Chapter 18. Blue Dragon Flag Champions
There were twenty teams in total, so winning one match immediately pushed us into the top ten.
[Saeum High’s Miracle—Will It Continue at the Blue Dragon Flag?]
[Overwhelming Victory Against Last Year’s Champions… Choi Seong Shines]
[Saeum High Defeats Cheonan Nam High, With Choi Seong at the Center]
[Park Soran Bursts Into Tears After the Game… “It Was a Complete Defeat”]
[Saeum High Could Set Another Major Record With Blue Dragon Flag Victory]
We continued smashing record after record.
Things like this.
Last year’s last-place team suddenly winning games.
Or pulling off an upset against the defending champions.
This year, we were at the center of all the attention.
After steadily defeating every team we met in the tournament, we finally reached the finals.
Our opponent in the championship game was Gyeongbuk Commercial High, this year’s Golden Lion Flag champion.
They were known for their extremely rough style of play.
Their starting pitcher was also a sidearmer.
And since we hadn’t properly prepared to face one, he was practically poison to our lineup.
The ringing in my ears had gradually been fading.
But whenever I failed to get a hit or gave up one on the mound, it became loud again.
Almost as if it were warning me—
If I failed to become the first overall pick, I could die at any moment.
Still, I ignored it.
“We can do this.”
Things that had seemed impossible in my previous life were happening one after another.
For example…
Reporters who loved sniffing out stories calling me aside for a separate interview before the championship game.
“You’ve now surpassed Park Soran, and your chances of becoming the first overall pick have risen significantly. How do you feel?”
“I don’t.”
Laughter burst from the gathered reporters.
This was pretty much how all my interviews went.
Of course, there were always people who disliked that kind of attitude.
“You’re still only a prospect. Do you really think it’s appropriate to be this arrogant? I’m sorry to say this, but if you keep answering like that, you might not get very favorable articles written about you.”
Was it somehow a problem to say I had nothing to say when I genuinely had nothing to say?
Or was I supposed to lie?
I answered simply.
“How you write your articles isn’t something I have any control over. Anyway, I don’t have anything to say.”
At that, several reporters simply got up and left.
Bad articles?
Go ahead and write them.
Interestingly enough, the ringing in my ears that warned me about death never appeared at times like this.
There was only one thing that mattered today.
Could we defeat the rough-and-tough Gyeongbuk Commercial High?
They were reasonably strong in both pitching and batting.
And for the record, I wasn’t starting on the mound today.
It was Park Seoha’s turn.
Cheonan Nam High had won last year’s Blue Dragon Flag, but all of their core players from that championship roster had already graduated.
That was why beating them had been relatively easy.
This time, however, we were facing Gyeongbuk Commercial High, who were in peak condition after winning the Golden Lion Flag.
They were also one of those teams with several promising prospects.
Today, I was playing first base instead of Park Byeonggyu.
Their ace was that distinctive sidearm pitcher.
Some teams were probably considering him for their second or third pick.
That wasn’t something I cared about.
The real problem was that their lineup had a fairly famous name, just like Park Soran.
Kim Deokbae.
A monster hitter who would bat .300 and smash forty home runs immediately after entering the pros.
Even I had gotten hit hard by him several times before.
He played aggressively.
And his personality wasn’t particularly pleasant either.
Park Seoha stood on the mound with a tense expression.
His nerves already looked pretty bad.
Still, I didn’t bother saying anything that might make him even more conscious of it.
This was a wall every player eventually had to overcome on their own.
Of course…
Having to overcome it in a championship game was a little terrifying.
Crack.
Top of the first inning.
Park Seoha gave up a hit to the very first batter.
I calmly watched from first base.
The ball barely slipped between the shortstop and third baseman.
Park Seoha’s face turned completely pale on the mound.
“Seoha! It’s okay!”
“Trust your stuff and throw!”
The Saeum High fielders shouted encouragement from behind him.
But I knew.
Park Seoha was about to collapse.
He would probably give up quite a few runs in the top of the first.
My prediction wasn’t far off.
He was a finesse pitcher, and now his mentality had started shaking.
Maybe the pressure of a championship game was still too much for Park Seoha.
He surrendered consecutive singles to the second and third batters.
No outs.
Bases loaded.
And stepping up to the plate was the famous Kim Deokbae.
Watching him casually chew gum made me think of a relaxed donkey.
Maybe I should give Seoha a little tip so he didn’t surrender a grand slam here.
I deliberately shouted loudly toward the mound.
“Seoha! Kim Deokbae has short reach, so just pitch him outside!”
The guy had always done plenty of dirty things on the baseball field.
The dirty player glanced at me.
Then suddenly spat his gum onto the ground in front of himself.
The umpire immediately stepped in.
Only after the gum was removed from the field could the game continue.
“Outside?”
Yoon Jaejun looked uncertain for a moment before nodding.
It was the same sign system he used whenever I stood on the mound.
He was probably going outside.
Kim Deokbae was a textbook right-handed hitter.
If we pitched him outside, there was a high chance he would hit to the opposite field.
That was exactly what I was counting on.
So instead of guarding first base normally, I deliberately moved several steps deeper toward the outfield.
129 km/h
The slow fastball fortunately landed low and outside, exactly where Yoon Jaejun wanted it.
But Kim Deokbae seemed to have anticipated it.
He attacked the very first pitch.
He pushed the ball to the opposite field.
He had probably instinctively realized that a single mattered more than a home run right now.
After his compact level swing, I quickly tracked the ball flying through the air.
If I had been standing in the normal position next to first base, the ball would have easily sailed over my head for a hit.
But because I had already moved deeper toward the outfield…
It looked like I could just barely reach it.
I jumped with everything I had.
Jumping was one of the things I did best.
My body sprang upward like a coil.
And I snatched the ball out of the air.
The runners on first, second, and third had already started moving because they thought it was a guaranteed hit.
When I leaped up and turned that hit into an out, the runner on first froze before desperately trying to return to the bag.
There was no way I was going to miss this opportunity.
I immediately slid toward first base.
Faster than the runner desperately trying to get back.
The umpire stared blankly for a moment before shouting.
“Out!”
Two outs in an instant.
A little color finally returned to Park Seoha’s face.
Thunderous applause filled the stadium.
“Choi Seong! You’re the best!! Seriously…!”
Park Seoha shouted in a timid voice.
I replied calmly.
“See? Even the finals aren’t that big of a deal.”
Despite flying out, Kim Deokbae deliberately walked all the way toward first base and glared at me before bumping my shoulder.
It was such a weak provocation that I simply laughed it off.
An emotional player who played dirty.
He had talent.
But because of that personality, he never earned much respect from younger players.
