balls against the leadoff batter, Trevor Johnson.
The count was 3-1.
The batter pulled the fastball he’d been waiting for as it came down the middle.
Crack!
With a sharp explosive sound, the batted ball flew between the left fielder and center fielder.
It was a perfect left-center gap shot—a double for sure.
“Ugh…”
A groan erupted from the Quakes Dugout.
The moment of contact made it impossible not to know it was extra-base hit.
And with no outs and a runner on second, it was a crisis from the start.
But at that very moment.
The instant I heard the crack of the bat, my feet moved first.
While other players tracked the ball’s trajectory with their eyes.
I had already predicted the landing spot from the sound alone and was sprinting at full speed.
The ball was sinking rapidly.
But Soo-ho didn’t slow his pace.
Instead, he drove off with his final step and hurled his body through the air.
The same way he’d dove headfirst toward First Base moments before.
A diving catch that burned his body to ash.
Skiiiiid!
Soo-ho’s glove, sliding across the grass, snagged the ball just before it hit the ground.
“!”
Silence fell over the Stadium.
What should have been a bases-loaded double play became one out with no runners on.
The Pitcher on the Mound covered his mouth with his glove in disbelief.
Then he removed his cap and applauded Soo-ho vigorously.
The other players were shouting “Nice play!”
All except two.
One of them was Mark.
His jaw hung wide open.
‘No way. I just heard him get warned, and now he’s diving again?’
And the other one was….
Taylor was barely supporting his forehead with his finger.
Without it, his head would have dropped forward sharply.
‘Damn it… That stubborn bastard. Could you at least pretend to listen?’
But Soo-ho simply brushed the grass from his uniform and returned to his defensive position as if nothing had happened.
Then he raised his index finger.
One out.
Perhaps thanks to Soo-ho’s insane defense.
The Pitcher, regaining momentum, struck out the second batter Jorge Mateo on three pitches.
Next came the third batter Brian Lopez.
A formidable hitter.
In a five-pitch battle, the Pitcher threw a slider, but the batter connected cleanly.
Crack!
A heavier crack echoed across the field than the first batter’s hit.
‘Extra-base power. Line drive.’
The moment Soo-ho heard the sound, his feet moved again.
Without taking his eyes off the ball, he sprinted backward toward the Fence.
The ball rocketed forward, soaring well over the center fielder’s head.
Only three or four strides remained to the Fence.
‘I’ve got it.’
Soo-ho didn’t slow down.
Instead, he calculated the ball’s landing point and the distance to the Fence perfectly.
Just as he leaped at the last moment to snag the ball precisely.
Crash!
My back slammed directly into the fence.
With a dull impact, I crumpled to the ground.
Silence fell over the stadium once more.
The batter was already rounding second base.
Then, still collapsed against the fence, I slowly pushed my upper body upright.
And I thrust my glove high into the air—the ball secured in its pocket.
Three outs. Inning over.
“Ahhhhh!”
A cry of anguish erupted from the Quakes Dugout.
Taylor gripped his head in both hands.
How many times had his heart leaped in just the first inning?
Of course, my first diving catch had actually been a low-risk play—I’d tracked the ball perfectly and absorbed the impact cleanly.
The second collision with the fence, too, had been a calculated maneuver, hitting back-first rather than head-on to maximize shock absorption.
So my assertion that I wouldn’t get hurt had proven correct so far.
‘Still, it’s nerve-wracking.’
Especially after hearing my declaration that I’d keep playing like this.
‘Either way… I got through the inning.’
But there was something remarkable.
‘Huh?’
When Taylor looked at his players.
They watched me enter the dugout, my uniform caked in dirt and grass stains, with eyes that still couldn’t comprehend what they’d witnessed.
Yet hidden in the corner of those gazes was unmistakable envy.
The ability to burn with such passion.
The conviction in one’s own play.
And that emotion was unmistakably.
Exactly what Taylor himself had always wanted from his players.
‘Of course, I can’t jump to conclusions yet.’
People don’t change that easily.
But in just one inning out of nine.
I’d shaken the entire team’s atmosphere in that single frame.
There was no denying the start was exceptional.
The moment I returned to the dugout, I sought out Taylor.
“Manager. This time…
I wanted to reassure him about the safety of my play.
But Taylor shook his head.
“No need to explain. I understand.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll head back out then.”
Taylor exhaled as he watched my retreating figure.
‘Should I just substitute him out?’
Wouldn’t it be better to simply bench Soo-ho and ease my mind?
But that wasn’t an option.
There’s a saying in baseball that great hitting often follows stellar defense.
I had an instinctive sense that Soo-ho’s brilliance wasn’t finished here.

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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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