The Genius Pitcher Dad Throws for His Daughter - Chapter 46

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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 46
#46.
Seoul Buffaloes.
The batters preparing for today’s game were overwhelmed by a crushing fatigue.
“Ugh! Why am I so exhausted?”
“Something feels off—I’m completely drained.”
“Everything feels heavy and sluggish.”
Though exhaustion was etched across every face, they stretched cautiously.
Everyone here understood.
As professionals, they knew all too well that pushing recklessly in such a state invited injury, so caution was their only option.
As they warmed up slowly and deliberately, their eyes drifted to one side.
They watched Jake, yesterday’s starting pitcher, conversing at ease with the Interpreter.
And then they understood.
‘Now I know how the batters who faced Jake must feel.’
‘Damn it. This recovery is harder than I thought.’
‘Even after the game ended and I swung the bat, I still haven’t recovered.’
Jake’s aftereffect.
The Buffaloes’ batting lineup had never imagined they’d experience the same aftereffect that KBO teams suffered after facing Jake.
The silver lining, however, was that they knew how to shake it off faster than other teams.
When batters who’d experienced this during Spring Camp fell into a slump, the team made a concerted effort to address it. As a result, they now knew how to recover from that aftereffect more quickly than any other team.
So after yesterday’s game, they underwent special training to adjust their batting feel as much as possible.
The fatigue that followed was unavoidable, but considering today’s game was on Sunday, the batters pushed themselves to shake it off while thinking about the games remaining next week.
And so they gathered before the game to shout their final rallying cry.
“Alright, Kang Ho-jin. According to our analysis, his tempo is fast. But essentially it’s one fastball followed by three breaking balls. You’ve all seen the Scouting/Analysis Team’s data. Fastball-breaking-fastball, breaking-fastball-breaking. Sometimes you get three fastballs in a row in the first inning, so keep that in mind.”
“Yes, sir!”
Everyone answered the Captain’s words with a resounding cry.
“Alright then, let’s win today. We don’t want to hear ourselves called pushovers who can’t beat the Dolphins, right? One, two, three!”
“Buffaloes!”
And so they headed toward the ground to begin the game.
The bottom of the first inning started with the Dolphins’ offense.
The players positioned in the infield and outfield each had their own routines, and then the Umpire’s call rang out.
“Play ball.”
Roooaaarrr!
The game began with the fans’ roar.
Today’s Buffaloes pitcher was Choi Jae-hyun, the third starter—a pitcher the Buffaloes had carefully nurtured.
His maximum velocity is 155 km, and while his stuff is excellent, his control isn’t particularly sharp. However, he’s a pitcher with sturdy stamina who can suppress opposing batters with sheer velocity alone, consuming many innings.
In other words, each inning takes a long time.
‘Ah… it’s so hot…’
‘Ugh, the fact that it’s still July is unbearable.’
‘I wish I could drink a cold beer under an air conditioner.’
Everyone’s minds churned with various thoughts, yet their eyes remained fixed on the Mound and the Batter.
An ordinary game, nothing more.
Given that it was a Buffaloes versus Dolphins matchup—where defense was kept brief and offense prolonged—they were filled with the desire to quickly retreat to the Dugout and cool off, as if they’d been working in a sweltering heat.
“Huh? What’s going on?”
“What are these guys doing?”
“Why are they being so persistent?”
And with good reason—the leadoff Batter was displaying remarkable tenacity, refusing to yield.
He was routinely working counts to two strikes, and whenever possible, he’d foul off pitches to extend the pitch count.
Yet this wasn’t simply a ploy to tire out the starting pitcher prematurely.
Rather, he was attacking aggressively with complete focus on every single pitch, which meant Choi Jae-hyun had already thrown seventeen pitches in the first inning alone.
“Phew, we’ll manage.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
“It’s just a moment. Don’t rush it.”
Some found fleeting relief in this respite, while others simply accepted it and resolved to wash away their concerns in one decisive stroke.
As the game progressed with each player maintaining their own rhythm, the leadoff Batter made his way to the Batter’s Box.
Kang Ho-jin! Kang Ho-jin!
As the overwhelming cheers for the starting pitcher erupted from the third base side, Jamsil Baseball Stadium resonated with thunderous applause.
‘At the end of the day, he’s just a Dolphins pitcher.’
In truth, the leadoff Batter’s assessment differed little from that of the entire Buffaloes lineup.
The Dolphins were a team that soared when things went well.
But when they fell, they plummeted without resistance to gravity—a team that proved this principle time and again.
That was precisely what the Dolphins were.
Considering their most glaring weakness—their pitching staff—yesterday’s performance was merely a fluke, something that happened once or twice a year at most.
That had been the reality of the Dolphins for the past decade.
With a half-dismissive attitude pervading the team, they’d engaged in batting practice to regain their timing after yesterday’s game, yet today’s matchup filled them with confidence.
‘Even if he pitches aggressively, it won’t matter against our team’s aggressive batting lineup.’
The Buffaloes’ batting order was painted in crimson.
Swinging freely regardless of the count, they’d generated countless hits through aggressive batting, and their roster was filled with Batters who could easily clear the sprawling Jamsil Baseball Stadium.
Pitch aggressively against such Batters?
‘I’ll just demolish him.’
The Scouting/Analysis Team had already completed their preliminary assessment of Kang Ho-jin.
And above all, one of their conclusions had piqued his curiosity most.
– His pitch count never exceeds 65. We suspect there may be some physical conditioning issue.
It was a reasonable observation.
Early in his career, he’d been managed carefully while working as a closer, and even after transitioning to a starting role, he hadn’t thrown high pitch counts—a judgment born from these facts.
Thus, the Buffaloes’ strategy was simple: watch pitches as much as possible before swinging, and additionally, generate fouls to force the starting pitcher out quickly.
‘Well then, shall we go hunting?’
The Batter, approaching prey that had only just debuted, stepped into the Batter’s Box with the ease of one about to consume an easy meal.
Glance.
Glance.
The Batter and Catcher exchanged a glance.
There was no conversation between them. While the Catcher had far more experience overall, the Batter held the edge in 1st Team tenure. So rather than exchanging words, they simply focused on the game ahead.
‘Come on, bring it.’
Determined to lay off the first pitch, I positioned myself not as a typical batter but as someone intent on tracking the ball all the way through.
Then, following the Umpire’s call, the first pitch came.
“Huh?”
I felt it immediately.
The moment the first pitch left his hand, something was off.
Crack!
“Strike!”
The sharp pop of the ball hitting the glove rang out alongside the Umpire’s call.
A bead of cold sweat rolled down my face as I watched that pitch from start to finish.
“What… what was that?”
The words escaped my lips unbidden.
The ball Kang Ho-jin had just thrown bore no resemblance whatsoever to the data the Scouting/Analysis Team had provided.
As I stood frozen in the Batter’s Box, unable to step back, Kang Ho-jin immediately delivered the second pitch.
Crack!
“Strike two!”
This one too came in heavy and forceful, planted squarely in the Strike Zone.
Only then did I snap to attention, stepping back from the Batter’s Box and clicking my tongue.
“What kind of pitch is that?”
The ball was insane.
It bore no resemblance to the data from the Scouting/Analysis Team. The ball was far heavier, its force incomparably greater. Worst of all, it created the illusion that the ball wasn’t sinking at all, which only added to the confusion.
“Damn bastard… is he only planning to pitch one inning?”
“Batter, to the box.”
My muttering was cut short by the Umpire’s urging, and I stepped back in.
I focused on fastballs.
I remembered Kang Ho-jin’s style of settling things with heat in the first inning. So I steadied my breathing and waited for the pitch.
‘Here it comes.’
It looked unmistakably like a four-seam fastball, so I swung without hesitation.
Whoosh!
The bat cut cleanly through empty air, and my body lurched awkwardly.
“Swinging batter, out!”
If the previous pitch had been 150 kilometers, this one was a 143-kilometer four-seam fastball.
Three fastballs.
And with controlled velocity at that, I stepped out of the Batter’s Box in utter defeat.
‘He’s even more of a damn monster than what the Scouting/Analysis Team showed.’
It was absurd—he was pitching as if he only cared about this single inning, yet he was still managing his velocity. I relayed what I’d felt to the next batter.
After removing my gear and explaining my observations to the other batters, I’d just sat down when—
“Let’s go defend.”
“Huh?”
Confused by what I was hearing, I glanced at the scoreboard and caught sight of Ho-jin’s pitch count.
Five.
Everyone except me had swung at the first pitch and completed the inning.
Then I heard the batters trudging back to the dugout muttering to themselves.
“Insane… the ball’s ridiculously heavy.”
“It came down the middle and I swung, but I got pushed back….”
They’d seen that fastball right down the pipe and thought it looked appetizing, so they swung—only to have every contact weakly fouled off by the sheer force behind it.
The architect of these batters’ anticlimactic exits bowed respectfully toward one section of the stadium from atop the mound.
And when everyone saw the couple displayed on the scoreboard, they understood.
Kang Ho-jin’s Parents had come to the stadium, and the scoreboard showed them gazing at their son.
His Mother, hands clasped together in a prayer-like gesture of reverence.
His Father, arms crossed, nodding with evident satisfaction.
The scoreboard captured both of them sending their son a look of unmistakable pride.
Roooaaaar!
Ho-jin! Ho-jin!
The first inning ended amid the fans’ thunderous roar.
And the game had only just begun.
* * *
“Phew!”
I took a deep breath as I entered the dugout.
To be honest, I’d thrown with more tension than I’d anticipated.
Pitching before countless spectators and before my parents—and with the Chairman supposedly attending as well—the pressure had been considerable.
Yet one thing remained certain.
‘This is joyful.’
Before I returned to the past, baseball had been merely for my deceased Daughter. Now it was baseball for my Parents and the fans as well.
My heart raced in the strangest way, and endorphins surged through me unbidden—so much so that today, the ball felt heavier than ever.
“Ho-jin, your stuff is really good today.”
“Hey, bro. Perfect!”
“Ho-jin, you’re doing great. Keep it up like this.”
Do-bin, who’d caught my pitches directly, praised me; Kevin gave a thumbs-up; and the Pitching Coach clapped with a satisfied expression.
“Thank you. I appreciate your support.”
I could have reveled in their praise, but instead I calmly steadied my racing heart.
‘The game has only just started.’
That’s right.
The game had only just begun.

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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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