The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 46

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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 46
“Let me give you a brief explanation before we start filming.”
Ben tapped his tablet and began to speak.
Soo-ho and Mark listened intently, both dressed in motion capture suits.
“You’re probably wondering why we use Minor League data when our game holds the official Major League license. After all, we could have captured all the superstars’ motions.”
That would have been the obvious choice.
“There are two reasons. First, we need a standard baseline.”
Ben pulled up a complex graph on the screen.
“Superstars all have such distinctive forms—what we call ‘habits’ or ‘quirks.’ We need the most textbook-perfect, unadorned form to serve as our engine’s reference point.”
“I see.”
“Second, it’s because of the new player development mode we’re rolling out this update.”
Ben added with a smile.
“User-created rookies can’t move like seasoned superstars. We need that raw, hungry feeling—quick, explosive, dust flying everywhere. The motion of a true rookie with genuine hunger. Established stars can never capture that feeling, no matter what.”
Soo-ho and Mark exchanged glances.
When it came to hunger and drive, no one was more suited than they were.
“Understood.”
“Then let’s start with batting. The bigger guy first?”
Ben pointed to Mark.
Mark cleared his throat and stepped up to the batter’s box, gripping the sensor-equipped practice bat.
“Just relax. Use your natural swing.”
Mark took a deep breath.
Though it was just motion capture for a game, dozens of cameras were rolling all around him.
Still, this was nothing.
He’d performed this swing hundreds of times before—nerves wouldn’t be an issue.
He settled into his batting stance and swung the bat without hesitation.
Whoosh!
The sound of the bat cutting through the air echoed sharply through the studio.
“…!”
The engineers and Ben monitoring the screens widened their eyes in shock.
“Did you see that speed?”
“That’s no joke.”
They’d seen countless players while developing this game.
College players, Independent League players, Minor Leaguers.
But the swing Mark had just displayed felt like it was on a completely different level.
Ben asked excitedly.
“Excuse me… player? Are you perhaps a top-tier prospect?”
Ben’s name was Ben.
Before he joined this game development project, in fact.
He’d worked as a talent analyst for a Minor League Team.
Since games like this prioritize authenticity, it was common for someone with his background to take on such a role.
Above all, his eye was precise—honed by analyzing thousands upon thousands of batters.
This giant before him was operating on a different level entirely.
Mark tilted his head in confusion.
“Sorry?”
“Your swing is extraordinary. Do you have any titles or achievements worth mentioning?”
Mark scratched the back of his head, caught off guard by the sudden interest.
“Oh, I’m embarrassed to say…”
“It’s fine. I need it for data classification purposes. Go ahead.”
Mark hesitated, looking sheepish, before finally opening his mouth.
“Well… I won MVP at the High School Invitational once.”
“…Really?”
The Motion Capture Studio stirred with energy.
Winning MVP there meant he’d been the best high school player in the entire United States that year.
“Wow… that explains it. The class is different.”
“The real deal showed up.”
Mark’s lips twitched upward at the admiring gazes around him.
It was inevitable.
In truth, in the Professional Baseball World—
especially in the Minor League—nobody remembers past glory.
Only current performance and survival matter.
He’d received brief attention during the Baseball Tryout.
But after that, he’d faded into obscurity.
Yet hearing ordinary people offer such genuine admiration stirred back the self-worth he’d forgotten.
“Let’s look at the results. Would you come over here?”
Ben called both of them over to the monitor.
The screen displayed Mark’s skeletal structure—his skeleton—along with the swing trajectory and various numerical data rendered as graphs.
“We didn’t actually hit a ball, but if we run a simulation assuming solid contact with this speed and rotational force… we get exit velocity over 100 miles per hour and a distance of 450 feet—about 137 meters. That’s Major League slugger-level. It’s incredible.”
Of course, it wasn’t perfect.
“However… if you look here, there’s a tendency for your upper body to open slightly too early, and your balance leaks some power instead of transferring it 100 percent.”
The cutting-edge equipment didn’t lie.
It laid bare not only Mark’s strengths but also the rough edges still waiting to be refined.
Yet Ben actually applauded, as if delighted by this very fact.
“That’s exactly why it’s better! If it were too perfect, there’d be no fun in developing a rookie. Raw talent with Major League power but technical room for improvement—you’re the exact ‘power-type rookie’ model we’ve been searching for.”
Mark stared intently at his swing data.
Confirmation that his power worked.
And hints about where to improve.
This part-time job was far more valuable than he’d expected.
“Perfect! Let’s save the data and move on to the next subject.”
Ben’s gaze turned toward Soo-ho.
He’d already obtained the power-type batter’s data.
What they needed now was a contact hitter, and Soo-ho fit that profile perfectly.
Given his frame, he clearly wouldn’t generate the kind of raw power Mark possessed.
“Whenever you’re ready, let’s begin.”
Soo-ho loosened up casually and gripped the bat.
The atmosphere in the Motion Capture Studio was markedly different from moments before when Mark had gone.
The Staff Members checked equipment or chatted among themselves.
They paid Soo-ho little attention.
How could they? Mark had just delivered an overwhelming performance.
By comparison, the Asian player’s physique appeared utterly ordinary.
Yet Soo-ho was too elated to notice the indifference around him.
He’d witnessed Mark’s data laid bare on the screen.
All he wanted was to test himself against this machine that pinpointed his exact flaws.
Soo-ho steadied his breathing and took his stance.
‘The mechanism Alex taught me—exactly as instructed.’
No wasted motion, only the most efficient path.
Soo-ho’s bat sliced through the air.
Thwack!
It was a clean swing.
But the reaction was lukewarm.
There was no thunderous crack that tore through the air like Mark’s, no oppressive force that made observers shrink back.
‘Hmm, just ordinary.’
The Staff Members shared the same assessment.
Their judgment, being non-experts, relied on sound and wind.
How forcefully the air rushed in the bat’s wake.
How resonant the sound.
By those standards, Soo-ho’s swing was far too quiet and subdued.
It made sense, of course.
Mark’s frame was considerably larger than Soo-ho’s.
His natural strength surpassed Soo-ho’s as well.
Ben felt the same way.
‘The bat speed is remarkably fast, but… the swing form is almost too textbook, isn’t it?’
It lacked personality.
Negatively speaking, it was bland; positively, it was fundamentally sound.
Something felt incomplete.
The unmistakable scent of a rookie who hadn’t yet discovered his own style.
Ben’s eye was precise.
Soo-ho had merely internalized the mechanism Alex had taught him.
He hadn’t yet reached the stage of refining it into a swing form perfectly tailored to himself.
No—in fact, he possessed no information whatsoever about which swing form would best unlock his own mechanical potential.
Yet Ben found that aspect rather appealing.
‘That’s it! That’s exactly what we’ve been looking for!’
A flashy swing doesn’t suit a rookie player created by a user for the first time.
Rather, a form as blank as a canvas with only the fundamentals locked in was perfect.
Ben called out with a satisfied smile.
“Excellent! That was exactly the rookie swing we’ve been searching for! Should we come look at the data first?”
Ben approached the monitor with a light heart.
He assumed there would be ordinary numbers displayed.
But.
“…Huh?”
Ben’s eyes widened as he stared at the screen.
The Engineer beside him stood with his mouth agape.
“W-what is this?”
The data told a story completely opposite to their expectations.
[Energy Transfer Efficiency: 99.8%]
[Unnecessary Motion Loss: 0.0%]
[Center Shift at Impact Moment: Perfect]
The graph shot up wildly.
It meant that no loss whatsoever occurred in the process of transferring the power generated by the body all the way to the tip of the bat.
“Manager, the graph is… a straight line? There’s no section where power leaks out.”
“What? Is this an error?”
Ben felt a chill run down his spine.
That swing, which appeared ordinary on the surface.
When broken down by internal data, it operated with a mechanism more precise than a machine.
The reason the sound wasn’t loud wasn’t because the power was weak, but because it minimized air resistance and traveled the shortest distance possible.
“W-wait a moment. It seems the sensors might be malfunctioning!”
Ben cried out urgently.
He couldn’t believe it.
Even Major League MVP-caliber players don’t achieve this level of efficiency.
“I’m sorry, but would you mind swinging a few more times?”
Soo-ho nodded without understanding and returned to the Batter’s Box, swinging the bat again.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
Still concise and quiet swings.
But the faces of Ben and the Engineers watching the monitor grew increasingly pale.
“…This can’t be real.”
On the screen, the graph lines representing Soo-ho’s swing trajectory overlapped.
Whether he swung twice, three times, or five times.
They aligned perfectly over the previous swing’s trajectory without even a single millimeter of deviation.
“T-the machine isn’t broken.”
Ben muttered in a trembling voice.
This wasn’t a machine malfunction.
This machine, known for its infallibility, was delivering its verdict.
That Asian player’s mechanism was flawless.
Ben couldn’t tear his eyes from the monitor as he asked urgently.
“So, did you perhaps win the High School Invitational MVP award four times?”
American high schools operate on a four-year system.
And the High School Invitational is held once a year.
So winning it four times meant something.
It meant asking if he’d been an elite prospect who dominated competitions across the entire United States for all four years from enrollment to graduation.
Because that’s what the data was telling him.
This wasn’t human efficiency.
But Soo-ho simply shook his head calmly.
“That’s not it.”
“Pardon?”
“I graduated from High School in Korea, you see.”
“Ah… Then you must have dominated in Korea? Sweeping high school tournaments and MVPs?”
“I did do that… but I failed afterward.”
“What?”
Ben’s expression went blank.
Soo-ho continued matter-of-factly.
“I was drafted into Professional Baseball, but I only stayed in the Minor League before being released. That’s why I came to the United States.”
“….”
Ben couldn’t close his mouth.
They’d discarded a player with such a perfect mechanism?
In that moment, an odd thought flashed through his mind.
‘Is Korean baseball at a higher level than the Major League? How could they release a player like this?’
That couldn’t possibly be true.
Then there was only one answer.
Either the Scouts and Coaches over there were collectively blind, or they’d failed to recognize this player’s true worth.
There were many questions, but work came first.
Ben cleared his throat and regained his composure.
“Ahem. Anyway, come over here and look at the results. I’ll explain.”
Soo-ho stepped in front of the monitor eagerly.
“To be honest, even the machine couldn’t find any issues. This equipment is also showing no corrections needed. Your energy transfer efficiency is nothing short of perfect.”
But Ben’s eyes sharpened immediately.
Now it was the perspective of a former power analyst, not data.
“However, I have two concerns. First, your batting form isn’t maximizing your mechanism.”
“…Form?”
“Yes. To put it simply, your mechanism is a sports car, but your form is an economy car. It’s far too textbook, too restrained. That’s actually a negative. You’re suppressing your own explosive energy efficiency.”
Soo-ho nodded.
He was right on the mark.
I was trying to maintain the simplest and safest form possible so my body could fully internalize the mechanics.
This had been my original plan.
“And second is… your swing trajectory.”
Ben pointed to the slope of the graph with his finger.
“It’s too flat. It’s a perfect level swing, but it doesn’t match your mechanism. If you keep swinging like this, I have a feeling you’ll be hitting a lot of ground balls. Was that intentional?”
“Ah….”
I let out a short exclamation.
He was a game director first, but he had an exceptional eye for baseball.
‘And I did intend it.’
But I was so focused on maintaining the fundamentals that I couldn’t apply variations yet.
Besides, there hadn’t been time for adjustments….
I’d joined late in the season and went straight into the playoffs shortly after.
I couldn’t make any changes.
Ben, reading my expression, smiled gently and spoke.
“You haven’t been using this mechanism for very long, have you? That’s why your trajectory became flat—you were being cautious to avoid breaking it.”
“…You’re exactly right.”
“So what I’m saying is, I think you can afford to have a bit more confidence now.”
Ben spoke with conviction in his voice.
“Your mechanism is truly perfect. In all my years, I’ve never seen a player who could actually master a mechanism like this. And it seems like your body has internalized it now. By the way, do you swing the bat frequently in your routine?”
“Yes. I do 200 swings every day.”
“But wait… what kind of swings are you talking about?”
I tilted my head in confusion.
I’d asked the question myself—what was he getting at?
“Ah, no. Generally, a batter’s daily swing routine looks like this, right?”
Tee batting.
Soft toss batting.
Live cage batting, and so on.
Typically, players swing 150 to as many as 250 times before a game.
Of course, that didn’t mean 150 to 250 full swings.
It included light swings and full swings combined.
But.
“Ah. I do 200 personal swings separately, and keep the rest distinct.”
That meant I was swinging 350 to 450 times a day?
Was he lying?
Or was he insane?
“Ah, doesn’t that wear you out? That’s not something a person should be doing, is it?”
Ben shook his head slowly.
This wasn’t the time for casual conversation.
“No. That’s not what I mean. Anyway, you don’t need to force it or be cautious. If you just adjust your swing trajectory slightly—in other words, if you lift the ball just a bit more—you’ll see far better contact coming out.”
Ben tapped the perfect graph of my swing on the monitor.
“It seems you waited for the new mechanism to become second nature… but the data is telling us it’s time to move forward.”
My heart sank with a heavy thud.
I’d felt a vague limitation all this time, one born from the abundance of ground balls.
The machine had presented a plausible answer to that constraint.
Of course, I had no intention of blindly trusting it, but it was certainly worth considering.

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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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