"Yes, I'll get the bullpen ready, including Song Hyun-jun."
The manager's instructions earned a nod from Coach Jo.
In truth, even though he'd brought up Hyun-jun's name himself, the coach was eager to test out more pitchers in a game like today's—no need for Hyun-jun specifically.
'Deok-gu's words have been nagging at me.'
Lee Deok-gu's claim that Hyun-jun had thrown in the 140s.
He didn't fully buy it, but coming from the ever-diligent Deok-gu, it stuck in his mind.
'Once Su-ho comes off the mound, I'll recommend Park Jin-woong as the second pitcher and Song Hyun-jun as the third.'
With that, Coach Jo headed to the bullpen.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Seomun High's bullpen.
"Hey? Hyun-jun, what're you doing?"
"Warming up, obviously."
He answered his teammate's question while quickly loosening up.
All the while, he waited.
Shin Su-ho, the undisputed ace, was shaky from the start due to his fingernail injury.
Given the manager's personality, the odds of calling up the bullpen were high.
And sure enough, just minutes later, pitching coach Jo Jong-hoon appeared in the bullpen.
"Park Jin-woong, Song Hyun-jun."
The team's number-two starter, Park Jin-woong, and then his own name.
"Yes, sir!"
"Yep."
Not about to let Jin-woong beat him to it, he replied briskly and hurried over to the coach.
"Both of you, warm up."
"Got it!"
"Park Jin-woong after Shin Su-ho, then Hyun-jun, you're up next."
The coach's gaze shifted from Jin-woong to him, a look of expectation on his face.
To live up to that, he threw himself into warming up.
But where was Deok-gu?
"Deok-gu, catch for me."
"Ah, sure thing, sunbae."
Unfortunately, Deok-gu was catching for Jin-woong.
No choice—he handed catching duties to a freshman and focused on his practice throws.
Thwack! Thwaack!
He warmed up slowly.
With Jin-woong going second, there was no need to push too hard from the start.
"Huh?"
Even so, the freshman catcher receiving his pitches looked puzzled.
"Sunbae, you're overthrowing. Aren't you putting too much into practice throws?"
"What're you talking about?"
"Your velocity's faster than usual."
He chuckled lightly at the freshman's words.
His velocity had jumped seven whole stats in a single day.
Apparently, the difference was obvious even to a first-year catcher, not just Deok-gu.
"I'm not straining. You're good."
"Ah, okay."
After reassuring the catcher, he ramped up methodically, just like always.
Not rushed, but primed for peak condition on the mound.
"Hm."
Noticing something different about him, Park Jin-woong—who was practicing nearby—tilted his head.
Park Jin-woong. Seomun High's second-best after Shin Su-ho.
Righty three-quarters arm slot. Top velocity: 146 km/h.
Another rival, arms crossed, staring him down.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Focus on your throws, Park Jin-woong. You heard the coach— you're next on the mound."
Jin-woong smirked at his jab.
"Haha, Song Hyun-jun, you lecturing me? Worry about yourself."
"What?"
"Save the advice for after you touch 140."
Thud.
He caught the ball from the catcher and glared at Jin-woong.
"..."
The tense air between them left the bullpen underclassmen walking on eggshells in silence. He just smirked and fired back shortly.
"Fine."
"Huh?"
"Hit 140 km/h, and I can give you pointers, right?"
He'd tried to defuse things politely, but Jin-woong just scoffed.
"You? Good luck."
"It'll happen."
"Then prove it."
He ignored the provocation after that.
Thwack!
Instead, he focused on practice throws.
No point wasting energy on nonsense before a rare mound shot.
The game progressed swiftly after that.
By the sixth, the matchup against Deokyang High had taken an unexpected turn.
"Man, Shin Su-ho's the real deal. Shutting down Deokyang's powerhouse lineup for four scoreless innings in that spot."
"Velocity hit 157 km/h, too. Blood pouring from his nail, and still that fast... Su-ho's not human."
Shin Su-ho came down after four clean innings.
Park Jin-woong took the mound next.
"He's getting shelled."
Long story short, Jin-woong couldn't last two innings and gave up four runs.
"Song Hyun-jun!"
After Jin-woong surrendered a three-run homer to a Deokyang hitter, Coach Jo finally called his name.
"You're up! Your turn."
He clenched his fist at the coach's call.
The chance he'd craved was finally here.
"Yes, sir!"
Answering with force, he charged straight to the mound.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Back on a live-game mound after so long.
The vibe was chaotic.
The team's starting catcher—and pro-scouted power-hitting backstop—Shim Chae-geun couldn't hide his worry from behind the mask.
"Deokyang's bats are insane. Be careful."
He nodded at Chae-geun's warning and scanned the situation.
In that brief window, Jin-woong had allowed two more solid hits, loading the bases with one out? No—runners on first and third.
Score: 1-4.
Up next: Deokyang's cleanup hitter, Kang Cheol-woo.
Both runners were speed demons.
The opportunity had come, but the jam was nightmarish.
"Stay sharp. Two outs already—just need one out!"
At least it was two outs, as the catcher said. Small mercy.
Still, Chae-geun seemed to lack faith in the new pitcher—him.
"No straight matchups with your velocity. Go changeups heavy. You've got a good curve, so start with that."
Changeups. Tricky.
"First pitch sign: four-seam."
"What? No, why?"
"Deokyang doesn't swing at the changed pitcher's first offering. Gotta grab the strike first."
First pitch: always heat.
Thanks to Jin-woong buying time, his body was over 100% primed.
No way he'd waste this golden chance to show the manager—with eyes squeezed shut in desperation—his upgraded stuff.
Had to go full throttle from pitch one.
"Makes sense. Alright, first one's a four-seam right down the middle."
The offensive-minded Chae-geun, thankfully, went along.
Though not fully convinced.
"Still, play it safe. One mistake with your ball, and it's gone."
The plight of a slow-velocity arm?
He nodded silently at Chae-geun's morale-crushing caution.
"Play ball!"
His eyes gleamed at the ump's resumption call.
Pitcher change, but the manager stayed in the dugout.
Practice game, after all.
"Make it count."
He took the ball from the pitching coach instead, gripping it left-handed and glaring in at the plate.
Grip.
Batter: Deokyang's fourth, Kang Cheol-woo.
Lefty. Average .429. Slugging .571. OPS over 1.000—a monster slugger.
Way too much hitter for a comeback appearance.
No lie—it weighed on him.
But he'd overcome it.
"Just show 'em the ball."
The instant he toed the rubber, his fingertips reacted first.
The seams bit sharp into his skin.
Heart pounding wild, but his fingers were steady.
Power gathering in each digit, compressed, awaiting explosion.
Squeeze.
He tossed the pressure aside.
What he had to prove: faster velocity.
As promised to the catcher, just stuff it in the zone on the first pitch. That was it.
Whoosh!
He went into his windup.
First pitch: four-seam tight inside!
Targeted as inner as possible—no solid contact even on a swing.
Using his revamped delivery, he channeled full-body power to the ball's tip and unleashed.
Thwack!
Perfectly into the catcher's mitt.
Looking at it, certainty hit.
"Nailed it."
100%.
The full sensation in his hand screamed it.
His absolute best ball right there.
Shim Chae-geun, catching it himself behind the mask, wore a baffled look that proved it.
"Huh? Song Hyun-jun with this heat...?"
The batter seemed thrown off, too.
"What? Isn't Song Hyun-jun the slowball guy?"
In Kang Cheol-woo's puzzled voice, the ump raised his right hand.
"Strike!"
First-pitch call: strike.
He fielded the return throw, pretended to step off, and snuck a peek at the radar gun.
[142.1 km/h]
He'd done it.
Thrown 142 km/h.
Chest about to burst.
The stadium hushed for a moment, then scout chatter from the stands carried over.
"Not bad."
"Some guys bloom late. Looks like Song Hyun-jun's that type."
"Kid who topped out mid-130s his whole high school career—finally tapping his potential."
Admiring murmurs from afar.
"Let's watch a bit more."
A cooler voice, too, but success.
Scouts here for Shin Su-ho now eyed him.
Not Devils material yet, but he'd planted "Song Hyun-jun" in their minds.
Confirmed by the scouts scribbling furiously in their notebooks.
Good. Let's tango.
He fired again.
Crack!!
The Deokyang cleanup swung at pitch two—and the ball sailed foul over the left-field line into the stands.
Whew, dodged a bullet.
This freakish monster had reacted to his breaking ball on two after the four-seam one-one.
"What? Killer heat first pitch, then a curve outta nowhere?"
"...That's baseball. What're you, fouling a homer on that timing?"
"Foul don't count as homer."
Chae-geun sighed inwardly in relief and flashed the third sign quick: four-seam fastball again.
Perfect.
No hesitation on the heat sign—he focused every ounce of power into his fingertips and hurled at the mitt.
Thud.
Just three pitches in.
How hard he'd given it all—sweat trickled from his chin on that third delivery.
The ball sailed through the zone toward the mitt.
And Deokyang's slugger reacted.
Whoosh!!
Showdown.
Kang Cheol-woo, over 190 cm of frame condensed to a point, unleashing a power swing.
Vs. him—a scrub pitcher not even on the Blue Dragon Cup roster.
The duel ended with the ump's raised hand.
"Swing! Strike—batter's out!"
Ump's booming call. Strike three, swinging.
Three up, three down.
He checked the line score, then strode off the mound without regrets.
Victory.
He held it scoreless through the seventh and eighth, too.
Luck played a part, but he'd stabilized the mound Jin-woong imploded.
Bullpen lines: Park Jin-woong, 1⅔ IP, 4 ER.
Him: 2⅓ IP, scoreless.
And while he manned the hill, Seomun High rallied back to a 5-4 lead.
"Insane! Nice, Song Hyun-jun!"
"Hyun-jun, you're our bullpen ace now!"
Teammates showered praise.
He high-fived them all.
So this was winning pitcher vibes?
Chest burning hot.
Curious about the manager suddenly, his gaze drifted to the dugout where the coaches sat.
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