The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 53

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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 53
Runners on First and Second Base.
The Scouts in the Stands began murmuring among themselves.
“What, what is this?”
“They’re from Low-A?”
It was a reaction of disbelief.
And for good reason—Pitcher Jake Miller had been dominating batters through the second inning.
One of the top aces in Double-A.
Yet he had just allowed consecutive hits to players significantly below his level.
Of course, hits happen frequently in baseball, but this was different.
The gap in level wasn’t merely a number on paper.
The spin rate of the pitcher’s fastball, the trajectory of his breaking pitches, the very depth of the count battles themselves—all were fundamentally different.
Bridging that chasm wasn’t something willpower alone could accomplish.
If it were truly that simple, why would the levels between professional and amateur, Minor League and Major League, be so distinctly divided?
Yet amid that confused murmuring, Paul, the Dodgers’ elite Scout, rested his chin on his hand with evident intrigue.
‘Just as I thought. My prediction was correct.’
These two who had reached base represented a type absent from the current Major League Farm System.
‘Nowadays, baseball is all about the launch angle revolution and whatnot—batters one through nine all swinging for the fences with big, aggressive swings.’
But these two were different.
‘They understand perfectly that right now, it’s not about home runs—it’s about seizing momentum.’
The opposing pitcher’s form had been exceptional.
If that were the case, they needed to disrupt that flow first, yet batters one through six in the previous inning had failed to do so.
They’d insisted on their own swings, their own power hits, and been overwhelmed by the pitcher’s velocity.
But Casey and Mark were different.
Not swings openly hunting for the long ball, but swings methodically building runners and wearing down the pitcher.
Paul reviewed the scouting report on his tablet PC once more.
‘Number seven, Casey. He led Low-A in home runs. Number eight, Mark. He’s got power as his strength too.’
Both were power hitters who yielded to no one in raw strength.
Yet they’d set aside their pride and executed team batting.
They were definitely mutants.
‘The fact that they understand this already means they’ll become great players….’
Next, Paul’s gaze fixed on the number nine batter, Soo-ho, stepping out of the On-Deck Circle.
‘Now the important one is that guy.’
The table was perfectly set.
Whether to pick up the spoon and eat, or overturn the table entirely, rested solely in the hands of that Asian player.
If he couldn’t produce results here, Team B’s momentum would plummet sharply.
Conversely, the pitcher might regain his composure with the relief of escaping the crisis.
‘This is why modern Major League Baseball only goes for the home run.’
Scoring runs through consecutive hits is difficult.
One misstep from anyone breaks the flow.
Even if I strike out, aiming for a home run might be more efficient in terms of expected scoring value.
That was what modern baseball’s data said was the right answer.
But they rejected that answer and clung stubbornly to their own approach.
‘They’re picking a mud-slinging fight.’
Paul skimmed through Soo-ho’s scouting report.
‘Hmm. This guy. His hitting grade is the worst.’
On the 20-80 scale, his hitting score was at the bottom.
To put it bluntly, it was an assessment that he wasn’t professional-level.
‘But looking at his Low-A records, his batting average is high.’
Particularly his OPS in the latter half of the season was among the league’s elite.
‘So he fixed his swing….’
A player whose original hitting mechanics were a mess produced results in a short period?
Even if he fixed his mechanics, it was reasonable to assume it worked because the Low-A pitchers’ level was simply low.
Once you move up to a higher level, your true colors always show.
But.
‘Still, I’m looking forward to this.’
The Dodgers sent him with confidence, after all.
‘I wonder what kind of performance he’ll show.’
Paul adjusted his cap and kept his eyes on the Batter’s Box.
* * *
Stepping into the Batter’s Box, Soo-ho adjusted his grip and fixed his gaze on the Pitcher.
‘This is different from Low-A.’
It wasn’t simply about the Pitcher’s velocity or the league’s overall level.
Of course, since players from higher levels were mixed in, a higher standard was natural.
But what Soo-ho focused on was the league’s purpose itself.
‘Here, individual player stats matter far more than wins and losses like in a regular league.’
It was obvious logic.
After all, they’d forcibly mixed prospects from five different organizations into one team.
Team loyalty? Teamwork?
There was no way such things existed.
The Staff Members would be perfectly happy as long as their own team’s players performed well.
They’d smile and leave even if the team lost 100 to 0.
Soo-ho, who understood this fact precisely, let his eyes settle into calm focus.
‘So I need to show growth here too.’
Actually, if I pulled a surprise bunt like I did in Low-A in this situation?
‘It would work perfectly.’
The opposition had zero data on Soo-ho.
The defensive positioning was deep, and with his bunting skill, he was confident he could place the ball inside the Third Base Line with his eyes closed.
Creating bases loaded with no outs like that would dramatically increase the team’s scoring probability.
Having three Low-A prospects filling the bases wouldn’t be a bad look either.
‘But even if I do that, can I really move up to the next league? Will I get a Spring Training invitation?’
My conclusion was resolute.
Absolutely not.
When a baseball club evaluates prospects, immediate results aren’t their top priority.
‘Results matter at the Double-A/Triple-A level, right before the Major League.’
I was in Low-A.
So to aim higher, I needed to demonstrate personal growth.
‘They’ll evaluate my potential—how much I’ve changed in this short time.’
Baseball is a game of probabilities, a sport where luck plays a role.
A poorly-hit bunt single pales in comparison to a bullet-like line drive that gets caught right at a fielder—scouts grade the latter far more favorably.
I knew this.
So what I needed now wasn’t some petty bunt single.
Even if it resulted in a line drive out.
Even if I somehow ended up in a double play or triple play.
‘My evaluation will depend on how I make contact and what exit velocity registers on that hit.’
If this were a regular season game in the Dodgers Minor League System, I would’ve bunted without hesitation and sprinted to First Base.
Team victory always came first for me.
‘But here, I’m a product being sold to the market.’
I steeled my resolve and gripped the bat firmly.
‘I’m going to swing.’
And my calculation proved eerily accurate.
The Staff Members seated behind Home Plate didn’t care about the Scoreboard’s score.
Their eyes were fixed solely on my swing mechanics and
the exit velocity that would burst forth moments later.
* * *
‘I’ll swing, but first…’
there was groundwork to lay.
I pretended to adjust my helmet brim while sending a subtle glance to the two runners on the Base Paths—
Casey and Mark.
A brief moment of understanding.
Both players nodded imperceptibly.
I refocused on the Batter’s Box.
‘The first pitch will likely be a temper pitch.’
The opposing pitcher had no data on me whatsoever.
Moreover, he’d just allowed consecutive hits to the two lower-league batters ahead of me, putting runners on First and Second.
Would the Pitcher have the nerve to throw a strike right down the middle on the first pitch?
‘That’s extremely unlikely. The opposite, actually.’
If he had that kind of composure, he’d have gotten called up to the Major League long ago.
‘His mental state is shaken, so he’ll likely test the waters first, trying to get a read on me.’
He’ll try to induce a swing at a pitch outside the Strike Zone.
‘All I need to do is exploit that opening.’
The Pitcher froze in his set position, then began to raise his arm.
In that instant, Soo-ho laid down the bat for a bunt.
“A bunt?!”
The Catcher’s cry echoed as the First Baseman and Third Baseman reflexively bolted forward.
Their frantic movement was more than enough to disrupt the Pitcher’s focus.
The Pitcher’s face contorted as the ball slipped from his fingertips.
Simultaneously, the runners on First Base and Second Base took off.
The pitch sailed low, well outside the Strike Zone.
Soo-ho, as if he’d been waiting for this, withdrew the bat cleanly.
Crack!
“Ball!”
The Pitcher’s control had completely collapsed, and the Catcher, bewildered by the bat that vanished before his eyes and the charging runners, fumbled.
He couldn’t extract the ball lodged in his glove quickly enough, his hands trembling.
That brief moment was all they needed.
Whoosh!
Dust erupted from Second Base and Third Base.
Casey and Mark didn’t even need to execute a headfirst slide.
They came in with a standing slide, casually crossing the base with their feet.
It was the arrogance of knowing they were safe no matter what.
And proof that they trusted Soo-ho’s strategy at the plate with absolute faith.
“Safe! Safe!”
The Referee’s arms spread wide.
Two outs, runners on Second Base and Third Base. Ball count 1-0.
With a single action, I’d erased the danger of a double play.
And sent both runners into scoring position.
Soo-ho grinned and adjusted his grip on the bat.
Now the advantage in this count had completely shifted to my side.
‘In Low-A, I was swinging level.’
It was a choice made for precision.
But now was the time to show what I could do.
Soo-ho twisted his grip slightly and adjusted his stance.
An upper swing.
It was designed to lift the ball and generate extra-base hits.
This was the first time I’d used this swing in actual play.
‘All I’ve done is practice it in Mark’s Backyard.’
So I couldn’t guarantee its polish.
The trajectory and timing still weren’t fully ingrained in my body.
But one thing was certain—if I made solid contact, the ball would carry.
‘I can refine the details later.’
Right now, I focus solely on the sensation of lifting the ball.
But the opposing Pitcher was no pushover either.
At 1-0, he came right at me with everything.
A fastball deep inside, followed by a tight pitch on the outside.
“Strike!”
“Foul!”
In an instant, the count had shifted to 1-2.
He was definitely a higher-level Pitcher.
My mental composure wavered, but my fundamentals remained intact.
Meanwhile, I was preoccupied with my upper-cut swing trajectory, causing my timing to drift microscopically off.
Like gears grinding against each other.
But I didn’t panic.
Instead, my eyes narrowed.
If he’d established the count with two fastballs, the next pitch was predictable.
‘It’s coming now.’
The most delicious pitch to lift with an upper-cut swing.
The ball left the Pitcher’s hand.
A spinning pitch entered my field of vision.
‘There it is. A breaking ball.’
A curveball dropping like a bell.
My lower body anchored firmly to the ground, and my bat surged upward from below without hesitation.
Crack—!
A sharp, crisp sound that sent shivers down my spine.
The ball struck the bat’s sweet spot exactly as I intended, launching upward.
A trajectory that completely split right-center field.
Confirming the hit, I sprinted toward First Base.
And I had no intention of stopping.
‘I’m definitely going at least one more base.’
The moment my foot touched First Base, I used my ankle’s elasticity to accelerate further.
Fighting against centrifugal force, I leaned my body and shot toward Second Base like an arrow.
I could see the Right Fielder fumbling for the ball near the Fence.
‘Third Base.’
I didn’t slow down as I passed Second Base.
Third Base drew closer into view.
The throw was sailing toward the Third Baseman.
Maintaining my speed, I dove three meters before the base.
A smooth slide tore through the red dirt and touched the base.
“Safe!”
I brushed the dust off and stood, giving a thumbs-up to Mark and Casey, who had been watching my base running from Home Plate.
Mark returned the thumbs-up, and Casey nodded in acknowledgment.
Against higher-level players, a two-run triple in my first at-bat.
There couldn’t have been a better start than this.

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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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