Chapter 89

Chapter 89, My First Perfect Game

There was not a single cloud in the sky above Masan.

The rain that had fallen throughout the night had disappeared without a trace, and the air was heavy with heat.

The pain in my body was still there, but the moment I stepped onto the mound, all my senses came together.

I had now learned how to turn even pain into strength.

My heart pounded fiercely.

I clenched my teeth.

“Let's really show them today.”

Yoon Jae-jun held out his mitt from behind me.

“Seong, are you sure your body is okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Today is about revenge.”

In the top of the first, our team was already on the attack.

Kwon Geon-woo hit a double, Daniel Sanchez recorded an RBI single up the middle, and Yoon Jae-jun added a sacrifice fly.

In only fifteen minutes, the scoreboard showed 3-0.

The stands shook with excitement.

“Oceans! Oceans!”

Now it was my turn.

Manager Seo I-hun's seat was empty in the Wolves dugout.

He was absent because of his suspension.

I slowly pulled down the brim of my cap.

Bottom of the first.

The first batter.

168 km/h, four-seam fastball.

The mitt rang out.

Gasps erupted from the stands.

“How fast was that?”

“164! No, that one was 168!”

I had continued strengthening my body.

Especially for a day like today.

Because of me, the season's highest pitch velocity had just been broken again.

No.

At this point, I could call it the highest velocity in Korean baseball history.

Choi Seong

Pitcher Status Window (Super Rookie +10%)

• Stamina: 134/200

• Fastball: 100+10/100 (Limit Break available)

• Slider: 76+7/100

• Circle Changeup: 50+5/100

• Power Curve: 40+4/100

• Curve: 20+2/100

• Screwball: 10/100 (Championship Mercenary)

• Injury Risk: 8.2% (Increasing the number of slots will increase injury risk.)

Batter Status Window

• Power: 91+9/100 (Limit Break available when exceeding 100)

• Contact: 80+8/100 (Limit Break available when exceeding 100)

• Speed: 50+5/100 (Limit Break available when exceeding 100)

• Injury Risk: 20.5% (Injury risk increases as pitching appearances and plate appearances increase.)

Potential (Activates when specific conditions are met)

• Indomitable Will: In his previous life, Choi Seong created miracles in every situation. Reduces emotional fluctuations.

• Sweet Revenge: Activates when Choi Seong is hit by a pitch or receives an intentional walk during a game. It also activates when his emotions are stirred. All stats temporarily increase by 20%.

• Championship Mercenary: Activates when the team finished near the bottom of the standings in the previous season. Allows the use of one chosen breaking-ball pitch for the entire season without increasing injury risk. (Selected pitch: Screwball)

• Super Rookie: All stats increase by 10% during the debut season. If Choi Seong wins an award such as MVP or Rookie of the Year, additional stats will be granted and this potential will evolve.

• Spoiler Squad: All pitching and batting stats increase by 1 when facing a team that is higher in the standings or on a winning streak.

• One Who Leads to Glory: All stats increase by 1.

• Record Breaker: Whenever Choi Seong breaks a personal record, all stats increase by 10% in the next game.

• No-Hit Pitcher: All stats increase by 10% when there are no runners on base.

• Hit for the Cycle: All stats increase by 20% during the first plate appearance.

• Patriot Choi: All stats increase by 30% when facing Japanese or Chinese opponents.

The second pitch came, followed by the third.

My slider completely overwhelmed the opposing leadoff hitter.

Swinging strikeout.

Against the second hitter, I threw a screwball on the first pitch.

It followed a path that seemed to dig into the ground.

Another strikeout.

For the third hitter, I threw a four-seam fastball that perfectly attacked the inside corner.

The umpire raised his hand.

I left the mound after recording three strikeouts in the first inning.

The moment I entered the dugout, Kim Byeong-hee shouted.

“Master! I truly respect you, sir! I'll serve you for the rest of my life!”

I simply nodded without saying anything.

My heartbeat accelerated.

It felt as though my muscles were burning.

The second inning.

I returned to the mound.

My heart began pounding again.

The movement at the end of my pitches felt different.

The crowd was already going wild.

“168! That's 168! How can he throw that fast and still hit the corners?”

I knew what was happening.

After all my training, my four-seam fastball had finally reached the level required for Limit Break.

However, no new status window had appeared, so I calmly waited.

Still, I could feel it.

This pitch was now different from everyone else's.

All that remained was the actual Limit Break.

My body reacted on its own, and the ball seemed to move faster than my will.

In the second inning, I recorded two strikeouts and one infield groundout.

Perfect pitching.

When I returned to the dugout, Manager Rodriguez smiled.

“Whew. Your eyes look fierce today, Choi Seong.”

“I'm just getting started.”

“Good. Let's keep going until the end. You certainly deserve to win today.”

In the top of the third, our lineup exploded again.

Yoon Jae-jun hit a solo home run.

Yugam added a double.

And Go Gyeong-tae brought home another run with a sacrifice fly.

6-0.

We had opened up a large lead early.

I slowly steadied my breathing and walked back to the mound.

Now the real game begins.

I calmly stared at the opposing lineup.

By now, they had become something like prey to me.

168 km/h.

I kept matching my previous velocity record.

Soon, I would reach 169 km/h.

And eventually, I would reach 170 km/h, the speed people called the limit of human ability.

It was the weight of my anger and proof of my own strength.

The umpire made his call.

“Strike! Strikeout!”

I had recorded perfect pitching for three consecutive innings.

In the fourth, I fixed the ratio of four-seam fastballs to sliders at seven to three.

I attacked the outside twice, then threw the same trajectory a hand's width higher.

The bat cut through empty air.

Another strikeout.

Against the next hitter, I used a circle changeup.

The batter completely lost his timing.

The end of his bat wavered, and he struck out looking.

Against the third batter, I threw two inside four-seam fastballs to keep his attention there.

Then I finished him with an outside slider.

Through four innings, I had retired nine consecutive batters and recorded my eighth strikeout.

In the fifth, the crowd's cheering filled the field with more excitement than ever.

I slowed my breathing to match its rhythm.

I threw a first-pitch screwball to the leadoff hitter and induced a groundout.

After that, I used the same trajectory but changed the velocity.

165 km/h, four-seam fastball.

Swing and miss.

Against the next hitter, I disrupted his timing with a curveball before dropping a slider low.

Another strikeout.

Against the final hitter, I threw three consecutive four-seam fastballs.

166 km/h.

167 km/h.

Then 168 km/h.

The mitt rang out three times.

Swing and miss.

I had recorded eleven strikeouts through five innings.

In the sixth, Yoon Jae-jun narrowed his eyes behind his mask and placed his mitt at the very edge of the outside corner.

“Here.”

I nodded.

The batter simply watched the first-pitch four-seam fastball.

The second pitch was a slider that followed the same trajectory but dropped half a ball farther.

It induced a swing and miss.

The third pitch was another four-seam fastball.

The batter's swing seemed nailed to empty air.

Strikeout.

I did not change my approach much against the next two hitters either.

Only the velocity, height, direction of their eyes, and their expectations changed.

An outfield fly.

Then another strikeout.

End of the sixth.

Thirteen strikeouts.

I had not allowed a single hit through six innings.

It was still a perfect game.

The zeros lined up beautifully across the scoreboard.

Inside the dugout, Kim Byeong-hee whispered,

“Master, is this going to be that thing today, sir?”

I did not answer.

Instead, I ran my thumb over the stitching of my glove.

The feeling remaining in my fingertips told me something.

It's possible.

In the seventh, the batting order returned to the leadoff hitter.

He took a bunting stance.

The batter waited until the last moment before placing his bunt on the ground.

I immediately charged forward, picked up the ball with my bare hand, and threw to first.

“Out!”

The next hitter fell behind by two strikes after seeing two sliders.

I finished him with a four-seam fastball above the strike zone.

Swinging strikeout.

The third hitter sent a fly ball directly into Kwon Geon-woo's glove.

The wind had changed, but the ball's path had not.

I was getting closer and closer to a perfect game.

In the eighth, Davis, the cleanup hitter, stepped into the box.

He was last season's home run king, but he always seemed to shrink whenever he faced me.

This year, he was ranked third in home runs, just behind me.

I challenged him directly with three pitches.

A 167 km/h four-seam fastball.

A 150 km/h slider.

Then another 168 km/h four-seam.

His bat was late.

The ball exploded into the middle of the mitt.

Strikeout.

The fifth and sixth hitters met the same fate.

The pitch combinations were slightly different, but the result was the same.

Seventeen strikeouts in total.

Meanwhile, our hitters had become merciless.

Yoon Jae-jun hit another home run, giving him a second in consecutive at-bats.

Sanchez hit a double.

Yugam struck a lightning-fast line drive.

Kim Hak-seong added an RBI single up the middle.

By the end of the bottom of the eighth, the score was 15-0.

Even though we were in Masan rather than Sajik Stadium, waves of blue filled the stands.

Even the Masan fans could not bring themselves to leave.

If things continued this way, they were about to witness a record that had never been achieved in Korean baseball history.

Top of the ninth.

Manager Rodriguez looked at me.

There was a strange intensity in his eyes.

“How's your shoulder?”

“It's fine.”

He nodded briefly.

“Then let's make history.”

The first hitter was the seventh batter.

Yoon Jae-jun placed his mitt low and outside.

167 km/h, four-seam fastball.

149 km/h, slider.

The crowd held its breath.

For the final pitch, I threw another four-seam into the same location.

The batter's swing was one frame too late.

Eighteen strikeouts.

I had tied the previous record.

The second hitter, batting eighth, stepped into the box.

For the first time, I used a changeup on the first pitch.

The batter lost his timing, and his knees shook.

Foul.

Second pitch.

A power curve that broke sharply inside.

The enormous drop froze the batter's swing.

No balls, two strikes.

I took a breath and carefully felt the two rows of stitching beneath my fingertips.

Another four-seam fastball.

Thud!

The ball struck the mitt.

[Choi Seong Records 19 Strikeouts, Sets New Korean Record]

The numbers on the scoreboard flashed.

Seon Dong-hwan had recorded eighteen strikeouts in 1991, and Ponce had matched that record in 2025.

That barrier had finally been broken.

The crowd roared like mad.

But it was not over yet.

The final hitter, batting ninth.

Every eye in the dugout and every voice in Masan focused on this one at-bat.

I emptied my mind.

Anger, memories, and pain.

I let go of everything.

First pitch, screwball.

Foul tip.

One strike.

Second pitch, four-seam fastball.

The batter could only watch it pass.

Two strikes.

Yoon Jae-jun moved his mitt just slightly toward the outside.

A single nod.

Now.

I clenched my teeth and took one final, powerful step.

The stitching seemed to burn across my fingertips as the ball left my hand.

164 km/h.

The batter completely lost his timing.

His bat cut through empty air.

The umpire's right arm shot toward the sky.

My twentieth strikeout.

Two-thirds of the hitters who had stepped into the batter's box had struck out.

“Strikeout! Game over!”

For a moment, all sound disappeared.

It was as though the entire world had taken a breath.

Then everything exploded.

Water bottles burst, caps flew through the air, and my teammates rushed toward me.

Yoon Jae-jun removed his helmet, put it on my head, and shouted.

“Twenty! Twenty strikeouts, you crazy bastard!”

A new record appeared on the scoreboard.

This was clearly an away game, yet it felt as though we were playing at home.

[First Perfect Game in History + 20 Strikeouts]

The night sky over Masan seemed to split apart with blue lightning.

Camera flashes rained down like starlight.

Interview microphones crowded around me, but I said only one sentence.

“My teammates protected me, and that's why I was able to keep pitching.”

As soon as I finished speaking, subtitles appeared on the giant screen.

Manager Rodriguez embraced me in the dugout.

“Korean baseball is changing because of you, Choi Seong...”

I shook my head.

“Today, I only turned one page of history.”

High in the VIP section, I saw a small hand waving a scarf.

It was Lee Su-rin.

That wave stayed with me like a long, gentle wave on the sea.

Back in the locker room, I touched the stitching on my glove again.

My fingertips were still hot.

Just then, I heard that the Seoul Triples, who had been chasing us so persistently, had lost.

The gap was now two games.

Next, we would face the Gwangju Jaguars at home.