Chapter 71, Rivalry
Kwon Geon-woo stepped into the batter’s box.
I calmly watched from the bench.
He stared toward the opposing mound without looking especially nervous.
Not being nervous was important.
Except for Go Gyeong-tae, most people around me did not seem to feel much tension anymore.
They simply played baseball like machines.
And mechanically produced hits.
Tap!
Kwon Geon-woo quickly reacted to Hoshino Yuki’s pitch.
165 km/h.
Even though it was a fastball in the mid-160s, he did not panic.
He actually swung.
But it went foul.
He had been completely overpowered by the pitch quality.
Hoshino Yuki was considered one of the greatest talents Japanese baseball had ever produced.
Because of that, his stuff could be considered similar to mine right now.
167 km/h.
At this rate, that bastard might actually break the mythical 170 km/h barrier.
Kwon Geon-woo tried to attack Hoshino Yuki’s pitch again.
But he could only swing and miss.
The speed was already insane.
“So this is that famous fastball...”
Players around me spoke in admiration.
They were right.
Hoshino Yuki’s stuff was so good that you could believe it was a gift from God.
164 km/h.
Another blazing fastball came in.
Kwon Geon-woo was helplessly struck out on three pitches.
He returned to the bench and spoke.
“It feels like facing Choi Seong’s pitches. The ball finishes a little cleaner than Seong’s, but it’s still incredibly difficult.”
Kwon Geon-woo shook his head.
“Can you hit him next time?”
“Of course.”
When I asked, Kwon Geon-woo confidently nodded.
Now it was time for self-proclaimed superstar Cho Seung-hun.
“I’ll go hit one. The Majors are full of guys like this.”
The important part was that he had never actually earned a Major League promotion.
No one bothered arguing.
They only looked at him pitifully.
“If you try for extra bases, you’ll never hit him.”
Cho Seung-hun’s expression hardened at my words.
Still, he did not argue.
After losing the bet against me, he had become much more obedient.
His excessive self-confidence remained, but that was fine.
We could slowly fix it.
Crack!
Cho Seung-hun aggressively attacked a 160-plus km/h fastball on the first pitch.
“Out!”
The result was an infield fly.
The pitch had completely overpowered him.
“I just missed it.”
I did not respond to Cho Seung-hun.
I calmly loosened my body in the on-deck circle, then entered.
For reference, Cho Seung-hun had not simply missed.
He had been completely beaten by the pitch quality.
That was how fierce Hoshino Yuki’s pitches were.
How much has he improved?
In my previous life, people had called us geniuses of the same generation.
“...What?”
I could not help feeling confused when I looked at Hoshino Yuki.
He politely removed his cap and bowed to me.
Why suddenly?
I removed my batting helmet and returned the greeting.
Hoshino Yuki smiled.
His clean white teeth stood out.
I remained expressionless.
140 km/h.
A powerful slider broke outside on the first pitch.
I did not swing.
Ball one.
Was he planning to be this careful from the very first pitch?
Recently, Hoshino Yuki mainly used his fastball, slider, and the finishing pitch he was developing.
I knew exactly what that finishing pitch was.
Originally, he would not begin using it until his mid-twenties.
But in this life, he had started learning it five years early.
166 km/h.
The second pitch, packed with his determination to beat me, entered right through the middle of the strike zone.
Crack!
I swung without hesitation.
But it went foul into the stands.
His fastball was straightforward.
That was exactly why it was even harder to hit.
You had to overpower it with pure strength.
And Hoshino Yuki’s stuff was no joke.
150 km/h.
I knew what this pitch was.
In my previous life, I had endlessly envied Hoshino Yuki for one reason.
How can he keep throwing that pitch for so long without getting injured?
His body was literally blessed.
CRAAAAACK!
I caught the incoming forkball cleanly.
The difference from his fastball was only around 10 km/h.
I took advantage of that tiny timing gap and made contact.
It probably would not become a home run.
I had not put enough power behind it.
Still, the ball traveled far.
Then smashed into the fence.
“Go! Go!”
The first-base coach shouted excitedly.
I reached second standing up.
“Nice!”
The players and fans cheered.
Hoshino Yuki stared at me and laughed in disbelief.
I gave him a thumbs-up.
That forkball really was perfect.
Part of the reason I hit it was that he had not fully completed it yet.
Another reason was that I had spent far too long analyzing that pitch in my previous life.
The fifth hitter was Lee Byeong-hwan.
He was a hitter worth expecting something from.
But the moment I saw his first swing and miss, I sighed.
“Everyone’s taking hero swings...”
Except for Kwon Geon-woo, all our hitters were using extreme uppercut swings.
That meant they were trying to create extra-base hits no matter what.
They would never break through Hoshino Yuki like that.
In my previous life, that guy had set the Major League record for fewest home runs allowed.
Even then, his ERA was usually in the 2.00s.
That meant the way to attack him was not with extra-base hits.
It was with singles.
We did not need powerful uppercuts.
We needed jabs.
“Strikeout!”
The umpire shouted.
Lee Byeong-hwan returned to the bench.
Beside me, I heard the second baseman and shortstop encouraging Hoshino Yuki.
“That hit by number three was pure luck. You saw what they’re doing, right? You’re beating all of them today.”
“They’re nothing special. Don’t get nervous.”
Of course, I understood Japanese.
I heard every word.
Hoshino Yuki looked at me in panic.
I gave him a light smile and returned to the bench.
Next time, I would hit a home run.
Hoshino Yuki could not hide his surprise.
“It felt like someone who had seen this pitch before hit it.”
Choi Seong had calculated the angle and speed perfectly.
It was almost as if he had faced the pitch several times before.
But Hoshino had only shown that pitch three or four times even in Japanese professional baseball.
Was there something wrong with the pitch itself?
“The forkball was perfect. He just got lucky.”
The catcher who had received the pitch spoke calmly.
Had not the fifth hitter been completely helpless and struck out on three pitches?
That alone made it difficult to believe there was something wrong with the pitch.
Choi Seong had simply hit it too well.
“I’ll test it against him again later.”
“Good. And once our lineup turns over once, we’ll start getting a feel for Choi Seong too.”
Hoshino Yuki disagreed internally.
But outwardly, he forced himself to nod.
“Yes. I’ll trust the seniors.”
The Japanese players were optimistic about figuring out Choi Seong.
Hoshino Yuki thought completely differently.
Choi Seong’s current pattern was consistent.
After the Korea-Japan matchup had been decided, Hoshino had watched every single one of Choi Seong’s games.
Nothing looked different now.
Would Choi Seong really use only one pattern in such an important game?
“We need to consider the possibility that he’ll use many different breaking balls.”
“Yuki, he’s still just a Korean pitcher. He only started doing well in Korean baseball. You really think we can’t hit him?”
“You all studied the analysis material, right?”
The hitters laughed at Hoshino Yuki.
“Even with data baseball, this is easy enough. Did getting hit for a home run last time and giving up that double today scare you? The only opponent we really need to worry about is America.”
The seniors spoke as if Hoshino Yuki were an adorable child.
And in reality, that was how the world saw the tournament.
America and Japan were considered the overwhelming top two.
The rest were five average teams and one weaker team.
Crack!
Hoshino Yuki watched his seniors trying to attack Choi Seong.
Choi Seong’s ERA was elite even by Japanese standards.
Because of that, Hoshino could tell.
“Choi Seong is at his absolute best right now.”
His stuff had improved even more compared to before the season.
That was not all.
The pitch types seemed the same, but Choi Seong perfectly understood which pitches each hitter struggled with.
It seemed his opponent analysis was perfect too.
Japan currently had one problem.
Everyone wanted to become a hero in this unusual Korea-Japan match.
They were all taking hero swings.
They wanted to become stars by defeating Korea and attracting the scouts’ attention.
“Strikeout!”
But those hopes and decisions were about to collapse.
Choi Seong recorded three strikeouts using only twelve pitches.
All three hitters in the second inning struck out.
Should we focus more on contact?
Hoshino Yuki thought about several possibilities while watching those pitches.
The manager’s idea was simple.
“Aim for extra-base hits. Try to hit home runs and become the hero of this era.”
He continued demanding extreme uppercut swings.
Hoshino Yuki wondered why the manager insisted on it.
Then he reached a conclusion.
“He wants to increase Choi Seong’s pitch count too.”
Even in an international tournament, the Olympics limited pitchers to a maximum of 110 pitches for player protection.
If a pitcher threw more than 100 pitches, he had to skip two games.
If he threw 110 or more, he had to rest for three games.
Because of that, pitchers had no choice but to watch their managers carefully.
“His ERA is below 1.00, right? He’s even better than expected. There’s no obvious weakness.”
Even against Japan’s Major League hitters, Choi Seong did not react at all.
He simply recorded strikeouts and increased the out count.
The game continued like that.
The important thing was that neither Korea nor Japan could get a hit against the opposing pitcher.
The only person who had managed one was Choi Seong.
The crowd could not help becoming excited by the heated pitching duel.
“This isn’t easy.”
Choi Seong, Korea’s third hitter, came up again in the fourth inning.
Kwon Geon-woo and Cho Seung-hun had both been retired by Hoshino Yuki.
Kwon Geon-woo was difficult. Cho Seung-hun was easy.
Cho Seung-hun was overrated simply because he was a Korean player who had gone to America.
Kwon Geon-woo had improved more than expected since the last time Hoshino saw him.
He had fouled off pitch after pitch and forced Hoshino to throw seven.
145 km/h.
A forkball dropped sharply.
Choi Seong swung.
Crack!
The ball went foul with home-run distance.
That meant Choi Seong had already figured out the forkball.
Hoshino Yuki concentrated again and threw a fastball.
CRACK!
Choi Seong attacked that pitch too.
Another foul.
Hoshino Yuki could not hide his surprise.
Choi Seong kept producing home-run-like contact as if he already knew exactly what pitch was coming.
140 km/h.
This time, Hoshino intended to throw a chase pitch.
No matter how dangerous those foul balls looked, the count still favored him.
He threw a slider barely touching the edge of the strike zone.
CRACK!
A clean sound rang from the bat.
Hoshino Yuki instinctively turned around.
