The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 4

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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 4
Soo-ho at the Batter’s Box.
The Pitcher on the Mound began his wind-up.
His arm whipped back, and moments later, a heavy fastball rocketed toward the Catcher.
92 miles per hour. 148 kilometers per hour.
In the KBO League, such velocity would be considered a blazing fastball, yet to the Major League Scouts, it was merely ordinary.
Soo-ho locked his gaze onto the Pitcher’s fingertips.
His body remained motionless, as if fused with the bat itself.
The first pitch—a fastball down the middle from the Pitcher. Soo-ho swung without hesitation.
Whoosh!
The bat cut through the air cleanly, meeting nothing but emptiness. A massive whiff.
A faint sigh rippled through the Stands.
Disappointment settled once more across the Scouts’ faces.
“His hitting is really the problem. The athleticism is monstrous, but his batting is…”
“Well, that .100 batting average in the KBO 2nd Team didn’t come from nowhere.”
“What a shame. If he could hit like that with his physical tools, we’d sign him on the spot.”
The Pitcher threw his next offering—a sweeping curve that dropped like a waterfall.
Soo-ho swung again, but another whiff.
The count: 0-2. Two strikes in an instant.
Soo-ho showed no panic. Instead, he nodded slightly, his expression suggesting he was finding his rhythm.
It’s fine. I haven’t even started yet.
This was my first real at-bat in two and a half months.
These two whiffs were merely the process of awakening my senses.
So I simply focused on finding that rhythm.
I could hear the Scouts’ disappointed murmurs around me, but I didn’t lose my composure.
The opponent’s fastball isn’t particularly impressive.
Having shed the bad habits that had constrained me, I could handle this easily enough.
The third pitch was a tempting ball on the outside corner.
I didn’t budge.
“Ball.”
Next came a fastball deep inside.
I minimized my body rotation and met the ball’s trajectory with a compact swing, fouling it off.
I’d regained some sense of the strike zone, though it still wasn’t quite there.
Of course, if a hittable pitch came, I’d swing without hesitation.
But with borderline pitches, fouling them off while sharpening my feel was the better approach.
Another breaking ball on the outside, low.
Anticipating it would miss, I didn’t offer.
Another foul.
Even though the Pitcher had thrown what he considered a confident breaking ball and I hadn’t offered, he exhaled in bewilderment from the Mound.
And then.
Fifth pitch, sixth pitch, seventh pitch. The count continued to mount.
Soo-ho expertly picked out the bait pitches, and anything that dared enter the strike zone, he cut with relentless precision.
As time wore on, his batting eye came alive, and with each pitch that came his way, he carved it foul while building his rhythm at the plate.
Ninth pitch. The Pitcher’s arm rotated slowly, as if reaching its limit.
A slow curveball. Soo-ho’s eyes gleamed, and without hesitation, he unleashed his swing.
Crack!
This time, it was different from the previous mishits.
The ball exploded off the bat with a deep, resonant sound, soaring into the depths of Right Outfield.
Soo-ho glided effortlessly to Second Base with lightning-quick footwork.
‘That’s it! I nailed it!’
Standing on Second Base, Soo-ho’s thoughts crystallized.
What he’d just accomplished was simply shedding the stale, awkward habits forced upon him since joining Professional Baseball.
But in doing so, the instinctive feel he’d lost had returned.
This was the very potential he’d wanted to showcase in the United States.
* * *
Soo-ho’s line drive stretched across the field.
From the Stands, a subtle gasp escaped.
The Scouts nodded or shook their heads.
The Scouts dispatched to this Independent League Tryout were not men of exceptional discernment.
In the past, even Independent League Tryouts had attracted Scouts of keen judgment.
But as the Tryout system changed, Baseball Clubs now sent those of lesser importance—
In other words, Scouts lacking in ability—in the vast majority of cases.
They lacked the capacity to pierce through Soo-ho’s true potential.
“He’s just swinging with his arms the whole time. Sure, that naturally gives him good contact ability, but there’s no power behind it. This time he got lucky.”
“At twenty-four years old… it could take years just to teach him proper hitting mechanics. Is he worth the investment?”
“Seems difficult. His hardware is genuinely excellent, but I doubt the Baseball Club will approve his signing.”
Other Scouts pulled up footage of Soo-ho from the Minor League and conversed.
“Back then he used his lower body.”
“But why is he using his lower body like that? It’s worse than not using it at all.”
“Whether then or now, it’s a complete mess. Ugh. It’s frustrating just watching.”
As the Scouts exchanged disappointed remarks, an elderly man sitting in the Stadium Corner quietly spoke.
His name was Frank Lambert. Among Major League Scouts, he was called a living legend.
For decades, he had discovered countless unknown players and developed them into Major League stars.
Catching his eye meant the possibility of entry into the Major League.
Like a seasoned Scout, he understood better than anyone how vital a prospect was to a Baseball Club.
He had experienced countless times how a single prospect could transform a team’s entire future.
His gaze had always been different from others’.
The Young Assistant sitting beside Frank Lambert spoke carefully.
“This player failed even in the Korean Minor League, and he really is a complete disaster, isn’t he?”
Frank was not watching the game.
Instead, he slowly flipped through the paper in his hand as he answered.
“That hit just now came from swinging with just your arm, right?”
“Huh? I saw him miss the first pitch, so I wasn’t really paying attention. It was pretty sloppy, honestly. But somehow a hit came out anyway.”
Frank chuckled and spoke.
“Then pay close attention to his next at-bat.”
Soo-ho’s second at-bat arrived.
Crack!
A heavy crack echoed through the Stadium.
This time too, Frank didn’t watch the ball and spoke.
“A line drive straight at the shortstop, right?”
The Assistant checked the field with surprised eyes.
It was indeed a line drive right at the shortstop.
“Yes. And he really did swing with just his arm. Why would anyone play baseball like that?”
The Assistant continued to grumble, unable to understand.
Frank shook his head.
“You can’t look at it that way. Sure, it went straight at the defense, but with just an arm swing, he produced a line drive at that speed. Do you have any idea how remarkable that is?”
“You predicted the ball’s velocity just from the sound… didn’t you….”
A subtle excitement mixed into Frank’s voice.
“In baseball, hitting requires coordination of the entire body. You gain rebound force from the ground through your lower body, rotate your hips, and transfer that power through your arms and wrists to maximize bat speed. But this guy right now is producing that kind of line drive using almost none of his lower body and torso rotation—only the power of his arms and instantaneous speed.”
“Is that really so impressive? Isn’t it more like foolish technique?”
The Assistant asked, still perplexed.
His gaze remained fixed on Soo-ho’s small frame and his history of being released from the KBO 2nd Team.
The Assistant was also of a generation that had internalized American baseball’s modern culture.
Hitting without using the entire body seemed abnormal to him.
Because no one in America displayed that kind of swing.
Frank saw through the Assistant’s complacent perspective and continued.
“You know as well as I do that promising prospects in America master perfect mechanics from childhood.”
“That’s right.”
“But this guy right now is producing quality line drives using only his natural strength and pure athletic ability—without that foundation.”
It was like a car with an engine capable of running at 200 kilometers per hour being limited to 100 kilometers per hour.
Most players, when swinging with just their arms, either miss the ball entirely or produce weak fly balls or ground balls at best.
“This guy is producing a very satisfactory ball velocity with just his arm strength. And he’s done it twice in a row.”
Frank rose slightly from his seat, never taking his eyes off Soo-ho.
“Think about it. What would happen if this guy could properly harness the full power of his lower body and core rotation?”
He would achieve a quality of contact incomparable to now.
Not merely generating singles.
He possessed the potential to reach for extra-base hits—even home runs.
The fact that his innate athleticism and raw power were at this level.
Like a rough gemstone that, once cut and polished by technique, would become a jewel—something no amount of technical training alone could produce.
Frank’s eyes gleamed like a predator who had finally discovered massive prey after a long hunt.
Yet the Assistant still couldn’t comprehend it.
“But there’s another problem. This player isn’t young, but he’s not old either. And even in the KBO 2nd Team, professional baseball is professional baseball. He’s already failed there….”
Could he truly survive in the United States, where the level was far superior?
Honestly, wasn’t it already too late to pursue a career as a baseball player?
The Assistant deemed it absolutely impossible.
Just like the other Scouts.
Frank smiled faintly.
“You don’t trust me?”
“N-no, that’s not it. But this does seem a bit strange, doesn’t it?”
“What’s strange about it? Even in the KBO, first-round draft picks are talents that the Major League itself takes interest in. They’re certainly the kind of players who could come to the United States instead of staying in the Korean league.”
“W-well, that’s true, but….”
“If not this, are you insulting the history of the Major League?”
“I-I never said that!”
“Before the Major League understood the importance of mechanics, players like this were the majority. And that importance didn’t become apparent until the 2010s at the earliest. Then it surged rapidly from the 2020s onward as technology advanced. Simply put, some of the legends from before the 2000s that we commonly know—like Babe Ruth and Rickey Henderson—aren’t that different from this player.”
Frank continued quietly.
“Tell me. What do you think would have happened if Babe Ruth had possessed modern technology?”
“He would have hit more home runs….”
Babe Ruth’s career Major League home run total was 714. He ranked third all-time.
“What about Rickey Henderson?”
The Assistant fell into thought for a moment.
Rickey Henderson was already a player boasting overwhelming stolen base records and on-base percentage.
With 1,406 career stolen bases, he held the undisputed first place.
Moreover, he possessed an exceptional career on-base percentage of .401.
Yet his career batting average was .279.
But if he had possessed modern baseball mechanics.
Already legendary for his excellence, he would certainly have achieved even more absurd statistics.
“Y-you’re saying this player has that kind of l-legendary talent? Isn’t that going too far?”
“I’m talking about potential. No one knows what the future will bring.”
“Ha ha. That’s true.”
“But at least the ceiling of his potential could reach those players I just mentioned. That depends on the player himself and requires luck as well. And we are Scouts. What is a Scout’s role?”
“T-to find players with potential….”
“Exactly. Simply find players with potential and sign them.”
Soo-ho was focused on the game.
Therefore, he had no idea that in the Stadium Corner, a legendary Scout’s profound insight and expectations had begun to form around him.

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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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