TTPBT 14

Chapter 14

Chase Reliever (4)

This is great.

Covering his mouth with his glove, Han Minwoo smiled to himself.

The new special ability he’d acquired was exactly what he wanted—
a skill perfectly suited for him as a middle reliever.

[<Full Power Paitching (C)> is activated.]
[For your first 20 pitches, fastball velocity increases by +2 km/h, command is slightly improved, and Four-Seam Fastball (D) is upgraded by one grade.]
[Remaining boosted pitches: 17]

The command boost was only “slight,” but even that was enough to let him work the borderline of the strike zone with confidence.

On top of that, thanks to <Stone-Hearted (A)>, his mental fortitude had shot up, and he was now able to attack the inside corner at will.

Even before the comebacker hit him, pitching inside was never an easy thing.

There’s always the risk the batter could be hit by the ball.
If things went wrong, that one pitch could cost someone their life.

From a pitcher’s perspective, the pressure of that possibility was close to sheer terror.
If someone could throw inside without feeling anything, you’d almost suspect them of being a psychopath.

So this is what it feels like when your command is actually there.

The sensation on his fingertips was different.
The ball came off his hand soft and clean.

At this rate, he didn’t feel like he’d be missing his spots often.

Sure, it only lasts for 20 pitches…

Suppressing his excitement, Minwoo looked up.

Near home plate, Lee Gangwon—just struck out looking—was exchanging a few words with the next batter.

“You went down on that pitch? Seriously.”

“I was just tracking pitches for you, hyung. Anyway, Kangmin-hyung, be careful. The ball’s slow, but it’s sharper than it looks.”

“Hey, just watch how I do it.”

Minwoo let out a slow breath as he looked at the number one hitter stepping into the box.

He’d drawn a tough opponent.

Yoon Kangmin.

A right-handed batter/right-handed thrower, drafted by the Stings in 2022 in the 7th round, 63rd overall.

Judging by his draft position, it looked like he hadn’t shown much in high school, but in reality, he was a monster.
He’d played so well back then, people had called him a genius.

Even so, he’d fallen to the later rounds for one reason only:

His physicals.

He’s really small.

Yoon Kangmin was 162 cm tall.
Shortest player in KBO history.

He was so short that his strike zone was noticeably lower than that of other hitters.

But unlike his frail-looking body, his talent was very real.

He’s a little monster.

He was a classic contact hitter with elite league-level bat-to-ball skills, great at going the other way and using a level, downward swing.

Because of his superb bat control, he could spray the ball to all fields: left, center, and right.
He had such a knack for simply putting the bat on the ball that from 2023 to 2025, he’d led the league in contact rate for three consecutive seasons.

His career batting average was .313—
Number one all-time among shortstops.

His plate discipline was great as well: he walked more than he struck out, and his strikeout rate was one of the lowest in the league.

That’s how he’d earned the nickname: “Little Monster.”

He’s a bad matchup for me.

For a slow-throwing pitcher like Minwoo, hitters with great plate discipline were always tricky.

The slower the pitch, the more that keen eye shines.

He won’t even flinch at anything that’s a hair off the zone.

Before, he’d have dreaded facing a hitter like this.
If he didn’t give him something good to hit, Little Monster would just keep fouling off pitches, slowly wearing him down.

But now things were different.

Minwoo felt sorry for Yoon Kangmin, but the pitcher on the mound was no longer the “old” Han Minwoo.

After exchanging signs with catcher Pi Kijeong, Minwoo delivered his first pitch.

The first pitch was a four-seam fastball.
It nicked the outer edge of the zone at the knees.
Kangmin watched it go by.

“Strike!”

Minwoo immediately went into his second pitch.

Another four-seamer, again low and away.
This time, it started a bit farther off the plate.
Kangmin once again didn’t move.

“Ball!”

Yeah, I figured tricks won’t work on him.

The count was 1–1.

For his third pitch, Minwoo once again chose the four-seam fastball.
This time, inside.
The ball came in as if it was going to plunk the batter.

Startled, Yoon Kangmin jumped back and glared at the mound.

This bastard…

Any deeper inside and it might have clipped his elbow.

He’d seen Minwoo relentlessly work the inside corner against leadoff hitter Lee Gangwon, but having one buzz his own body didn’t feel great.

Fine. Let’s see who wins this.

Gripping the bat tightly, Yoon Kangmin moved even closer to the plate.

The fourth pitch came in.
Kangmin clenched his teeth and stayed frozen.
Same inside lane as the third pitch.

“Ball!”

Now the count was 3–1.
Overwhelmingly in the hitter’s favor.

Kangmin scoffed at the pitcher on the mound.

Idiot.

There are always those pitchers who try to start a psychic war by pounding hitters inside.

Kangmin assumed Minwoo was one of those.

For a guy with mediocre velocity and so-so breaking balls to survive, attacking the body was practically mandatory.

He lifted the bat towards Minwoo, just a little.
To others, it might look like a normal pre-swing routine—
but Minwoo would know it was a blatant taunt.

Yet despite the provocation, Minwoo showed no reaction.

If anything, he smiled inwardly.

He can get hits off guys like Choi Myeonghun, so someone like me isn’t even on his radar, huh.

The more Yoon Kangmin underestimated him, the better.
It’d make it easier to fool him.

Minwoo threw the fifth pitch.

Same trajectory—running in toward the body.
But this time, it just grazed the inside edge of the zone.

For the first time, Yoon Kangmin’s bat whipped through the zone like a ghost.

Whish!

But he didn’t hit a thing.

Unlike all the four-seamers he’d thrown before, that pitch was a changeup.

The ball came in looking exactly like a four-seamer, then dipped just under the bat and into the catcher’s glove.

“Swing and a miss, strike!”

Full count. 3–2.
There was no backing down now—for either the pitcher or the hitter.

Ding!

[Player ‘Han Minwoo’ has fulfilled specific conditions.]
[With 2 strikes on the batter, <Doctor K (C)> is activated. Fastball velocity increases by +2 km/h, the current pitch’s grade is raised by one level, and command is slightly improved.]

I’ve been waiting for this.

Accepting the ball back from Pi Kijeong, Minwoo immediately got ready for his sixth pitch.

Another four-seam fastball.

The target location—

Dead center.

He could feel the seams biting into his fingertips.

The ball left his hand and streaked toward the center of the strike zone, right at the catcher’s mitt.

CRACK!

The ball met Kangmin’s bat and shot out towards the outfield.
He’d squared it up.

But Minwoo didn’t bother watching the flight of the ball.

He didn’t need to.
He knew that ball wasn’t leaving the park.

Sure enough, it died short and dropped cleanly into the right fielder’s glove.
The life on the pitch had turned it into a routine fly ball.

So this is what a B-grade four-seamer feels like.

Hitters like Yoon Kangmin were easy when you could win with pitch quality.
No matter how good their bat-to-ball skills were, if your stuff overpowered the barrel and turned contact into weak flies, they were harmless.

There was a time when Minwoo himself had overpowered hitters like that with pure pitch quality.

That’s why he knew better than anyone how to hunt a hitter like Yoon Kangmin.

It’s been a long time since I felt this.

• After a full-count battle, Yoon Kangmin goes down on a flyout to right!
• Han Minwoo continues to impress! Getting Yoon Kangmin to fly out is no easy feat. As I said before, this kid has a lot of upside.
• In what way do you see it?
• On the 5th pitch, even Yoon Kangmin—famous for his plate discipline—whiffed on a changeup. He didn’t just mis-hit it; he missed it completely. That means his delivery doesn’t give away his pitches.
• I see.
• He’s a three-quarter arm slot, almost sidearm, but what stands out is how late his arm comes through after his windup and stride. That makes it hard for hitters to time him, and they only really see the ball literally right before release. Naturally, it becomes harder for them to identify pitch types.
• So there’s a lot going on in that short motion.
• Baseball is a sport decided in split seconds.
• Very interesting. Then, from your perspective as an analyst, what would you say this player is still lacking?
• His velocity is low, and he doesn’t have what you’d call a “put-away pitch.” That’s going to keep haunting him. In game terms, you could say he has fewer “skills” than other players. Even facing Stings’ number two hitter, Jin Sangheon, is going to be a big challenge.

The number two hitter stepped into the box.

Jin Sangheon.

If you were picking the best pure contact hitter in the country, his name would always come up.
A completely different type from the Crocodiles’ Park Seojoon.

If Park Seojoon was the player who hit the ball best in the league,
then Jin Sangheon was the one who knew best how to torment pitchers.

Of all the hitters I ran image training against, he’s the one I hated facing the most.

Minwoo took off his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Yoon Kangmin was a monster, but Jin Sangheon was on another level.

His plate discipline was even better, and his contact rate even higher.
He’d never struck out more than 50 times in a season in his entire career.

On top of that, he could foul off almost anything.
That’s what made him terrifying.

He’d once forced Crocodiles pitcher Park Jinwoo to throw 26 pitches in a single plate appearance—
a KBO record for most consecutive pitches thrown to a single batter.

For pitchers without top-tier stuff, Jin Sangheon treated them like toys.

That’s how he’d earned the nickname: “Pitcher Breaker.”

He would once have been the immovable number one hitter in the lineup, but in line with the growing trend toward “strong number two hitters,” he now batted second for the Stings.

Looking at him, Minwoo’s fighting spirit flared.

I’ll throw everything I’ve got to beat this guy.

He wasn’t the same person who’d only faced him in simulations.
His velocity was still low, and he still didn’t have a true wipeout pitch, but he wasn’t weak enough to just get pummeled anymore.

Minwoo delivered the pitch.

From that moment, a brutal scene unfolded.

CRACK!

“Foul!”

CRACK!

“Foul!”

CRACK!

“Foul!”

CRACK!

With the count full, Jin Sangheon fouled off the tenth pitch.

The commentators watched with a mix of awe and pity.

• That bat control is pure art. That last pitch was a changeup. I’m pretty sure that was Minwoo’s trump card, but Jin just nicked it foul. Now Minwoo is running out of options.
• That was already the eighth pitch in this at-bat. He got the first two batters out in ten pitches total, and now he’s thrown almost the same number to just Jin Sangheon. Maybe even more by the time this is over.
• It’s unfolding exactly as I mentioned earlier. With low velocity and no put-away pitch, he’s stuck like this, being worked to death. I have a feeling today’s experience is going to leave a deep scar on Han Minwoo. Every time he faces Stings in the future, Jin Sangheon might linger in his mind like a psychological burden.

The Wolves’ bullpen started stirring, and fans in the stands began shaking their heads.

Everyone could sense Minwoo’s impending defeat.

Ding!

[Remaining boosted pitches: 0]
[You have used all 20 boosted pitches. <Full Power Pitching (C)> is now canceled.]
[Four-Seam Fastball (C), which had been upgraded by one level, returns to its original state.]

His 20 boosted pitches were gone, and Full Power Pitching deactivated.

But Minwoo’s eyes were still blazing.

This is the moment I was waiting for.

Letting out a long breath, he exchanged signs with Pi Kijeong.

He shook his head a few times, then went into his windup.

Seeing that, Jin Sangheon snorted and settled into his trademark batting stance.

Throw whatever you want.

The pitch came.

“…?”

The ball left Minwoo’s hand and arced toward the plate in a big, lazy parabola.

So slow it was almost absurd.

On top of that, now that Full Power Pitching was gone, it was 2 km/h slower than usual.

That ridiculously slow pitch froze even Jin Sangheon—the best contact hitter in the league.

I’ve been saving this one just for this moment.

“Iiiiiiit’s a strike! Strike three!”

• S-strikeout! Jin Sangheon goes down on strikes!
• Hahaha, I can’t help but laugh. The scoreboard shows 108 km/h. Who would’ve thought a pitch like that would show up there? He got completely and utterly fooled.

“YEEAAAAAHHHH!”

Minwoo roared as he headed for the dugout.

He’d successfully closed out the bottom of the seventh.

In a duel everyone thought he’d lose, Han Minwoo had come out on top.

I’m not weak.

The BnB system was helping him get stronger—

But even so, his slower pitch was still very much a weapon.

A very sharp, very deadly one.