The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 50

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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 50
“You guys are with the Dodgers?”
Soo-ho, Mark, and Casey turned their heads toward the source of the heated voice.
Standing there was a Large White Male wearing the same Dodgers uniform as them, arms crossed over his chest.
He stood well over two meters tall, his bulging forearm muscles and neck covered in tattoos radiating an oppressive presence.
His unkempt beard and scarred visage made him look less like a baseball player and more like a thug.
The man looked them over as if they were insects before speaking.
“I’ve never seen any of your faces before. Which organization are you from?”
Though his arrogant demeanor was enough to irritate anyone, Mark answered anyway.
After all, the man wore a Dodgers uniform, making him a senior from the same organization.
“We’re from the Low-A Quakes.”
In an instant, the man’s brow furrowed sharply, and he let out a scoff of disbelief.
“…What? Low-A? This isn’t some neighborhood little league.”
His voice echoed through the Locker Room.
The eyes of other players from different organizations immediately fixed on them.
It was inevitable.
Low-A—the absolute bottom tier—at a place where the most elite prospects gathered?
It was as good as tarnishing the prestige of this place.
The man clicked his tongue and sneered.
“Seems like they had a real shortage of prospects to send. Shipping greenhorns all the way here.”
At that insulting remark, Mark’s face flushed red and purple.
Just as he was about to say something, the man drove his point home.
“My name is Liam. I’m with the Double-A Tulsa Drillers.”
It was as if he wouldn’t tolerate any rebuttal.
A perfectly timed introduction.
“…!”
At those words, Mark could only clench his jaw.
Double-A.
The weight that single term carried was truly immense.
Generally, the class distinctions in Minor League Baseball are clear-cut.
Advancing from Low-A to High-A is difficult enough.
But crossing from High-A to Double-A is like painfully scaling an insurmountable wall.
From Low-A through High-A and into Single-A, prospects are being refined and polished.
But from Double-A onward, real players compete against each other.
Those who survive here can immediately aim for a Major League call-up—they were prospect-level major leaguers in waiting.
In other words, Liam was two entire tiers above Soo-ho and his group.
A senior competing at a vastly superior level.
A genuine prospect with far higher standing within the organization.
No matter how much the three of them had come on the organization’s recommendation.
In the Professional Baseball World where rank was absolute, Low-A prospects had no grounds to talk back to a Double-A senior.
The United States is a free country.
Yet in baseball, at least, the rigid hierarchy culture was unmistakably entrenched.
Liam waved his hand dismissively, as if catching Soo-ho in a trap since he couldn’t counter.
“Don’t muddy the waters—stay in your corner and shut up. You’re in the way. Or better yet, pack your bags and get lost.”
One could argue it was excessive.
But Liam had his reasons for tormenting them and crushing their spirits.
‘Just because we wear the same Dodgers uniform, should I welcome them with open arms?’
It was absurd.
If anything, sharing the same organization made it worse.
The door to the Major League was narrower than the eye of a needle.
The forty-man roster was limited, and hundreds of prospects clawed at each other’s throats to claim those spots.
In other words, the players from other organizations in this locker room were merely opponents.
But those wearing the same uniform were direct competitors fighting to steal his livelihood.
What irritated him most was their affiliation.
Not Double-A. Not Triple-A.
Not even High-A—just Low-A.
By any reasonable standard, they had no business being here.
Yet the organization sent them here?
It meant the Dodgers were keeping a close eye on these bastards.
‘Damn it.’
To Liam, this was a red alert.
He was being evaluated as stagnant at Double-A.
Meanwhile, these rising stars climbing from below were receiving the organization’s favor.
If they broke out here?
Not only would his Spring Training invitation next year be at risk.
Even the Double-A spot he’d fought so hard to maintain could be threatened.
That’s how this world worked—when someone rose, someone else had to give up their seat.
‘So I need to crush them now.’
Liam’s eyes gleamed with malice.
Break their spirits from the start.
Make them feel how terrifying this place was.
Make them understand how insignificant they were, so they couldn’t perform at their best.
It was underhanded. It was meant to look that way.
‘So what.’
This was a place where the weak didn’t survive.
This wasn’t a school—it was a battlefield.
That’s when it happened.
Soo-ho stepped forward in front of Liam and bowed deeply at a ninety-degree angle.
“I apologize.”
“…Huh?”
Liam’s eyebrows twitched.
It was an unexpected response.
Unlike Korea, in American culture, avoiding eye contact or lowering one’s head signifies defeat or submission.
So ordinarily, rookies would either protest indignantly, or else.
“Who do you think you are?”
they’d talk back.
But this Oriental guy was displaying impeccable courtesy as if he’d just encountered a senior officer in the military.
“Since this is our first meeting, I didn’t know much. I failed to recognize you as a Double-A senior… I sincerely apologize for offending you.”
“Huh, unbelievable…”
Liam’s expression turned incredulous.
What kind of guy was this?
He’d never seen such excessive deference in American baseball.
Because of it, he’d actually been ready to keep provoking him, but all the wind had been knocked out of his sails.
Meanwhile, my true thoughts were crystal clear.
‘Hazing…’
I’d experienced it countless times already.
Korea wasn’t much different from America.
People are people everywhere.
To claim my spot in the Major League.
Or to keep from losing my starting position.
Simply because they were older, or because they’d eaten professional bread a little sooner.
Seniors who hurled insults at juniors, barked orders, and made them do menial work.
I’d grown sick of seeing such people during my Minor League days.
‘Mark and Casey probably never experienced anything like this.’
Being American themselves, they wouldn’t have adapted to this unpleasant culture they were encountering for the first time.
‘But I’ve crawled through the bottom.’
Do you avoid filth out of fear?
You avoid it because it’s disgusting.
There’s nothing to gain by standing on pride here.
‘So the right move now is to step forward as a representative and bow my head.’
If I made an enemy of Liam right now and ruined the Locker Room atmosphere, the ones who’d lose out in the end were us—the weakest link.
Why waste unnecessary emotions?
Honestly, pride? I could display it.
But that would mean throwing away the chance to play even one more game.
Who would like a player who caused discord?
‘The best thing would be to crush them with skill, but…’
Realistically, the idea of Low-A overpowering Double-A through skill alone was absurd.
Especially since we had no data on the opposition.
Still, you can’t spit in the face of a smile.
This works everywhere.
I lifted my head and offered a good-natured smile.
“I’ll make sure not to cause any trouble going forward.”
“…Tch. How boring.”
Liam, having nothing more to say, clicked his tongue and turned away.
Pummeling an opponent without the will to fight was no different than spitting in your own face.
“Fine. Stay down.”
As Liam walked away, Mark leaned in and hissed at me.
“Hey! Why are you apologizing? What did we do wrong!”
“Either way, we got through it without making a bigger mess, didn’t we?”
“W-well, I suppose that’s true…”
I glanced at Casey as well.
His gaze was sharp enough to cut through a veil.
Tap, tap.
I patted his shoulder reassuringly.
“Casey. Don’t get upset over something like this.”
“Why?”
Casey shot back the question.
It came from genuine confusion.
“Incidents like today are going to happen all the time anyway.”
This was just the beginning.
I knew it well.
Did Liam backing off mean this was over?
Absolutely not.
He’d seize on any opening to find fault with us.
Would it be just Liam?
No. The other Dodgers Minor League players would be the same.
“Then shouldn’t you have pushed back harder?”
Mark was particularly annoyed by Casey’s dismissiveness, but this time he nodded as if acknowledging my point.
It was a moment that revealed the difference in our philosophies.
Casey and Mark.
And me—we didn’t see eye to eye.
I spoke quietly, sharing my thoughts.
“I’m upset too.”
It wasn’t as if I was some saint, patiently enduring everything.
Being upset is being upset.
There was no denying the surge of emotion welling up from deep within my chest.
But instead of venting those feelings outward, I chose to swallow them and burn them as fuel.
“But there’s a clear reason why we need to endure this.”
Right now, we couldn’t shed the Low-A label immediately.
No matter what we did, nothing would change.
If I can’t change my status, what then?
The best strategy was to use it thoroughly.
“Our status is a weakness for us. But that’s precisely why now is the time to transform that weakness into strength.”
When we face contempt, we’ll use it as kindling to ignite our fighting spirit.
“If we feel wronged, we’ll channel that bitterness into something fierce and grow like madmen. We have a long road ahead of us.”
Survive here, and next season brings promotion to High-A.
And even sweeter than that—an invitation to the Major League Spring Camp awaited us.
We might actually sweat alongside the superstars I’d only ever seen on television.
So there was no time to be held back by the petty territorial games of some Double-A player.
I wasn’t idle enough to indulge in such trivial ego contests.
“If we have that energy, we’re better off watching one more pitch, taking one more swing.”
Soo-ho’s gaze remained steady, fixed forward without wavering.
Mark and Casey clenched their jaws.
They’d been persuaded.
And that stung their pride even more.
Their emotions had overridden their judgment.
But Soo-ho was thinking of his future—they couldn’t help but see it.
He was far too mature.
Yet that was a relief.
Having such a dependable, adult-like friend on their side was a blessing.
“Everyone changed? Assemble on the Ground! We’re running a scrimmage.”
Coach’s command rang out then.
Soo-ho gave Mark and Casey a light push on their backs.
“Let’s go. We’re here to chase our dreams.”
We can’t even dream of revenge or redemption until we grow stronger, right?

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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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