The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 98

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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 98
Only one week remained until the playoffs.
As I stepped into the Desert Dogs Locker Room for training, greetings poured in—markedly different from usual.
“Hey! You made it?”
“Saw you in the All-Star Game yesterday. You were absolutely insane.”
“Congrats on the MVP. You owe us a celebration, right?”
These were teammates who would normally have just nodded in passing.
Yet today, they came over and gave me high-fives.
Some even gave me thumbs up.
These were gestures I’d never seen from them before.
With my keen sense of perception, I detected that the very air around me had shifted.
‘The atmosphere is… strange.’
If the Locker Room had previously felt like a waiting area where everyone loosened up and managed their conditioning,
it now resembled a trench awaiting deployment.
All traces of laughter had vanished.
In their place settled only a heavy, oppressive silence and sharp, piercing gazes.
Fortunately, I could instinctively sense what this meant.
‘It’s the final opportunity.’
They were beginning to rev their engines, preparing to pour every ounce of remaining strength into the coming battle.
‘The players who competed in the All-Star Game yesterday have suddenly risen to stardom.’
But to be honest, becoming a star at the All-Star Game paled in comparison to becoming a Major Leaguer.
So my teammates’ grim expressions had a clear reason.
As Casey had said, this playoff was the real battlefield.
‘Only by proving my clutch ability to lead the team to victory here can I hope for an invitation to the Major League Spring Camp, and beyond that, a call-up to the Big League.’
I turned my head.
The usually quiet Catcher Tom had gathered the pitchers and was loudly issuing instructions.
“Listen up! During bullpen pitching today, watch the signs carefully! In the playoffs, we need to focus even more on holding runners!”
This was a player who normally said nothing.
Yet suddenly, he was taking on a leadership role.
The reason was obvious.
‘He’s trying to score points on the evaluation criteria—leadership and Dugout control.’
Meanwhile, in the corner, the infielders had gathered and were engaged in heated discussion about defensive shifts.
This too was a move to appeal their understanding of tactics.
‘This certainly won’t be easy.’
I bit my lip firmly.
Until now, the Arizona Fall League had been strictly a stage for individual performance.
‘Now everyone has changed their survival strategy.’
Some were beginning to dedicate themselves to the team rather than themselves.
Others were starting to display leadership qualities.
Whether it was an act or genuine, the result was clear—the team’s overall strength would rise dramatically.
Soo-ho fell into deep contemplation as well.
‘What should I demonstrate?’
How could he score more runs?
And more importantly… could he lead the team to victory?
In truth, this was a dilemma that had plagued Soo-ho even before arriving here.
How could he transform this ragtag Desert Dogs into one unified team?
Baseball is a team sport.
A single exceptional ace could carry the team to victory through sheer brilliance, but the odds of that were low.
Rather, when the entire roster performed consistently, the probability of victory soared exponentially, and the risk diminished accordingly.
If the pitcher allowed five runs, the batters would score six.
If the batters fell silent, the pitcher would shut out the opposition. That organic synchronization was what truly mattered.
‘That’s the path to a championship.’
But look at the Locker Room now.
Everyone was stepping forward, declaring themselves the leader.
They all shared the same conviction.
‘That they would lead the team and score the winning runs themselves.’
Here, Soo-ho had to judge with cold clarity.
When everyone else was shouting about team unity and raising their voices, was it truly right for him to do the same?
‘No. Honestly, it’s laughable for me to position myself as a leader.’
Soo-ho shook his head.
He had to face reality.
Though he’d received notification of his promotion to Double-A, they didn’t know that fact.
‘Even if they did, it wouldn’t change anything.’
Soo-ho’s promotion to Double-A was merely on paper—he hadn’t played a single game for them yet.
In their eyes, he remained nothing more than a fortunate Low-A prospect who’d gotten lucky.
But the greatest barrier loomed before him.
‘I’m Korean.’
It was a harsh, painful truth.
Would these prideful American players truly listen obediently to an Asian?
Of course, if this were anywhere but the Ground, it might have been possible.
America was a pragmatic nation, after all.
They would have accepted a rational proposal.
But this was the Ground.
Over the past three months experiencing American baseball, Soo-ho had learned one bitter truth.
‘I’ve watched it all unfold… and it’s even worse than Korea.’
The land of freedom?
An open-minded culture?
Half true, half false.
At least on the Ground, American baseball was far more conservative and hierarchical than Korea.
‘In blunt terms, the old-guard mentality was more entrenched here, not less.’
Players from higher leagues crushing those from lower leagues was routine, and veterans dismissing rookies’ opinions was everyday practice.
I’d experienced it myself, after all.
Granted, it was from Liam, who was now my friend.
Still, the other players would likely continue to look down on me.
After all, they’d dismissed Casey and Mark too.
This was simply how the game worked at this level.
In such a brutal hierarchy, could an Asian player barely three months in really step forward and start barking orders?
Rather than unifying the team, I’d only provoke resistance and shatter team chemistry.
Words alone wouldn’t cut it.
That left only one path forward.
Leading without stepping into the spotlight.
Making them move without issuing commands.
My eyes narrowed with determination.
A different road than the rest.
But the most certain path crystallized in my mind.
A baseball player has to prove it through their play.
That was it.
The surest way to lift the team’s morale.
So this wasn’t the time for words.
The real question was whether I could lead the team to victory with my current abilities.
I didn’t think so.
My record in the Arizona Fall League so far had been this.
Because I was dismissed as coming from Low-A, I’d managed strong performances early on.
I’d sharpened my batting sense that way and gotten lucky enough to produce results here.
I’d even taken down stronger opponents.
But was that truly skill?
I’d only won by turning their psychology against them.
Of course, at the All-Star Game, I did completely shut down Victor.
That was genuine skill.
But unfortunately, it was far too isolated a performance.
The All-Star Game was just a single game, after all.
In baseball, a player who performs well in one game doesn’t get highly evaluated.
Ultimately, I’d need to perform in the playoffs too.
Comparing the level of the playoffs to the All-Star Game.
The All-Star Game is at a higher level.
But the real problem here was the players’ mindset going into the playoffs.
Players standing at the cliff’s edge with nowhere to retreat would fight with everything they had.
And there was one more thing.
My status had risen after winning the All-Star Game MVP.
It meant the road ahead would be far more difficult.
‘He won’t make this easy for me.’
If anything, he’ll come at me harder.
If my opponent had been treating me as a warm-up until now.
From this point forward, he’ll view me as a core member and pitch with everything he has.
‘So I can’t be confident that I’ll perform well in the playoffs with my current abilities.’
No. The probability of success would be extremely low.
Soo-ho was evaluating his own performance with cold objectivity.
Because he believed that only by doing so could he continue to improve.
Some might call it harsh.
But the United States is the birthplace of baseball.
To compete on the highest stage.
To survive, I had to push myself to the absolute limit.
So what should I do?
‘There’s no choice but to grow beyond where I am now.’
But how can I grow?
Should I develop my hitting further?
‘Honestly, that’s difficult.’
Soo-ho was already performing at 120% or more in his hitting.
But he had only learned the mechanics of hitting so far.
He hadn’t learned the other elements.
So for now, he had reached his ceiling.
Therefore, his current hitting growth plate was effectively closed.
‘Wait. Then?’
Had a good idea just occurred to him?
With a smile, Soo-ho quietly rose from his seat and left the Locker Room.
Before long, he arrived at the Director’s Office where Harry Miller, the manager of the Desert Dogs, was located.
‘Phew.’
Knock, knock.
After taking a deep breath, he rapped on the door, and a voice came from inside.
“Come in.”
* * *
With the brief, decisive permission granted, Soo-ho opened the door and stepped into the Director’s Office.
Manager Harry Miller sat at his desk, reviewing charts.
Sunglasses still perched on his face despite being indoors.
Though his eyes beyond them weren’t visible, Soo-ho could feel the weight of his gaze directed at him.
In truth, while he had received instructions or had conversations in the Dugout a few times before.
‘This is the first time I’ve been alone with him like this.’
Usually, being called to the Director’s Office meant receiving a release notice or hearing about a trade.
Since this is the Arizona Fall League, a release or trade was unlikely.
But most summons came for unfavorable reasons.
But Soo-ho came on his own two feet.
This meant he had come to negotiate with the Manager.
Soo-ho paused to catch his breath, then looked at Harry.
‘The Manager is… truly unpredictable.’
Harry Miller, as I had come to understand him, was a truly unique individual.
I recalled my first days at this facility.
He had unceremoniously relegated Mark, Casey, and myself to Team B.
In other words, the weaker squad.
By grouping together players with low expectations, he intended to use us as practice partners for the starting-caliber players.
But when I and my companions overturned that arrangement through sheer skill, Harry shifted his stance without hesitation.
He immediately promoted us to the starting lineup and fixed me as the leadoff batter.
The meaning was unmistakable.
‘A man devoted entirely to victory and pragmatism.’
Of course, I didn’t view this as a flaw.
Because in the Professional Baseball World, results matter far more than process.
Who could fault him for playing the winning card to achieve results?
And truthfully, I was grateful for his cold pragmatism.
If Manager Harry had been the type to obsess over fairness?
‘I would never have received so many opportunities at the Batter’s Box.’
Leadoff batter.
The position that steps up to bat more than anyone else.
Thanks to that, I was able to accumulate experience faster than my peers.
And as a result, I not only earned selection to the All-Star Game but also claimed the glory of MVP.
None of this growth would have been possible without Harry’s flexible tactical acumen.
‘So he won’t flatly reject my request.’
I was certain of this.
If he judged that my proposal would benefit the team’s victory, he would accept it.
Harry, sunglasses still in place, asked bluntly.
“So, you have something to say?”
I hesitated no longer.
“Manager, may I ask for a favor?”
“A favor? What is it?”
What came from my lips was unexpected.
“I’d like to change my position starting today.”
“Change position? Tell me more.”
“Yes. I want to play as Shortstop… not Center Fielder.”
Harry’s eyebrows twitched behind his sunglasses.
And for good reason—I had played Center Fielder throughout the Arizona Fall League.
For the team’s permanent center fielder to request moving to Shortstop, the commanding position of the infield, right before the most crucial playoffs, was nonsensical.
By any rational standard, it made no sense.
“What’s your reason?”
Harry’s question prompted Soo-ho to deliver his prepared answer.
“I want to lead the team to victory.”
“What does moving to Shortstop have to do with winning?”
“The impact is different.”
Soo-ho explained his thinking with clarity and structure.
Center Fielder was certainly important too.
As the commander of the Outfield, I had to cover a wide range.
But let’s be realistic about it.
Where does the ball go most often in baseball?
The infield. Especially Shortstop.
Center Fielder was the second most important position after infielders.
But that proportion definitely drops off.
Of course, baseball is ultimately a sport about scoring runs.
I didn’t deny that fact either, but baseball wasn’t played alone.
No matter how much I went 4-for-4 at the Batter’s Box, if the defense collapsed and gave up 10 runs, we’d lose.
‘Especially for a team like ours with a weak Mound.’
Stepping into the Batter’s Box happened maybe four or five times per game at most.
But defense meant standing on the Ground for all nine innings.
To lead the team to victory in the playoffs.
To change the momentum, stability in defense was far more crucial than a single hit at the plate.
“Center Fielder can only be involved when the ball leaves the infield. But Shortstop is different.”
Shortstop handled infield grounders, covered 2nd Base, backed up 3rd Base, and made relay plays from the Outfield.
Excluding the Pitcher, it was the position with the highest impact across the entire Ground.
‘Above all, the Desert Dogs’ weakness right now is infield defense.’
When the Pitchers wavered, grounders came frequently.
Each time, infielders made errors or missed easy grounders.
I’d seen games blow open that way several times.
“If I play Center Fielder defense, I can erase one hit, but as Shortstop, I can end an entire inning.”
Clutch defense.
And in terms of win contribution, Shortstop carried more weight than Center Fielder.
Above all, Shortstop was the position that could most actively fill the team’s gaps.
Therefore, I was pursuing growth in defense.
In baseball, defense.
Might not lead a team to victory.
But it could prevent defeat.
And I deliberately projected confidence from the start.
Even though I’d played Center Fielder the entire time since coming to the United States, Shortstop honestly felt unfamiliar.
Even though it was uncertain whether I could do it well.
But that was the thing—even baseless confidence ultimately proved persuasive.
Isn’t that right?
‘I can do well!’
And this.
‘Couldn’t I do well?’
The impact was entirely different from the start.
Harry stroked his chin, sinking into profound silence.
“Hmm….”
What would be the answer of Harry, that opportunist?
It was a moment when all eyes were on his response.

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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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