The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 40

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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 40
The Quakes’ victory in Game 2 of the Championship Series sealed their triumph.
Final series score: 2-0.
The Quakes had claimed the championship.
“Yeaaaaaah!”
Cheers erupted throughout the Stadium.
Of course, it wasn’t the deafening roar that accompanied a Major League World Series.
The Stands were largely empty—only Scouts and players’ families occupied the scattered seats.
A handful of San Jose neighborhood baseball enthusiasts offered modest applause.
There were no elaborate parades, no championship rings studded with diamonds, no broadcast cameras transmitting to the world.
This was the reality of Minor League Baseball.
The trophy handed over by League officials was smaller and cruder than expected.
A plain trophy with a light gold plating—the kind you’d see anywhere.
Yet the players handled it as reverently as if it were the Holy Grail, turning it over carefully and marveling at it.
“Wow… so this is the trophy.”
“It’s heavier than I thought?”
“I’ve never held one in all my years playing baseball….”
No matter how dominant these players had been in their amateur days, dominating their respective regions.
No matter that they’d entered the professional ranks, few had ever touched a championship trophy.
The reason was simple.
This was the United States.
Tens of thousands of amateur teams existed within the country, with hundreds of thousands of registered players.
Surviving among that vast constellation of talent and claiming the title of first place.
Was as difficult as plucking a star from the night sky.
Which was why, even if this was the lowest tier of an unglamorous League.
I came to understand after winning that the weight this symbol of first place carried was anything but light.
“Come on! Gather around for a photo!”
A Team Public Relations Department employee shouted, holding up a worn DSLR camera.
The players clustered together around the trophy.
They draped their arms around each other’s shoulders, adjusted their caps, and flashed their brightest smiles.
That’s when Soo-ho quietly tried to slip away to the back edge of the group.
I had achieved my goal.
I’d switched teams and secured victory.
That was enough.
I believed the spotlight rightfully belonged to the players who had been with this team from the start.
After all, I had joined late.
But.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going!”
Mark grabbed Soo-ho by the collar.
“What? No, I was just going to the back….”
“Stop talking nonsense and come here.”
It wasn’t just Mark.
The other players too.
Even the taciturn Casey dragged me forward.
The players parted the way as if they’d rehearsed it, pushing me to the very front.
Right to the center.
“This is your place.”
“That’s right. We wouldn’t have made it here without you.”
Someone forced the championship trophy into my arms.
I felt the cold touch of metal.
When I looked around in confusion, my teammates were smiling with genuine warmth.
“You’re the hero, aren’t you?”
Mark grinned and draped an arm across my shoulder.
My eyes widened, then curved into a smile.
An acknowledgment I couldn’t refuse—no.
An acknowledgment I didn’t want to refuse.
Because unlike the past, everyone wanted me now.
I steadied my resolve.
‘I’m glad I didn’t give up.’
And I was right.
I’d worked incredibly hard, and people recognized it.
The road ahead was still long, but this was enough for now.
I adjusted my grip on the trophy. It was heavy.
Not merely the weight of metal.
It carried the sweat of my past failures overcome and my resurrection.
The weight of my teammates’ hearts, unified as one.
“Say cheese! One, two, three!”
Click!
The flash erupted.
Beneath San Jose’s night sky, every Quakes player was beaming.
And at the center, I held the trophy high above my head.
With this, the long Low-A season concluded with a perfect happy ending.
But I knew.
This wasn’t an ending—it was merely a new beginning toward a far greater stage.
* * *
The players boarded the bus to head home.
But even after ten minutes, the bus showed no signs of departing despite the engine running.
“Why aren’t we leaving?”
“The Manager hasn’t boarded yet.”
Looking out the window, I could see Taylor standing alone in a distant corner, away from the bus.
He was making a phone call to someone, but his usual composure had vanished entirely.
He was anxiously gnawing at his fingernails.
Ring. Ring.
After a long dial tone, the other person answered.
-Hello?
“Yeah. It’s me. Kevin.”
Kevin. The Farm Director of the LA Dodgers.
He oversaw the entire Minor League system and made decisions on player promotions and releases.
He was the man who held the fate of Minor League players in his hands.
-Oh, Taylor. What’s the matter at this late hour?
“Did you check the results?”
-What results?
“Sigh… I sent an email. Check it first.”
Through the receiver came the sound of keyboard keys being tapped.
A moment later, Kevin’s voice became noticeably brighter.
-Oh. You won the championship? Congratulations. But you sent it ten minutes ago and now you’re asking if I checked it? That’s a bit much. I clocked out a while ago. Of course, I’m genuinely congratulating you. You had a great season.
“Let’s skip the small talk.”
-Why? Do you have another request? Want a bonus?
Kevin spoke in a joking tone, but Taylor’s voice was serious.
“Give me one more ticket to Arizona.”
Silence flowed through the phone.
-What? Didn’t I already process Soo-ho’s case?
“No. Mark Williams. Give me one more for him too.”
-Listen, Taylor. Are you serious? You’re sending three players from Low-A to Arizona? Isn’t that being too greedy?
Kevin’s voice sharpened.
It had to.
The Arizona Fall League was an elite track where each organization sent only about six or seven of their top prospects.
Usually, Double-A and Triple-A players formed the core, and it was difficult to send even one Low-A player.
But Casey Meyer was already confirmed.
And with Taylor’s strong recommendation, Soo-ho had been added to the roster.
And now Mark too?
Sending three players from the lowest Low-A level was unprecedented.
The bigger problem came after that.
-You know what it means to go to Arizona, don’t you? If they perform well there, next season’s plan changes immediately.
“….”
-Casey’s already getting promoted, and if Soo-ho does well too, both of them get promoted to High-A. But if one more gets promoted on top of that? The High-A roster will burst. We’ll exceed capacity.
Baseball is a sport with limited positions.
If three players push up from below, the three above must be released or lose their spots.
From the organization’s perspective, it creates a messy situation with prospect management.
Taylor’s request was an unreasonable ask that would shake the organization’s operational plan itself.
—I’m sorry, but that won’t work. We can see Mark next spring training and make a decision then. There’s no rush….
Taylor cut Kevin off.
“Just watch the footage I’m sending first. If you still think I’m being greedy after that, I’ll drop it.”
Taylor spoke with absolute conviction.
The magic that Soo-ho had created.
And Mark’s transformation—inspired by that magic, he had abandoned the pride of the cleanup hitter and chosen team batting instead.
Taylor was certain that once Kevin, a man who knew baseball, saw that footage, he wouldn’t be able to refuse.
“Watch it and call me back. I’ll be waiting.”
Taylor ended the call unilaterally.
Then he exhaled deeply.
‘Mark has to go too.’
He knew it was an unreasonable request.
Three players from the Low-A team, and while they were championship members, still.
‘Honestly, sending raw prospects like these to Arizona would be unprecedented.’
But Taylor had no intention of backing down.
This wasn’t simply about giving Mark, a prospect, an opportunity.
‘It’s all for Soo-ho.’
Taylor gazed at Soo-ho’s silhouette sitting by the bus window.
Over the past few days, Taylor had been forced to reevaluate Soo-ho.
He wasn’t simply a hardworking player or an altruistic one.
‘He’s a conductor.’
A maestro orchestrating the instruments on the ground, harmonizing the discordant notes into a single symphony.
But a conductor cannot produce any sound alone.
Only when there are musicians who understand and follow his direction does his value become truly proven.
‘The Arizona Fall League is a showcase for monsters.’
It’s a stage where individual talent is ruthlessly displayed.
Pitchers throwing over 100 miles per hour, batters hitting 150-meter drives.
Among such monsters, Soo-ho’s dedication and strategy could easily be dismissed as.
‘The desperate flailing of someone without real skill, or completely ignored.’
Of course, was Soo-ho’s skill lacking?
‘No, it isn’t. Just as he’s continued to develop rapidly in the short term, he’ll develop far more in Arizona. And his playing style will definitely work there too.’
He’d probably improve much more than he has now.
But Taylor wished Soo-ho’s growth could be even faster.
It was because of his age.
Of course, someone might think this way.
He’ll prove himself through skill anyway, so what does it matter if Mark joins?
But Taylor understood.
‘Faster growth comes not from baseball skill, but from peace of mind.’
Soo-ho was ultimately a foreigner.
No matter how well he spoke English or how well he got along with his teammates.
At his core, he was a Korean standing alone in a foreign land, without family or friends.
When training ended and I returned to the Dormitory, the emptiness and loneliness that permeated the barren room.
It was the greatest enemy silently eroding a player’s energy.
But if Mark were here with me?
‘Everything would change entirely.’
In this unfamiliar environment, new league, and cutthroat competition, having a true friend beside me I could open my heart to.
It was like having a comrade in arms whose back I could trust in the Battlefield.
Mark was my only family here and the shade where I could rest.
‘If I could channel all the energy I’d normally spend enduring loneliness entirely into baseball….’
With that stability as my foundation, my adaptation would accelerate exponentially.
Baseball is a mental sport.
It was only natural that a player with peace of mind soared higher on the Ground.
‘So Mark is absolutely essential.’
For me to avoid exhaustion in this distant United States and enjoy baseball all the more.
But was there truly a reason to go this far?
No, there wasn’t.
Moreover, if I performed well in Arizona.
I could start the season in High-A instead of Low-A.
Then Taylor would no longer mentor me or.
‘We might never even meet again.’
But when a person receives kindness, they must repay it.
No matter how individualistic America claims to be.
‘I’m not someone who doesn’t understand gratitude.’
Soo-ho had realized my dream.
Moreover, I myself thought this was enough at one point.
‘Yet I never gave up.’
And the result was perfect.
It proved my thinking wasn’t wrong.
‘So I should do at least this much.’
The issue was Kevin’s decision….
‘But is there really an issue?’
Taylor’s heavy expression lightened considerably.
‘Once he sees the game, he’ll want to send him regardless.’
Would someone like Kevin really stay silent after witnessing Soo-ho’s magic?
‘He’d have to step down from his position as Dodgers Farm Director.’
The Kevin I knew.
Would cling to that position until the very end.

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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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