The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 82

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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 82
Mesa, Arizona.
The Chicago Cubs’ Spring Training facility and what baseball insiders called the Wrigley Field of the West—Sloan Park.
The stadium grounds, normally quiet at this hour, bustled with activity from early morning.
Scout vehicles from various teams packed the stadium entrance, while broadcast trucks busily laid out cables.
Today, this place was both a glimpse into Major League Baseball’s future and a grand auction house separating the wheat from the chaff.
And through that boisterous crowd, four men walked forward.
At the front was Mark, a burly man with a gym bag slung over his shoulder.
Beside him walked Liam, his expression mingling tension with anticipation.
Casey, who transformed his surroundings into a fashion shoot, appeared composed.
And at the center of them all stood Soo-ho, looking exhilarated.
The Desert Dogs’ starting four—a common sight in the Arizona Fall League—but today this combination carried an unusual tension.
Just yesterday evening, hadn’t they been growling at each other across the grill?
Their shared goal was the All-Star Game MVP.
They’d declared themselves competitors gunning for each other’s throats, yet now they walked shoulder to shoulder for a simple reason.
‘Once the game starts, we’re enemies—but outside, we need to stick together.’
The moment we stepped through that gate, we’d be fighting over the same prize: the MVP.
But until we passed through those gates.
And in front of the other teams, we needed to appear as one unit: the Desert Dogs.
There was strength in numbers—it kept others from underestimating you.
Why sabotage ourselves from the start by snarling at each other and going down together?
“Soo-ho. You good with interviews? You need to catch people’s eyes, right?”
Mark whispered, glancing sidelong at the countless cameras positioned around them.
And the reason he emphasized interviews so heavily was this:
Teams weren’t just looking for machines that could swing a bat well.
They wanted stars who could draw fans into the stadium.
They were hunting for products—players who wouldn’t shrink before a microphone and could sell their own charisma.
Especially for a player like Soo-ho, who’d cultivated an image as a strategist or oracle, interviews were a second battlefield just as crucial as the batter’s box.
A single well-chosen word could be an opportunity to raise your market value.
“So don’t play false modesty and hold back. Come out swinging. You speak English well anyway.”
Mark fussed over Soo-ho’s appearance, smoothing his clothes as he rattled off advice.
Though Soo-ho was his older brother, Mark looked like an older sibling sending his youngest off to get married.
Despite being competitors, he was taking care of everything that mattered.
But to Mark, Soo-ho was a brother before he was a rival.
Then Casey, walking beside them, suddenly interjected.
“Lift your chin a bit higher.”
“…?”
“There’s a camera at three o’clock right now capturing you. If you tuck your chin too much there, you’ll look weak.”
Casey read the broadcast camera angles with uncanny precision.
“Don’t avoid their gaze. Make eye contact and smile. Like you own this whole show.”
As he spoke, Casey naturally draped an arm across my shoulder.
As if advertising that this remarkable guy was his friend.
The MVP race would come after the game started.
“First, we need to show that we’re the best out there. Right?”
Casey held me in equally high regard.
He genuinely wanted my worth to be recognized.
And there was a reason for that.
Of course, it was because Casey valued me.
If he hadn’t been there, could I have reached this point?
Perhaps, but it was impossible to say for certain.
His presence had been such a tremendous source of strength for me.
‘And this remarkable friend needs to shine even brighter….’
That way, when he eventually claimed the MVP award, it would shine all the more brilliantly.
The path to becoming a Major Leaguer was this treacherous.
You could only reach that pinnacle by stepping over the friends you’d struggled alongside.
But what could be done?
The system was like this.
You couldn’t become a Major Leaguer if you went against it.
If the position of Major Leaguer were abundant, it might be different.
The rosters were already full from the start, and you had to squeeze your name into the rare opening that appeared.
I felt the weight of Casey’s arm on my shoulder and swallowed a bitter laugh.
‘These guys are something else.’
My chest tightened with emotion.
Honestly, once you step into that stadium, it’s a ruthless competition with no room for sentiment.
Four of us couldn’t all make it onto the 40-Man Roster together.
So it wouldn’t have been strange if I’d let my competitors’ jaws stay clenched.
Or if I’d let them fumble awkwardly in front of the cameras.
‘The more mistakes your opponent makes, the more your own value shines.’
But they didn’t do that.
They adjusted my appearance, pointed out camera angles, and willingly shared their expertise.
Rather than winning through petty means, they competed fairly.
It was the confidence of elite versus elite, and the deep camaraderie of teammates.
‘Right. Running with guys like this, I need to perform even more impressively.’
Just as I was steeling my resolve, reflecting on my friends’ advice.
An AFL Official Staff member at the stadium entrance shouted toward the players.
“Players! Please pay attention for a moment!”
The staff member’s voice was urgent due to the hectic conditions.
“The Media Zone is at full capacity right now! With the pre-game ceremony overlapping, time is extremely tight. Therefore, for smooth operations, please conduct interviews with only one media outlet per player!”
“Just one place?”
“Yes! Multiple interviews are not permitted. Please choose just one broadcasting company!”
The Office Staff Member’s announcement stirred murmurs through the crowd.
Limited interview opportunities meant I had to choose strategically.
I needed to select the broadcasting company that could package me most lucratively.
In truth, this was the League Director’s strategy.
A player’s star quality isn’t determined by anyone else.
It depends on whether you recognize that star quality within yourself.
And how you leverage it—that’s an equally crucial component.
So this was essentially a test.
And the players weren’t fools.
Especially the renowned American prospects—they studied this field extensively.
So they grasped the intention immediately.
Before the announcement even finished, they approached the journalists from their chosen broadcasting companies.
“I’m Mark. This is ESPN, right?”
“Casey! Thank you for choosing MLB Network for us.”
And so on.
It happened in an instant.
Mark and Casey, already-verified stars, and Liam, the Cinderella story’s protagonist, conducted interviews with America’s major broadcasting networks.
You could see how well they understood the logic of capital.
Meanwhile.
“….”
The area around Soo-ho was relatively quiet.
Of course, some media outlets showed interest, but most major broadcasting networks’ cameras were focused on the American stars.
An unverified Asian player, and the possible language barrier—these prejudices were the limitations of being a foreigner.
Most players would have felt marginalized in such a situation.
But Soo-ho instead calmed himself with composure.
‘American major broadcasting networks? Fine. The reach is substantial.’
But to them, I was.
‘Just one among many.’
Filler content squeezed in during the time left after filming Mark or Casey.
Even if I pushed hard and conducted an interview in English there, it would be difficult to escape being treated as a supporting player.
My mental calculator spun rapidly.
‘What makes me different from them?’
Here, I needed something special about myself.
Only then could I convey my true value.
First….
‘I’m not American.’
A weakness?
‘It depends on what I do with it. So right now, in this very moment, I need to transform it into the most powerful weapon of all.’
In truth, this was an unexpected situation for Soo-ho as well.
I had anticipated interviews would happen before the games.
I never expected them to place such restrictions on me.
But that’s fine.
‘I’m a baseball player, after all.’
I must maintain composure no matter what unexpected situation arises.
Only then can I perform at my best.
This moment is no different.
‘If I just keep my mind sharp, I can turn this to my advantage.’
With that thought, my heart grew lighter.
Like a Daruma doll that springs back up no matter how many times it falls.
With my exceptional mental fortitude, as my unease faded, a brilliant idea suddenly struck me.
‘I found it. My strength.’
American players must divide the pie within the American market.
But me?
‘Perhaps what they don’t possess….’
What they can never possess.
I have fifty million people—a massive market obsessed with baseball—backing me.
One of the things American clubs salivate over most is the global fanbase that drives overseas broadcasting rights and merchandise sales.
That’s right.
My nationality is Korea.
No one else participating in this tournament carries the nationality of South Korea.
‘So there’s no need to squeeze into a narrow gap.’
A place where I can be king.
A place that will treat me as the protagonist.
‘I’ll prove my value to America in reverse through an interview with that place.’
I turned my head and scanned past the countless microphones.
And finally.
I spotted a familiar logo in the corner, its staff fidgeting anxiously, unable to call out to me.
‘Found it.’
A faint smile spread across my lips.
Without hesitation, I walked toward them.
* * *
As I passed the glittering major broadcasters and turned my steps toward the corner.
The group stationed there began to stir with excitement.
The logo on the camera read KBN Sports.
South Korea’s premier sports channel.
“What? Wait! He’s coming! Oh Soo-ho is heading this way!”
The cameraman urgently zoomed in while shouting.
Color returned to the faces of the staff, who had been thoroughly deflated.
They had naturally assumed they’d be overshadowed by American media, lucky to even exchange greetings.
Among them, the woman who had overseen this entire project reacted most intensely.
A reporter with jet-black hair cascading to her waist and piercing eyes—Han Ji-su herself.
‘Is he really… really coming here?’
Han Ji-su steadied the microphone with trembling hands.
Her heart pounded relentlessly.
It couldn’t be helped.
To her, Oh Soo-ho was far more than just another interview subject.
What is baseball in South Korea?
It’s the nation’s premier sport—the very thing that makes people weep and laugh every evening—woven into the fabric of daily life itself.
But.
For her, a correspondent covering overseas players, those days had felt like an ice age.
‘There’s nothing left to write about…’
The pipeline of Major League prospects had run dry.
Fewer players dared to challenge themselves abroad, and those who did manage to debut typically returned home from the Minor League with their tails between their legs.
No matter how many foreign news sources she combed through each morning, Korean players’ names never appeared.
Then one day, during those listless stretches of time.
She was mechanically browsing the American Minor League website when her eyes froze.
She’d discovered a Korean name in the Arizona Fall League.
While the Arizona Fall League might be unfamiliar to casual fans, Han Ji-su—a specialist—knew exactly what it represented.
Yet there, in the very heart of that battlefield where stars clashed, was a Korean name.
‘Oh Soo-ho?’
The moment she saw that name, a forgotten memory flashed through her mind like lightning.
Five years ago, at a High School Baseball Field.
A gaunt boy in a worn-out glove and frayed spikes, yet he dismantled pitchers from prestigious schools.
That child whose eyes burned with fierce determination despite the cruelest circumstances—poverty and orphanhood.
-[The Orphan’s Rebellion: A Miracle at the Batter’s Box.]
Oh Soo-ho had been the subject of her first major scoop.
Interviewing Soo-ho back then had left a profound impression on her.
Baseball is an expensive sport.
Between lesson fees and equipment costs alone, the expenses are staggering.
Yet that boy’s tenacity—surviving on nothing but grit and determination, without a single sponsor—had been absolutely radiant.
But reality proved merciless.
Soo-ho had indeed been selected first overall in the first round of the KBO rookie draft.
But she later heard he’d been released from the Minor League.
Han Ji-su had mourned and buried that name in her heart.
And yet…
That boy she’d thought had failed—not in Korea, but in America, baseball’s true homeland.
And his name now appeared on the roster of the All-Star Game, where only the most elite prospects gathered.
‘This is… beyond even calling it a scoop.’
It was a miracle.
No—it was a human drama of triumph.
Han Ji-su immediately persuaded the League Director and booked a flight, even offering to pay out of her own pocket.
She had to capture the climax of this drama with her own camera, no matter what.
And now.
Soo-ho stood before her like something out of a dream.
The youthful innocence from his high school days had vanished.
In its place stood a professional athlete—muscular, composed, and wearing an easy smile.
Han Ji-su found herself speechless, overwhelmed by emotion.
Where should she even begin?
Or would he even recognize her?
‘It’s been so long—he might have forgotten all about me.’
Just then, Soo-ho stepped forward and bowed his head slightly.
“You’ll introduce me to the United States in a cool way too, won’t you, Reporter Han Ji-su?”

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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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