The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 93

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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 93
‘Stay frozen.’
Taking a long lead off first base, Soo-ho’s eyes narrowed as he stole a glance at the batter’s box.
He read Casey’s condition with perfect clarity.
It was obvious at a glance.
His shoulders were bunched with tension, his lower body locked rigid as if rooted to the ground.
In that state, he could never connect with Victor’s pitches.
Casey was backed into a corner.
‘The MVP….’
Soo-ho’s lips moved slightly.
Let me calculate this coldly.
If Casey strikes out helplessly here and walks away?
One less competitor means my MVP odds skyrocket dramatically.
So perhaps the smart play right now is simply to watch.
But.
‘I’d rather die than win that way.’
Soo-ho shook his head.
I don’t want to win like that.
A trophy earned because my friend exhausted himself and collapsed?
I wouldn’t take it even if offered.
Just as Casey would, I wanted him to show his best self.
My nature demanded crushing a rival at their absolute peak—only then would I feel satisfied.
Besides.
‘I can only become a Major Leaguer by defeating Casey at his best.’
So I had to help.
There was only one way to loosen that rigid body.
‘I’ll shake things up.’
Draw the pitcher’s complete attention onto myself.
And this too was one of my advantages.
Victor stepped into his set position to throw the second pitch.
The moment the delivery began.
Soo-ho’s spikes tore violently into the dirt ground at first base.
Like a bullet fired from a gun, his body exploded toward second base in an instant.
Before Victor’s leg even fully lifted.
“He’s running!”
The catcher’s cry burst from his lips.
Victor hurriedly threw home, but the timing was already lost.
“Strike!”
As the umpire called it, the catcher fired the ball toward second base.
But faster than the ball were Soo-ho’s legs.
He slid smoothly, leading with his feet, and touched the base.
Using that momentum, he rose naturally from the base.
The movement was so fluid that admiration was the only response.
Like a gymnast connecting one motion to the next, it was a flawless sequence without a single wasted movement.
“Safe!”
The Second Base Umpire’s arms spread horizontally in a wide arc.
It was a steal he could take pride in.
Not merely because his feet were fast.
It was a masterwork of base-running sense and speed—he had perfectly stolen the Pitcher’s timing.
This aligned with the Major League Scouts’ assessments.
Among the five tools Soo-ho possessed,
this was the moment his fourth weapon—base-running ability, which he hadn’t yet displayed today—dominated the Ground.
With that, Soo-ho settled into Second Base, now in scoring position.
One hit and he could reach Home Plate at any moment.
Yet the Scoreboard showed a count of 0-2.
The situation remained absolutely favorable for the Pitcher, but the atmosphere in the Stadium had subtly shifted.
Victor’s focus had scattered, now divided toward the Third Base Runner.
And so,
‘As expected….’
Casey’s lips curved upward in the Batter’s Box.
His next action was
slow, deliberate, as if for all to see.
Scritch.
His spikes scraped roughly against the dirt ground of the Batter’s Box.
It was his trademark that emerged when he had no doubt.
* * *
Thud.
Casey’s spikes dug deeply into the dirt of the Batter’s Box.
A familiar sound, a familiar sensation.
With that single simple routine, his frozen heart began to beat powerfully once more.
The Scoreboard showed a count of 0-2.
For a batter, especially against a monster Pitcher like Victor Moretti, it was no different from a death sentence.
‘By any rational measure, this is a battle I cannot win.’
No matter how much of a genius Casey was called, he was still nothing but an unpolished gem.
But Victor was a finished Pitcher.
‘If this confrontation were a one-on-one duel…?’
Casey had to admit it.
He would have lost.
Before the overwhelming velocity, the suffocating killing intent, and that reputation of being closest to the Major League, he would have crumbled.
But the situation had changed.
This unfavorable 0-2 count felt strangely advantageous.
The reason was simple.
The monster on the Mound was distracted, his attention fixed not on me in the Batter’s Box but on the other monster on Second Base.
Casey’s gaze drifted past the Pitcher toward Second Base.
Soo-ho was taking a lead with casual confidence.
It was an audacious attitude—as if he would inevitably score.
‘You’re absolutely insane.’
In that moment, something scorching surged up from deep within Casey’s chest.
It wasn’t simple gratitude.
It was awe welling up from the marrow of his bones, and it was envy.
‘That iron heart—unflinching even against a prospect destined for the Major League….’
Casey felt consumed by admiration.
There was no way around it.
He himself wasn’t the type to be intimidated anywhere.
Since his amateur days, he had always been the best, confident that he could defeat any opponent.
But today, when he collided with the towering wall that was Victor, Casey felt fear for the first time.
Even though he had beaten him once before, even though he had hit a home run in the first inning.
The suspicion that his one victory might have been mere chance.
When the opponent came at him with true intent, his foundation crumbled and he was trampled mercilessly.
That suffocating darkness was bleaching his mind white.
‘But what about Soo-ho?’
He was certainly more technically rough than me, a player with less flashy tools.
Yet before that colossal wall, he didn’t flinch once.
Instead, he was breaking through defiantly, shaking it, trampling it, and mocking it.
‘How is that even possible?’
Why don’t you shrink back when facing an opponent so much stronger than you?
Why don’t you feel fear?
‘That must be… your talent. And I really covet it.’
Because the Major League is the final destination for baseball players.
It’s a den where monsters from around the world gather.
A jungle where those stronger than you are scattered like fallen leaves.
To survive there, no.
To become a ‘king’ even there, you absolutely need that heart.
‘So right now, I’ve lost to you, Soo-ho.’
A complete defeat.
But.
‘The game isn’t over yet.’
Casey tightened his grip on the bat.
‘If you’ve set the stage, then I’ll prove it my own way.’
With this bat—my greatest weapon.
Victor took the set position on the Mound.
His eyes darted nervously toward Second Base.
When Soo-ho widened his lead and made a flinching motion, Victor’s brow furrowed.
‘Does it bother you? Are you going crazy?’
In that fleeting moment when the pitcher’s concentration fractured, Victor began his delivery.
Whoosh!
A 98-mile fastball that drifted toward the high outside corner.
With the count at 0-2, it was a calculated bait—designed to induce a swing and miss, or at worst, a weak fly ball.
But Casey was already prepared.
His composure, restored thanks to Soo-ho.
In that calm mind, the ball’s trajectory crystallized with the clarity of slow-motion footage.
‘This much is….’
Casey’s upper body rotated smoothly.
It was not a swing powered by brute force.
It was a technique that accepted the incoming ball’s speed and spin, snatching it with the sharpest point of the bat.
Crack!
A sharp, crystalline sound split the night sky.
The ball did not rise high.
Instead, it pierced past the First Baseman and shot in a straight line toward the Right Field Wall.
Everyone knew the moment it made contact.
That this was not a product of power, but a work of art born from perfect technique.
“…!”
By the time Victor turned his head, the ball had already vanished beyond the Right Field Fence, not even striking its top.
A two-run home run.
A miraculous reversal hit, born from overturning the absolute disadvantage of 0-2.
“Roooaaarrr!”
The Stadium erupted with a roar that seemed to shake the very ground.
Casey dropped his bat and jogged slowly toward First Base.
His chest swelled so full it felt ready to burst.
As he rounded Second Base, Soo-ho was there, jogging leisurely to meet him.
The most dependable and terrifying rival in the world—one who had saved him and helped him rise again.
When Casey crossed Home Plate, Soo-ho extended both hands.
Casey broke into laughter and met those hands.
Smack!
Then he spoke a single phrase.
“Did you see that?”
Soo-ho’s smile was radiant.
“Saw it crystal clear. We took down another Major Leaguer tonight.”
* * *
Victor Moretti had crumbled.
Right after Casey’s go-ahead two-run home run, Victor completely lost his composure.
Mark was not one to miss such an opening.
Stepping into the batter’s box immediately after, Mark seized the moment as Victor wavered and launched a back-to-back home run into the sky.
A prospect’s devastating removal from the game.
That shocking scene ignited the entire Western Team’s batting lineup.
Crack! Crack!
It was nothing short of a barrage.
The Western Team’s bats, riding high on momentum, showed no mercy, and the Eastern Team’s pitchers were relentlessly pummeled.
As a result, the score at the end of the fifth inning was 10 to 5.
The Western Team dominated with a commanding double-digit lead.
And in the Dugout before the fifth inning defense.
The Manager called over Soo-ho, Casey, and Mark.
“You three are done for this inning.”
A bolt from the blue—the substitution notice.
But the three of them nodded calmly in acceptance.
This was the All-Star Game, after all.
While victory mattered, the tournament’s true purpose was to give every selected prospect an equal opportunity to play.
No matter how brilliantly they performed, they couldn’t play the entire game.
Soo-ho jogged to his defensive position, taking his place at Center Fielder and pressing his cap down firmly.
‘What a shame.’
A bitter taste lingered in my mouth.
Today, my batting form was absolutely at its peak.
Power, technique, batting sense.
Everything meshing together perfectly.
I couldn’t remember ever feeling this good in my baseball career.
Because of that, the desire to step up to the plate one more time welled up inside me, but what could I do?
Rules were rules, after all.
‘Still, it’s fine. I gave it my all, didn’t I?’
One home run, one technical hit, and defense plus a stolen base.
I poured out everything I could show without regret.
At this point, I hadn’t just caught the Scouts’ attention—I’d tattooed myself into their minds.
‘Of course… it’s not over yet.’
Soo-ho tapped his glove sharply and shifted his focus.
As long as a player stands on the Ground, the game isn’t finished.
‘Being ahead by a large margin, or having a substitution planned—that’s no excuse to slack off. That’s not how a professional plays.’
Of course, some would laugh at that.
In a game already won, or at a point when substitution is imminent, why exert yourself further?
That would be foolish, they’d say.
In baseball, where the season stretches long, knowing how to pace yourself for future games is itself a skill.
But who was Soo-ho?
Haven’t I already tasted the bitterness of failure once before?
Every single second.
I was simply grateful to be out on the Ground, able to play baseball.
So it didn’t matter if I was called foolish.
‘I love this.’
Before long, the situation had shifted to one out with a runner on Third Base.
The East Division batter stepped into the Batter’s Box.
One outfield fly and the Third Base Runner could tag up and score.
The score gap was wide enough that it wouldn’t significantly impact the outcome, but naturally the Pitcher wanted to shut them down cleanly without allowing a run.
Crack!
The ball soared high with a crisp sound of contact.
The batted ball stretched toward the Center Fielder.
An ordinary outfield fly.
But it had considerable distance.
It was a deep fly ball that reached near the Warning Track.
‘Here it comes.’
I ran lightly toward the landing point of the ball.
The Third Base Runner was already narrowing his lead and taking his tag-up position.
He was a runner with quick feet.
It seemed he’d judged that this distance made a play at Home Plate entirely possible.
‘He’ll run, won’t he?’
Of course he would.
If the Center Fielder’s form faltered even slightly catching the ball, or if the throw was off by just a bit, he’d be safe.
But I had already calculated everything.
Snap!
The ball was sucked into my glove.
In that same instant, the Third Base Runner broke for Home Plate.
The moment the Stands’ attention locked onto Home Plate.
My motion was flawless.
I planted my momentum step and arched my upper body backward, then whipped my arm like a lash.
Whiiiing!
The sound of air being torn apart echoed.
The white ball leaving my fingertips traced a perfectly straight line, like a laser beam.
It was a clothesline throw, traveling nearly parallel to the ground.
Someone’s shout rang out.
“Go back! Wait—he’s a former Pitcher!”
“…!”
The Third Base Runner’s eyes widened as he charged toward Home Plate.
Honestly, it was a ridiculous thing to say.
Look at the distance, and look at that Asian’s physique.
No matter how much of a Pitcher’s background he had, it was still in front of the Warning Track.
But then.
‘Wait, hold on.’
The tearing sound grew disturbingly close to his ears.
‘Could it be?’
The moment the runner threw his body forward to slide.
The ball Soo-ho threw arrived at the Catcher’s glove first, as if defying logic.
Thwack!
The Catcher didn’t even need to move his glove.
He simply caught the incoming ball and waited for the sliding runner’s tag.
Before the runner’s foot could touch Home Plate, the Catcher’s glove brushed against the runner’s shoulder.
“Out!”
The Referee’s thunderous call echoed across the Stadium.
A perfect assist that erased the crisis of one out and a Third Base Runner with a single outfield fly.
In other words, a throw-out.
Standing ovation erupted from the Stands, which had been silent moments before.
A home run, defense, a hit, a stolen base.
And finally, that terrifying arm strength he’d just displayed.
It was the moment all five tools revealed themselves in a single game.

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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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