The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 77

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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 77
The game had ended.
The scoreboard read 9:5.
It was a victory for the Desert Dogs.
An upset no one had anticipated.
Among the spectators filing out of the stadium.
The Major League scouts behind home plate remained rooted to their seats.
Their notepads were blackened with notations from the top of the fourth inning.
“Well, well. Even monkeys fall from trees. Victor Moretti actually got knocked out.”
A Chicago Cubs scout broke the silence with a shake of his head.
It was an unbelievable sight.
A prospect hurling 102-mile fastballs had been shelled and pulled from the game.
And his mental composure had shattered in the process.
“The batters came well-prepared.”
The Texas Rangers scout beside him nodded in agreement.
“Especially the cleanup hitter, Liam. I thought he was a typical slugger, but in that situation, he abandoned his ego and smoothly pushed the ball through the gap. He had the sense to weaponize the pitcher’s 100-mile velocity.”
“The second batter, Casey, was excellent too. He exploited the pitcher’s limited pickoff rule to shake the pitcher’s composure and forced a mistake pitch. And the intimidation factor of the third batter, Mark, played its part as well.”
The scouts each praised Liam’s decisive hit and the sequence involving Casey and Mark.
They were undoubtedly brilliant.
Each had contributed to toppling the mighty Victor Moretti from his position.
But.
The scouts’ gazes converged on a single point, as if by unspoken agreement.
The center of the Desert Dogs team conducting their victory celebration.
Soo-ho.
A seasoned scout snapped his notebook shut audibly and spoke.
“Honestly, the leadoff hitter did all of this.”
The surrounding scouts expressed silent agreement.
There was no refuting it.
The official MVP might belong to Liam, who had struck the go-ahead hit.
But those experts who truly understood baseball could see who the real monster was.
“Exactly. Without the leadoff hitter, Victor wouldn’t have crumbled today.”
One scout tapped his notepad as he spoke passionately.
“Who attempts a fake bunt-and-slash against a 164-kilometer pitch? That’s not something you can do with mere bat control. It’s a gamble that requires completely reading the pitcher’s psychology.”
That was it.
Soo-ho’s sudden tactical play had created a hairline fracture in Victor’s otherwise unshakeable composure.
Without that fracture?
Casey wouldn’t have had the opportunity to get a hit, nor would Mark have generated the intimidation needed to draw an intentional walk.
Liam would never have gotten his bases-loaded chance.
“He shook things up, widened the cracks, and set the stage. The other players simply picked up the spoon and ate from the prepared meal.”
“Heh, his Baseball IQ is too high for Low-A play. It felt like a manager had stepped into the batter’s box and was orchestrating the entire game.”
To reiterate, Liam had been the problem-solver.
But I was the architect, the conductor, the vanguard.
The scouts understood this.
Many batters could hit home runs.
But players who could read the entire flow of a game and independently devise solutions to topple opponents stronger than themselves—such talents were exceedingly rare.
“Oh Soo-ho….”
The scouts inscribed my name in bold letters at the top of each of their reports.
It was the moment when a new descriptor was affixed beside the assessment of a swift leadoff batter.
[Game Changer.]
Upon the ruins where the giant Victor Moretti had fallen.
The brightest star shining from that desolation was not the home run hitter, but the most cunning leadoff batter.
* * *
The moment the game concluded, the Stadium entrance became a sea of humanity.
Countless microphones and cameras converged upon a single player.
Naturally, that protagonist was Liam.
“Liam! What are your thoughts on today’s game?”
“How did it feel to face Victor Moretti’s 102-mile fastball?”
“Yankees fans are in an uproar right now! Give us a comment!”
A barrage of questions descended upon him.
It was inevitable.
Though the scouts recognized my genius, the public and press revel in results.
The decisive blow that toppled a prospective Major Leaguer.
And if the protagonist was an American power-hitting prospect, all the better.
For the journalists, the intricate strategic nuances of baseball mattered little.
They needed only a sensational headline: giant killer.
Liam stepped before the microphone with a bewildered expression.
“Well… I feel great. I think this victory was created together with all my teammates.”
“How humble! Victor Moretti collapsing in the third inning is unprecedented this season. Did you prepare something special?”
Basic questions were exchanged.
Liam continued answering with an animated expression.
Then one reporter posed a piercing question.
“Your batting form has been improving lately, but why did your performance suddenly improve so dramatically? Did you change your swing? Or perhaps undertake special training?”
In that instant, Liam’s mouth snapped shut.
A thousand thoughts collided in his mind.
‘How should I answer this?’
This moment was undoubtedly an opportunity.
America was a nation of showmanship, after all.
Once you received the spotlight, it translated directly into money and player value.
If he were to deflect here, claiming he’d practiced his swing all night, that he’d identified and overcome his weaknesses through his own efforts?
His stock would skyrocket beyond measure.
The ticket to the Major League—the one that would pay for his mother’s surgery—shimmered before his eyes.
Liam’s wavering gaze trembled with indecision.
‘Should I just say I did it? After all, I’m the one who produced the result.’
But.
Liam bit down hard on his lip.
The metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth, snapping his mind into focus.
He had survived his entire life by clinging to others, by groveling before the strong.
He had cast aside pride like garbage and parasitized the powerful to accumulate his stats.
Yet his mother’s words—hammered into his ears since childhood—suddenly pierced through his thoughts.
—Liam. It’s fine to live in poverty. It’s fine to live without dignity. But….
Never drive a knife into a friend’s back.
Repaying kindness with betrayal is something only beasts do.
To boast here about his own brilliance now.
That would be stabbing Soo-ho in the back—betraying the one who had extended a hand of salvation to him.
If Soo-ho hadn’t been there?
He wouldn’t have even gotten a chance to bat—he’d have struck out against Victor’s pitches.
Betray such a benefactor?
No matter how desperately he needed the money, there was a line he couldn’t cross as a human being.
And more than anything.
‘Soo-ho… he’s going to be a Major Leaguer someday.’
Liam was certain of it.
He had felt it bone-deep while playing today.
Baseball skill, intellect, guts, leadership.
If a monster possessing everything like that couldn’t make it to the Major League, then who in the world could?
If he stole the ball here, how could he ever lift his head when he met Soo-ho again in the Major League someday?
He couldn’t sacrifice a massive future ally for one sweet candy today.
Liam took a deep breath.
Then he stared directly at the camera and opened his mouth.
“I’ll be honest with you.”
The crowd fell silent.
Liam continued.
“I was able to hit that game-winning home run today not because of my own ability. It was entirely thanks to our team’s vanguard, the leadoff hitter—a Korean friend named Oh Soo-ho.”
“Oh Soo-ho?”
“Yes. Before I stepped into the batter’s box, he taught me how to approach Victor’s pitches. He told me not to be greedy, just to make light contact.”
Liam smiled.
His heart felt unburdened.
“That guy’s a prophet. He knew exactly how Victor would pitch, exactly what we needed to do. Every detail of the game unfolded without a single deviation from his plan.”
The reporters’ eyes widened in astonishment.
An American prospect crediting his success to an Asian player.
Such a complete transfer of credit was rare indeed.
“That’s why I believe today’s attention should go to him, not me. I’ll end the interview here.”
Liam walked away from the camera without hesitation.
Regret?
Honestly, it lingered.
To deny it would be a lie. After all, it could have been a life-changing opportunity.
But…
I felt unburdened.
As though I’d set down a weight I’d carried for far too long.
I’d spent my entire life living parasitically, always watching others’ faces.
But today, I’d done my part with confidence and kept my integrity intact.
That fact filled a corner of my chest with a profound warmth.
“You did well. You really did.”
Just as I was trudging back toward the Dormitory, someone blocked my path.
A middle-aged gentleman in a fedora—unusual for today.
It was Paul, the Los Angeles Dodgers’ elite Scout.
“Let’s talk for a moment.”
Liam stopped, startled.
A Scout—and not just any Scout, but someone of Paul’s caliber—approaching him first?
It was unimaginable.
Paul gazed at Liam intently, a cryptic smile playing at his lips.
“That interview was quite impressive, wasn’t it? Major League, huh? Doesn’t seem like you want to go.”
It was a barbed jest.
If he’d shamelessly claimed all the credit right there,
tomorrow’s newspaper headlines would have been his.
He’d have made a solid impression on the Team Management as well.
But Liam had kicked that opportunity away with his own feet.
Liam smirked, as if amused by the absurdity.
“Come on. You can fool reporters, but how do you fool baseball professionals? Do I really look that stupid to you?”
Liam didn’t avert his gaze from Paul’s.
“Sure, if I’d lied, I might have drawn a bit more attention from the organization. That much is certain. But eventually, it would’ve all come out. The real valuable player isn’t me—it’s Soo-ho. That would’ve been exposed sooner or later. And someone like you already knows that, don’t you?”
Fame built on lies is like a sandcastle.
One wave and it crumbles.
I didn’t want to build sandcastles anymore.
Now I wanted to build with my own strength, laying solid stones to knock on Major League’s door.
Trusting in that exhilarating sensation I felt at the Batter’s Box today, and the potential Soo-ho had shown.
“No, you know better than anyone—how incredible that guy is. He just took down a 102-mile pitcher who’s about to step onto the Major League stage. And he’s only in Low-A! Does that even make sense…? But today, he proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
Liam spoke with fervent conviction.
As if making Soo-ho’s greatness known mattered far more than receiving praise himself.
Paul nodded, observing Liam.
“He’s certainly exceptional. Besides his lack of experience, there’s nothing lacking about him.”
“Exactly. That’s precisely what I mean.”
“But that’s something you’ll need to tell him directly now.”
Paul extended his hand toward Liam.
“Liam. Your participation in next year’s Spring Training has been confirmed.”
“…What?”
Liam’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“That doesn’t mean you can coast through the remaining Arizona Fall League games, though.”
“Wait, wait a moment! Why… why me?”
Liam stammered, his voice trembling with incredulity.
He’d only managed a single hit.
It was Soo-ho who’d orchestrated the play, and Casey and Mark who’d set the stage.
“Those three are putting on far superior performances than I am. So why would I….”
“I won’t deny that. But Liam, you possess something those three haven’t yet acquired. You understand, don’t you?”
Paul’s gaze grew serious.
The Major League wasn’t a place where talent alone sufficed.
Experience forged through countless variables and failures.
And the seasoned mettle earned from surviving at higher levels.
That was an intangible asset no amount of money could purchase.
Liam had journeyed from Rookie ball all the way to Double-A, weathering every trial imaginable.
Meanwhile, Soo-ho and his companions had only just finished their Low-A season.
The assessment was that Liam remained the more stable choice for immediate deployment as a core contributor or backup.
“Of course, your securing a spot in Spring Training doesn’t mean you’ve taken theirs. There’s still roster space available.”
Liam’s eyes glistened with tears.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
He grasped Paul’s hand firmly with both of his own and bowed deeply.
His mother’s surgery expenses.
Perhaps hope was finally beginning to take shape.
“Yes. Now go rest. Take good care of yourself.”
Leaving Paul’s encouragement behind, Liam departed with an expression as if he’d inherited the entire world.
His footsteps were light, as though treading upon clouds.
Paul then turned his attention to Soo-ho, who was surrounded by countless reporters and bombarded with camera flashes.
An intriguing smile immediately played across his lips.
‘Well. Liam simply obtained what he deserved.’
From the start, the fact that Liam had been sent to the Arizona Fall League meant the organization had been watching him closely.
The only thing lacking was the winning mentality necessary to succeed at higher levels.
Yet through this game, Liam had clearly come to understand it.
How to abandon pride and lead his team to victory, and how to survive against formidable opponents.
From whom?
From none other than Soo-ho, who was just now leaving the Stadium to head home.
That realization alone was sufficient qualification for Liam to join Spring Training.
‘That doesn’t guarantee he’ll make it to the Major League, though.’
The opportunity had been given.
Seizing it was his own responsibility.
In any case, Paul’s focus was no longer on Liam.
‘That kid will gain far more than Liam ever could.’
Paul pulled out his notebook and opened the page labeled Oh Soo-ho.
Already densely filled with praise.
But it seemed he needed to add one more line beneath it.
What would Soo-ho gain today, after all?
He would obtain something monumentally greater—something that couldn’t even be compared to the mere opportunity Liam had secured.
‘The market is honest.’
Money flows to proven commodities, and madness flows to overwhelming ones.
A mere Low-A rookie had strategically dismantled a reserve Major Leaguer.
This shocking event transcended the simple matter of victory and defeat.
‘Value.’
Soo-ho’s market worth, and the gaze of other teams upon him.
All of it would skyrocket beyond measure.
Paul pressed his pen firmly against Soo-ho’s name.
‘A surge like this—no matter how long you’ve been grinding in baseball—can’t be predicted.’

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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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