The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 36

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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 36
The day of Championship Series Game 1.
The broadcast booth at San Jose Stadium lit up.
Caster John Miller and Commentator Bill Heywood took the microphone.
[Finally, it’s Championship Series Game 1 of the California League! Caster John Miller, greeting you from the home stadium of the North Division champions, the San Jose Giants.]
[Good evening, this is Bill Heywood, your commentator for today. At last, we’ve reached the final stage of this season, the championship round.]
[The Championship Series will be a best-of-three format. Bill, what are your thoughts on today’s game?]
Bill chuckled heartily.
[I think the Quakes will win today. And it’s not because I’m biased.]
[Oh? You’re predicting another upset after the Division Series. San Jose is truly a powerhouse team. What’s your reasoning?]
[Haha. This is a secret we can’t discuss on air, but didn’t we all experience magic yesterday?]
[Ah! You’re absolutely right. I was startled myself when the fatigue from the six-hour road trip vanished in an instant. And somehow, I have a feeling that magic’s effects will manifest again today.]
[Speaking of which, Soo-ho, I think we can now call this player a magician. What do you think?]
[I agree. Other nicknames will emerge in time, but right now, magician seems to fit perfectly.]
Magician. It was an unrealistic nickname.
But that’s what made it perfect.
Such a nickname meant that the player’s influence had already transcended the realm of data and analysis.
[Let’s first check the starting lineup for the visiting Quakes.]
1. Oh Soo-ho. CF.
2. Casey Meyer SS.
3. Luis Garcia. 2B.
4. Mark Williams 1B.
5. Alexander A Jackson. DH.
6. Miguel Sanchez C.
7. Carlos Rodriguez. 3B.
8. Derek Wilson. LF.
9. Anthony Rizzo. RF.
P. Ryan Pepiot.
[Now for the home team Giants’ lineup.]
1. Kyle Harrison. CF.
2. Marco Luciano. SS.
3. Grant McCray. RF.
4. Victor Ramos. 1B.
5. Luis Matos. LF.
6. Adrian Sugasti. 3B.
7. P.J. Higgins. 2B.
8. Andy Rodriguez. C.
9. Roman Murphy. DH.
P. Mason White.
[Both teams have fielded their best lineups, showing they won’t back down.]
“That’s certainly true. Since it’s the final series, there’s nowhere left to retreat. It’s expected to be fierce. Let’s confirm the rest during the game.”
* * *
Standing on the Mound was the Starting Pitcher, Mason White.
The right-handed pitcher had joined the San Francisco Giants a year ago as the third overall pick in the first round—a top-tier prospect.
A first-round third pick was different from an ordinary prospect.
It represented the organization’s future itself, one that the club poured millions of dollars into without hesitation.
It was a badge of honor marking a monster who stood at the pinnacle among thousands of players blessed with baseball talent.
And he had proven that expectation.
In less than a year since joining, he had skipped the Rookie League entirely and conquered even this Low-A level.
He was a true ace, receiving even higher evaluations than Jack Kozart, whose promotion to a higher league next season was already confirmed in the Division Series.
After finishing his warm-up pitches, Mason touched the brim of his cap and watched Soo-ho walk into the Batter’s Box.
‘That guy is the core of their team.’
Mason analyzed his opponent with cold precision.
Of course, the most famous name on the Quakes was Casey Meyer, the first-round Shortstop.
And if one expanded their perspective slightly.
‘There’s also Mark Williams, the cleanup hitter who still maintains his past reputation.’
But Mason saw Soo-ho as the true core.
The reason was simple.
The data spoke for itself.
The Quakes had become a completely different team starting in August.
It coincided exactly with when Soo-ho and Mark Williams joined.
The Division Series had driven that conviction home.
It wasn’t because of the numbers—nine at-bats, five hits, one home run.
‘That Korean knows how to shift the momentum of a game.’
This was a fact anyone who analyzed baseball with any depth would know.
Not knowing it would be foolish.
Soo-ho was clearly displaying a style of baseball far removed from what America was familiar with.
‘And it’s all working.’
So he absolutely had to shut him down from the first at-bat.
Moreover, the situation was overwhelmingly in his favor.
They had endured a grueling six-hour bus ride yesterday.
There was no way their condition was normal right now.
‘Still, I can’t be careless.’
That Korean’s feet are fast.
His bat speed is excellent too.
Right now, his body might feel heavy, making it difficult to display his full power.
But that type of player will exploit even the smallest opening.
‘I need to maintain my focus until the very end today.’
Meanwhile.
Soo-ho, standing in the Batter’s Box, was also sensing something unusual.
Having lived his entire life reading the room, he could easily infer this much.
‘Today’s game won’t be easy at all.’
The opposing players’ eyes burned with fierce intensity.
That was unmistakably the hunger to win.
‘Meanwhile, our Quakes players….’
They weren’t burning with the same willpower.
Of course, cooking together yesterday had brought them closer, made them more cohesive.
But it hadn’t managed to ignite their competitive spirit to a full hundred percent.
‘Because… it was simply too late.’
Had such a gathering happened a bit earlier, things might have been different.
It’s difficult for a person to change in just a single day.
‘Still, it’s fine. We avoided the worst, didn’t we?’
We’d nearly spiraled into disaster, but I’d forcibly shut that door myself.
Moreover, the team’s atmosphere was good.
‘If the game momentum turns favorable, everyone’s fighting spirit will ignite.’
And who was I, anyway?
The Quakes’ leadoff batter.
The vanguard.
Whether I could plant the flag I held in my hands somewhere in enemy territory would determine the entire flow of the game.
Whoosh.
I took my batting stance.
‘Come on.’
First pitch.
The ball leaving the pitcher’s fingertips clocked in at 98 miles per hour.
With a sharp crack, it pierced straight through the Strike Zone at outer knee height.
I didn’t even think to extend my bat.
“Strike!”
My expression hardened.
The velocity was similar to Jack Kozart’s from the Division Series.
‘But the weight behind it is on a completely different level.’
He wasn’t a top-round draft pick for nothing.
Second pitch.
The ball left the pitcher’s hand.
It appeared to follow the same trajectory as the 98-mile fastball from before.
But then, just before Home Plate, it deceptively lost velocity and dropped.
An 88-mile changeup.
“!”
I’d swung on fastball timing and whiffed badly.
“Strike! Two!”
In an instant, I was down 0-2.
A sigh erupted from the Quakes Dugout.
The pitching had been nothing short of overwhelming.
The Pitcher was toying with their leadoff batter like a child, as if he were the only one capable of such dominance.
The Pitcher had grown comfortable now.
Third pitch.
A 99-mile fastball, this time deliberately thrown high as a bait pitch.
An excited batter would have swung and missed at such a location.
But Soo-ho remained composed above all else.
Too high, he judged.
He didn’t move an inch.
“Ball!”
The count stood at 1-2.
The Pitcher showed no signs of frustration.
That pitch had been expendable from the start.
Now the real battle was about to begin.
Fourth pitch.
A changeup that drifted away on the outside.
Dropping as it moved away from the batter’s box.
For a left-handed batter, it was a devastating strikeout pitch.
Soo-ho’s shoulder twitched.
The moment he thought it was entering the Strike Zone and his bat began to extend.
It dropped slightly too early, and he forced himself to hold back the bat.
A sharp sound cut through the air.
“Ball!”
The count was 2-2.
The Pitcher’s brow furrowed.
As if to say: You didn’t fall for that?
In truth, Soo-ho had been deceived.
But as the leadoff batter with so much riding on his shoulders, he’d simply recovered from the mistake with every ounce of his strength.
And this result was decidedly favorable—for Soo-ho.
The Pitcher felt irritation building.
‘Damn. Stubborn bastard.’
Still, it was manageable.
At 2-2, the likelihood of a bunt was extremely low.
A fast-footed batter, and one with an exceptionally high probability of attempting a safety bunt—he could simply disregard that advantage.
What remained was the exit velocity of the ball.
‘If I overpower him, that’s all there is to it. Still, I can’t afford to be careless….’
The Pitcher’s eyes swept across John.
The deep area near the batter’s body came into view.
‘All I need to do is jam it right there.’
Throwing a fastball isn’t so simple.
But if I pushed my concentration to its absolute limit, it wasn’t impossible.
Truth be told, it’s not the best approach.
Because a Starting Pitcher—
especially the team’s ace—needs to throw one more pitch.
Pouring your soul into a single pitch means you might have to abandon everything else.
No matter how talented a prospect, they’re still a minor leaguer.
This wasn’t the time to master pitch control.
But the pitcher had a clear reason to get Soo-ho out.
To seize momentum.
‘All I need is to get this guy.’
Fifth pitch.
Windup!
The ball was released.
In that instant, the pitcher clenched his fist.
It was heading precisely toward the batter’s body, exactly where he’d wanted to throw it.
‘Got him.’
The reason he could be so certain was simple.
A high fastball inside.
Too late to see and react.
Since he’d already shown two changeups, the odds of the opponent looking for an inside fastball were infinitesimal.
And this was true.
Soo-ho wasn’t certain the inside fastball would come.
Quite the opposite.
At 2-2, still the pitcher’s count, he’d expected the pitcher to go for bait pitches.
As the fastball arrived, Soo-ho’s brow furrowed.
‘Damn. Lost the count.’
The pitch count battle.
The pitcher had clearly won the count against him.
But.
‘Just because I lost the count doesn’t mean I can’t get a hit.’
Whoosh.
A powerful, explosive swing tore through the air.
CRACK!
In the aftermath of the thunderous sound, wood chips scattered through the air.
As if an explosion had occurred rather than a hit.
The splintered fragments sprayed in all directions like rain.
The bat had shattered, unable to withstand the velocity.
With an inside fastball, you need to react faster than with pitches down the middle or outside, and his response had been late.
But Soo-ho didn’t hesitate.
Crack!
He burst forward toward First Base without hesitation.
Even though the batted ball hadn’t traveled far.
Even though it was rolling in front of the pitcher like a bunt.
And Soo-ho’s judgment was sound.
The pitcher couldn’t respond immediately.
The wood splinters scattering in all directions were obstructing his vision—one reason among many.
Of course, the white ball was faintly visible through the chaos.
But his feet simply wouldn’t move.
He was in shock.
He’d been certain of the strikeout, yet the batter had made contact.
And the terrifying bat speed he’d displayed was equally devastating.
These two shocks had lodged themselves in the pitcher’s mind, paralyzing his body.
“What are you doing! Handle it!”
Snapped back to awareness by the catcher’s shout, the pitcher rushed forward and fielded the ball.
His reaction was slightly delayed, but under normal circumstances, it would have been plenty of time to get the out at First Base.
However.
Thud!
The throw was accurate.
But the umpire spread both arms straight out.
Soo-ho’s feet had been just a fraction faster.
“Safe! Safe!”
Soo-ho returned to First Base, clenching his fist with fierce determination.
‘Thank goodness.’
It had been a completely dead ball.
Soo-ho acknowledged it himself.
What did it matter?
Normally he should have been out, but he’d won the race.
‘I’m glad I didn’t give up.’
That was the truth.
I never wanted to surrender to anything.
Whether it was a line drive headed straight at a fielder.
Whether it was an ordinary ground ball without any velocity.
Whether it was a weak infield fly.
Or like now, a completely dead ball.
Most batters would assume such balls were lost and give up early.
‘You could get injured, after all.’
Running after a dead ball was pointless anyway.
And if you got hurt pushing yourself to the limit, that was a loss.
But at least I never wanted to surrender to any batted ball.
For him, giving up was the same as failure.
‘He wouldn’t want to fail a second time.’
Thanks to that unwavering resolve, the results had been this remarkable.
Thump!
He thrust his fist toward their Dugout.
The players erupted in unison at the sight.
“Wooooooo!”
The Quakes’
their magician was weaving his spell flawlessly once again.

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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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