With the defensive testing finished, the hitters who would take the box and the pitchers who would take the mound loosened up.

The club staff watched the prospects taking light practice swings.

Mark’s powerful swing drew astonishment first.

That one probably doesn’t need to be tested at all.

The force coming out of those perfect mechanics was better than any other prospect’s.

That was a manner of speaking, of course.

If he failed to show well in live play, Mark was scheduled to be cut the same as anyone.

Then the staff turned their interest to Suho.

He had looked outstanding on defense today, and there was expectation attached to him because of it.

Suho was only holding a bat and swinging it lightly.

The form was clean, and no particular force came off the swing.

Except this was the Dodgers.

The staff had sharp eyes.

Among them, Kevin the farm director came over to Frank and asked.

“Frank. It’s only practice, but Suho Oh’s mechanics don’t feel bad at all. Is this really the 20-grade hitter from the report we read?”

Frank kept his expression level on the surface.

The minor league coach beside him joined in.

“He’s right. The report gave him the worst possible mark for hitting, and going by the practice swing alone it isn’t anywhere near that. If anything it looks excellent. Is it possible you misread him, Mr. Lambert?”

The corner of Frank Lambert’s mouth lifted slightly.

“Certainly. He’s different from when I saw him.”

Kevin tilted his head.

“Meaning what? Don’t tell me something changed inside two weeks.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what he did either. But I can be certain of this much.”

That Suho had put in work over those two weeks that nobody could imagine.

Which was reasonable, because two weeks ago Frank had seen the traces of desperate labor carved into his palm.

Kevin’s voice picked up.

“He’s twenty-four this year. Tail end of it. If he shows well at this test he’s talent worth developing, and if not it’s all moot. If he came here having shored up his weakness inside two weeks… the will is certainly there. And you gave him full marks for makeup in the report, so I’m looking forward to it.”

What mattered in the end was ability and the results that came from it.

Whether Suho could show well in this final test rested entirely on him.

Kevin called the players together.

“I’ll give you the lineup.”

He picked Suho out first.

“Suho. Leading off. Center field.”

Leadoff.

Suho clenched a fist.

The leadoff hitter is the team’s spearhead, and the assignment meant they had expectations of him.

He was certain he’d been given the spot because of how he’d looked on defense.

Which was true.

In the staff’s eyes Suho was a player with fast legs and a good glove.

They simply wanted him in the box as early as possible so they could watch him.

“And batting second… Mark. First base.”

“Yes! I’ll give it everything!”

“Right. Anyone I’ve called, get ready to play.”

Mark ducked his head and left with Suho.

He spoke, thoroughly inflated.

“Second, is it. Means they’ve got high expectations of me.”

Suho nodded.

Because in America the best hitter generally goes second.

It meant the staff thought a great deal of Mark.

“You must have graded high on the scouting report too.”

“Probably. You don’t seem particularly jealous, though?”

“No, not really. As you know, the staff won’t have much expectation of my bat right now.”

Mark clicked his tongue and nodded.

“Fair point. And your hitting was completely awful at the independent league tryout too, wasn’t it?”

“You don’t have to beat me with facts. I know.”

“Ah, who cares. You’ve got John’s swing down perfectly. Let’s smash the thing properly! Though… it won’t be easy.”

Which was inevitable.

Because just as players who had looked good today, like Suho and Mark, or who had graded well on their reports, were being sent to the plate early.

The pitcher they’d have to face would be an outstanding player by the same logic.

And right on cue, the pitcher taking the mound for the opposing side was announced.

“Next pitcher, Brandon Smith!”

The moment the name was called, Mark’s face creased.

Tension was obvious on it.

He grabbed Suho’s shoulder and whispered.

“Brandon Smith. That guy’s famous. One of the top ace prospects in the whole Dodgers farm system.”

He swallowed and kept explaining.

“He was known nationally from high school and should have gone high in the draft, but an elbow injury right before graduation made him a bigger risk and pushed him down the board. Major league clubs are reluctant to spend a high round on a player with injury history, however good the talent.”

The Dodgers had taken him anyway, trusting their rehab system and their development.

A high-risk, high-return investment of a kind.

Mark caught his breath and went on.

“He’s already pitching at Rookie level in the Dodgers system. Him being at this test is probably the club making a final evaluation on whether to promote him.”

There was awe in Mark’s voice, and something close to fear.

“Ninety-five is his baseline average, and apparently his slider and changeup are quality too. He’ll be the toughest pitcher here.”

Suho’s eyes went wide.

Not because of the velocity.

“Mark. How do you know all of this?”

“Baseball’s an information war. And the famous ones you just end up knowing, naturally.”

“So he’s that famous.”

“Yeah. So don’t relax, and let’s do this properly. Then again, turn it around… what happens if we knock that guy down?”

“We get closer to passing.”

“That’s it. So it’s actually good. The stronger he is, the more we gain by breaking him.”

Just as Mark said, this was better. And right as Suho was settling himself.

Brandon Smith took the mound and threw a few easy warm-up pitches.

The heavy quality of his stuff and the sharpness of his breaking ball drew admiration even from the staff.

Suho and Mark felt the same.

The resolution of a moment ago — break the strong one and pass — went thin on them.

“D— damn it. That’s insane.”

Suho gave a short nod at Mark’s cry.

He really isn’t at a level that belongs here.

But Suho wasn’t rattled.

Still short of the top-level guys in the KBO, though.

The man’s ball was fast, certainly, and his breaking stuff was good.

There was a raw quality to it, perhaps because of his youth.

And when Suho was in the farm system he had faced KBO first-team players.

Some of them were the finest active players in the country.

They generally came down to the farm to build their bodies back up after an injury.

Compared to those pitches, honestly, this looks manageable.

And in fact the average KBO first-team player was rated at Double-A.

Only the exceptional ones set foot on a major league field.

Back then Suho hadn’t been able to hit those men either.

This time will be different.

Suho, the test’s leadoff hitter, picked up his bat and stepped into the box.

The pitcher on the mound looked him over.

That guy showed pretty well in the defensive testing today. Fast legs, and the defense is outstanding.

Brandon rated Suho’s glove highly.

Honestly, there wasn’t a player with defense that good in the Rookie league he was pitching in now.

Nor would there be one better than Suho a level up at Low-A.

In fact, even at Double-A, nobody would keep up with that glove.

That was how good Suho was on defense.

Instead of being nervous, though, the corner of Brandon’s mouth curled.

But good defenders usually can’t hit. Especially the small ones. No power either.

In fact, in the modern majors defense matters, and offense matters far more.

Scoring runs comes first, so a player is rarely employed for a glove alone.

Positions that demand the highest defensive ability, like shortstop, are the exception.

So there was no reason to think this man could hit.

Brandon had heard Suho’s profile in rough outline.

Twenty-four. Testing here at that age means he’s a loser who failed somewhere and came back.

And he was from Korea. Asia.

Hitters out of Asia were generally weak.

So the certainty that Suho’s bat was weak settled in his mind as certainty.

I’ve got places to be. Let’s get this done fast.

Brandon put down the sign to the catcher himself.

Meanwhile, in his stance, Suho gathered his thoughts.

There’s only one pitch I’m hunting.

The fastball.

It was coming. That much was clear.

Suho breathed deep.

The pitcher’s eyes, his posture, even the sign he was putting down to the catcher.

All of it seemed to match Coach John’s prediction exactly.

His slight frame and the loser’s label on him had fed the pitcher’s arrogance.

Come on. Throw me the best thing you have.

On the mound Brandon’s arm came around hard.

The ball he released flew at the plate like a stroke of lightning.

The number on the staff’s radar guns read 98 miles an hour.

The best fastball the pitcher had.

As it came in, Suho clenched his back teeth.

Hey. Mark. You said ninety-five.

The fastball coming at him now felt far quicker than that.

What did it matter.

He already knew what pitch was coming, and it was coming.

And John’s swing, the one he’d fitted on, had become entirely his own only recently.

With this swing.

However fine the talent, an unpolished prospect’s pitch could be hit at any time.

The bat came through, and the box seemed to have a typhoon breaking over it.

Craaack.

A heavy, ringing note shook the whole complex.

Struck flush on the barrel, the ball took off like a bullet.

The pitcher’s head snapped around hard to follow it.

An overwhelming batted ball, of a kind nobody could have imagined coming out of a frame that small.

It split right-center, caught the very top of the fence, kicked up, and got sucked deep into the outfield in an instant.

Suho ran flat out.

Around first, to second.

His feet were fast enough to look like they were riding the wind.

While the ball was still rolling in the outfield, Suho passed second.

And pulled into third standing up.

A triple.

Every eye on the grounds went to Suho on third base.

His expression standing there was flat.

As though all of this were entirely a matter of course.

There was no surprise in his eyes, no swelling emotion.

Inevitably so.

Because Suho still had things left to show them.

End of Chapter 14