The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 49

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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 49
About an hour and twenty minutes after boarding the plane at the airport.
After their brief flight, Soo-ho and Mark arrived at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport.
Mark stretched and spoke.
“Whew… even the air feels different.”
The moment they stepped outside the airport, a wave of dry, scorching heat washed over them.
The desert land of Arizona.
The Arizona Fall League required individual travel rather than official team transportation.
Naturally, they had to pay for their own airfare.
One-way tickets cost around one hundred fifty dollars, paid out of pocket.
For Major League players, it would be pocket change.
But for Minor League players—
especially with the season over and paychecks stopped, it was far from a trivial expense.
The two of them immediately called an Uber without hesitation.
Their destination was Glendale.
Where the Dodgers’ prospects participating in the Arizona Fall League trained and played.
After driving for about thirty minutes, a massive oasis-like facility emerged between the red desert and cacti.
[Camelback Ranch – Glendale]
As they passed the enormous sign at the entrance, both their jaws dropped.
“Wow… this is insane.”
Mark pressed his face against the window, gasping in amazement.
Soo-ho couldn’t tear his eyes away either.
This place was far too massive to simply call a baseball field.
Indeed, across the endless expanse of verdant grass lay thirteen regulation-sized baseball diamonds.
Between them flowed an artificial lake, with well-maintained walking paths and a magnificent clubhouse building standing in splendid display.
Camelback Ranch was originally a spring training facility shared by the LA Dodgers and Chicago White Sox.
Every February, superstars from both teams gathered here to prepare for the season.
It was truly the vanguard of Major League Baseball.
Soo-ho shook his head in disbelief.
He too was quite astonished.
‘This is where we’ll be playing for the next month?’
It was only natural.
Though they hadn’t entered the interior yet.
The cramped, dilapidated locker room of Low-A, the creaking stands.
It seemed unlikely they’d encounter such poor conditions here, where even the shower water had barely trickled.
After stepping inside, Soo-ho was amazed all over again, despite what he’d already witnessed.
‘So this is Major League class.’
His heart raced at the overwhelming scale of the facilities.
Even the grass condition, even the netting—everything was top-tier.
The very quality of the stage was different from the baseball they’d played until now.
I lifted my head and expanded my field of vision.
Players who had already arrived were scattered across the Ground in small clusters.
Since uniforms hadn’t been distributed yet, everyone wore comfortable short-sleeved shirts or hoodies of their own choosing.
No team affiliation, no names—nothing was known yet.
But I grasped it immediately.
‘This is… a completely different world.’
They laughed and conversed with ease.
At first glance, they looked like young men gathered at a neighborhood gymnasium.
But the texture of their composure was different.
It wasn’t simply a state of relaxed tension.
It was absolute confidence in their own abilities.
And the composure of the strong—radiating from the pride of having climbed this far through countless competitions.
‘And…’
I examined the players closely.
Their clothing didn’t hide the state of their bodies.
Forearms bulging as if ready to burst, lower bodies stretched with fluid power.
These weren’t the unpolished gems I’d seen in Low-A.
They were near-complete forms—unnecessary fat burned away, muscles essential for baseball compressed to their absolute limit.
It had to be that way.
Because the Arizona Fall League was where only those kinds of players gathered.
This place is commonly called the graduate school of prospects officially operated by MLB.
It wasn’t simply a place where prospects were assembled and fed experience.
It was where performances shown during the season were finally validated.
Or where elite players who had insufficient sample sizes due to injury or poor form made their final stand to prove themselves.
That’s why the scouts and front offices who came here had different standards.
One-dimensional statistics—how many hits, how many strikeouts—didn’t matter.
The completeness of swing mechanics, the approach at the Batter’s Box.
They examined metrics beyond the numbers—the quality of contact, the spin efficiency of pitches—like a microscope.
In other words, luck and fortune held no sway here.
‘Right. The level of players participating is different from the start.’
The core of players gathered here were key prospects from Double-A and Triple-A.
Among them were plenty of semi-Major Leaguers—players who had come down for final seasoning just before their Major League callup.
There were also players trying to make the 40-man roster.
So this wasn’t a place you could come to just by raising your hand and wanting to go.
Each organization had been allocated very few spots, and only those carefully selected by their clubs could enter.
The Arizona Fall League was an exclusive, elite league accessible only to chosen talents.
‘But I’m just from Low-A.’
I swallowed dryly.
Rank insignia aside, I was frankly the lowest, the weakest here.
To their eyes, I might just look like a kid who got lucky enough to slip in.
But Soo-ho’s eyes gleamed with curiosity rather than fear.
‘If anything, I like it.’
Stronger than myself.
Monsters who had reached the threshold of the Major League.
Just being able to mix and compete with them would push my baseball to evolve once more.
As I finished the thought, a familiar face appeared in the distance.
He too wore casual clothes, but his distinctive arrogant and relaxed posture was recognizable at a glance even from afar.
It was Casey Meyer.
‘Casey really is… enviable.’
As always, he had headphones on and his eyes closed.
‘Doesn’t he get nervous at all?’
I approached him with Mark and stood behind him.
Lost in his own world, Casey didn’t notice Soo-ho and Mark behind him.
Tap tap.
I tapped Casey’s shoulder like knocking on a door.
Only then did Casey turn around, his drowsy eyes opening.
“Huh?”
At that response, Mark muttered in disbelief.
“You obviously knew we were coming, so what’s with that ‘why are you guys here’ reaction?”
Casey glanced at Mark, then quickly turned his gaze to Soo-ho.
“When did you get here?”
“About ten minutes ago? You?”
“Thirty minutes ago.”
At their exchange, Mark ground his teeth.
Still ignoring him.
Normally he would have said something, but not today.
The magnitude of this stage itself made him tense.
Soo-ho felt the same way.
That’s why Casey’s reaction intrigued me even more.
“You’re not nervous?”
“Not really. I’ll do well anyway.”
Mark’s eyes widened.
“Wow. That’s incredibly annoying.”
But both Soo-ho and Mark envied Casey for it.
Not getting nervous regardless of the stage—that was a talent.
Of course, they also knew that talent stemmed from actual skill.
Just then, a Staff Member approached and began announcing loudly.
“Alright, everyone’s attention! Now that we’re all here, please come this way. First, please pick up your respective team uniforms!”
On the table lay five team uniforms neatly folded.
Los Angeles Dodgers, Chicago White Sox, Red Sox, Twins, Padres.
These were the uniforms of the five teams that made up the Glendale Desert Dogs here.
Soo-ho, Mark, and Casey would be putting on LA Dodgers uniforms.
This was what made the Arizona Fall League special.
Here, players wore the uniform of their parent organization.
In other words, the Major League Baseball club they belonged to.
The reason was clear.
The prospects gathered here were the future of the organization.
The club wanted to instill a sense of belonging and pride in these young players.
And for the players themselves, it was powerful motivation—a reminder that they would soon be wearing this uniform and competing in the big leagues.
It was a preview of sorts, a privilege reserved only for the chosen few.
As other players collected their respective uniforms,
I picked up my Dodgers uniform with my name stitched across the back.
A soft rustle.
The cool touch of the performance fabric brushed against my fingertips.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the vivid blue Dodgers logo emblazoned across the chest.
‘…This feels strange.’
I gazed down at the uniform and swallowed hard.
It was different from the Quakes uniform.
The weight of it felt entirely different.
It was just a piece of clothing, after all.
Yet it carried the weight of immense history,
and the dream of becoming a Major Leaguer—a goal that baseball players worldwide aspire to—suddenly felt tangible, within reach.
The Staff Member clapped his hands to snap the dazed players out of their reverie.
“Come on, everyone! Save the admiration for later! Head to the Locker Room and change into your uniforms!”
The players hurried toward the Locker Room.
Their eagerness to put on the uniforms as quickly as possible was unmistakable.
When I arrived at the Locker Room, I was amazed despite having anticipated it.
‘Wow… This is insane.’
The scale of the Locker Room was different—clearly this was a Major League spring training facility.
Each personal space was spacious, and the soft lighting combined with plush carpeting created the illusion of stepping into a luxury Hotel Lobby.
Mark immediately began making a fuss the moment he stood in front of his locker with his name on it.
“Yo! Seriously! What’s this quality?”
He hastily removed his shirt and pulled on the uniform.
Number 55 on his back.
A weighty number that suited a hulking cleanup hitter perfectly.
“Look at me! How do I look? Don’t I look like a real Major Leaguer?”
Mark struck various poses in front of the mirror, flexing his muscles.
The blue Dodgers logo stretched taut across his broad chest.
“It suits you well.”
I meant it sincerely.
It probably wasn’t because of Mark, but rather because of the Dodgers uniform.
“I’m sleeping in this tonight.”
While Mark was overwhelmed with emotion, Casey had already finished changing.
Number 7.
A symbol of good fortune and the number preferred by shortstops who became the backbone of their teams.
Casey stood before the mirror, slightly bending the bill of his cap as he examined his reflection.
That expression.
Not bad at all.
Or so it seemed to say.
From Soo-ho’s perspective, at least.
Moreover, the fit looked absolutely perfect, as if he’d been wearing it since birth.
Casey met his own gaze in the mirror and lifted one corner of his mouth in a slight smirk.
The image of his future self running across the ground in this uniform was painted so vividly in his mind.
And then.
“What are you doing? Change already.”
Casey poked Soo-ho, who was standing there dazed, staring at him.
Soo-ho finally snapped to attention and began changing into his uniform.
‘This feels good.’
With each button I fastened, a subtle tremor ran through my fingertips.
After buttoning the last button and tucking my shirt neatly into my pants.
I slowly lifted my head and faced the mirror.
Number 27.
In the mirror stood a figure unfamiliar yet one I’d dreamed of not long ago.
‘It’s heavy.’
It was different from when I held it in my hands.
When the uniform hung on the rack, it had been vague longing and excitement.
But now, with it on my body, that weight became tangible, pressing down on my shoulders.
The fabric was light as a feather, yet its meaning weighed a thousand pounds.
Tens of thousands of monsters from around the world stake their lives fighting for this single logo.
But I didn’t hate that weight.
Rather, my heart pounded even harder under that pressure.
‘I’m borrowing it for now, but soon I’ll make it part of my skin.’
I pulled the cap down firmly over my head.
The figure reflected in the mirror looked unmistakably like a Dodgers player, exactly as I wanted.
It was precisely then that a voice shattered my reverie.
“What? You guys are Dodgers players?”
Soo-ho, Mark, and Casey turned their heads toward the source of the voice.
They had no choice, given the unmistakably contemptuous tone mixed into those words.
Standing there was a Large White Male wearing the same Dodgers uniform as them.
His brow was deeply furrowed as he glared at them.

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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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