WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Chen
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Occult World’s Coveted Blacksmith ◈
Chapter 95: Home Run
──────
[Emergency Broadcast] Cheongun Stadium | Viewers: 24,806.
A new face appeared on the scoreboard.
[Eighth Batter | Lee Do-hyeon]
- Another one got added.
- Does this seriously only end when every sorcerer inside dies?
- This is fucking absurd.
[Lee Do-hyeon?? What grade is that guy??]
└ It doesn't say?
└ ?? What is this?
└ Is he unregistered??
└ Looks like he awakened not long ago.
└ Then isn't he about to get insta-killed?
└ T_T
* * *
‘Damn...’
I looked up at the scoreboard.
One face filled the screen.
An utterly ordinary face, the kind you'd see at a convenience store.
In other words, Lee Do-hyeon's original face, completely unchanged.
‘...That was close.’
When I undid the Suppression Talisman earlier, I made sure to block only the Spiritual Power going to my face.
If my Spiritual Power had returned and even my face had changed back into Master Do's, someone in here might have seen it.
What if I'd just undone it without thinking?
I'd be sitting here with Do Emperor's face right now, while my original face was plastered across the scoreboard.
It would have become Do Emperor's surprise identity reveal show!
And with my name on it, too!
...Or would it?
Maybe Do Emperor's face would have appeared on the scoreboard, too?
Then only my name would have been revealed.
Either way, it still wasn't time to relax.
‘After Mu-yeong's turn ends.’
The eighth batter was next.
My turn.
“...”
Honestly, I wasn't confident I could keep holding back only the Spiritual Power going to my face while I fought at the plate.
Then I really would change back into Master Do's face.
Right under the words [Eighth Batter | Lee Do-hyeon].
‘...This is going to be a pain.’
* * *
The game continued.
The ball swelled, split into three, then fell as a boulder.
Kwoooong!
[Third Batter, Retired!]
[Newly Acquired Player! Congratulations~!]
Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum!
Drumbeats, fanfare, and a pillar of light.
Whenever the dust settled, a name on the scoreboard was casually swapped out.
[Holy shit, he went down on the first pitch.]
└ A Grade-2 went down like that??
└ There's no hope.
└ Isn't Jin Mu-yeong our only hope now?
└ Seriously, there's nothing else we can do.
└ Who was the person that just came in?
└ Grade-4.
└ Aren't there any Grade-1s in there?
└ How many Grade-1s do you think there are in the whole country?
The routine had repeated enough to become tiresome.
The fourth batter.
The moment the pitcher began its windup.
Sliiide.
Another arm sprouted from the gray shoulder on the mound.
Two. Four. Eight.
Translucent arms spread out like a fan, each holding a white ball.
- Fuck, it's back.
- Is that Thousand-Armed Avalokiteshvara?
- Mu-yeong hyung struck out against that earlier, too.
Dozens of arms threw at once.
Shushushushush!
Still holding my brush, I sent Spiritual Power around my eyes.
Ssssh.
Dozens of trajectories covered the batter's box.
To eyes wrapped in Spiritual Power, every one of them looked like a strand branching off from a single thread.
Thwack.
[Strikeout!]
Only one ball remained, lodged in the catcher's mitt.
The rest melted away.
Just like when I snatched the ball that flew toward Eun-chae earlier.
Only one ball was real. The rest were afterimages of Spiritual Power.
If that was the case...
‘Right. That's it.’
In the meantime, one more person vanished into the dirt, while another returned alive after striking out.
Then.
[Seventh Batter! Jin Mu-yeong!]
Bzzzt.
* * *
[Emergency Broadcast] Cheongun Stadium | Viewers: 26,915.
- He's here, he's here.
- Yellow hair is back.
- You're our only hope.
- Mu-yeong hyung, please.
- Please, please, please.
* * *
The air smelled of dirt.
When his buzzing vision cleared, Mu-yeong was already standing at the plate.
Dry dirt beneath his feet.
The leather grip fitting into his palm.
The bat resting on his shoulder felt a little heavier than before.
‘I’ll end this now.’
No matter what, he would save everyone and get them out of here.
Tap tap.
He leveled the dirt with his dress shoes.
Ptui, ptui.
He spat into his palms and rubbed them together.
On the mound.
The faceless pitcher received a new ball.
Instead of winding up.
Crack.
‘That again.’
The white leather split apart, red stitching unraveled, and bodies began swelling within the black smoke.
Dozens of zombies poured down from the mound.
[Keeeeeeeh!]
Their grotesque cries rang out.
Mu-yeong shifted his grip to one hand.
‘This time, I won't miss.’
Thud thud thud!
“Come on!”
Thwack!
The first one's head burst, sending scraps of leather and red thread everywhere.
The force rebounding through his wrist snapped the bat back into place.
Riding that returning force, he struck the next one.
Bang! Crack! Wham!
Then the next. And the next.
The more he hit, the faster he became.
The smell of scorched leather and mold stung his nose.
They flew in every direction, into the outfield, the backstop net, and the seats along third base.
“Hup!”
Thwack.
Only after smashing the last one did Mu-yeong let out a breath.
“Haa... Haa...”
He hadn't missed a single one.
But then.
The gray umpire raised one hand, then drew a rectangle over its head with both hands.
[Ah, hold on a moment~ We're going to video review!]
The scoreboard showed slow-motion footage.
A red circle appeared over one zombie going beyond the railing in the third-base seats.
Beep!
[After review! Foul ball~!]
- ?????
- Over one zombie?
- One foul out of forty makes it a foul?
- It really makes up the rules however it wants.
One yellow light came on.
‘...Fine. That's how you want to play it.’
Second pitch.
Crack.
This time, there were more. They were faster.
He gripped the bat with both hands.
Vwoooom.
The handle trembled.
“Hyaah!”
With a full swing, five or six zombies in the front row flew away whole.
He kicked them, shoved them aside, smashed down on them.
Struck them.
Whoosh.
One twisted its body and darted in low.
There was no time to bring the bat back.
Mu-yeong rammed it with his shoulder.
Thud!
Teeth sank into him.
“Fuck! Get off!”
He kicked it away and smashed it with the bat.
“Ghk...!”
Something hot ran down inside his shirt.
He hadn't missed anything.
The gray umpire raised its hand.
This time, even its rectangle gesture was lazy, and the slow-motion replay cut off in less than a second.
[Foul ball~]
Two yellow lights.
- Fuck, it's not even trying anymore.
- It's only pretending to review it LOL.
- He got bitten in the shoulder?? He's bleeding??
After that, the umpire didn't even raise a hand.
[Foul ball~]
Fouls after two strikes did not add to the count.
‘...Is it going to keep throwing until I collapse?’
Fine. Let's see who wins.
“My endurance is one thing I'm confident in.”
* * *
Crack.
[Keeeeeh!]
“Raaah!”
Thwack! Crack! Bang!
[Foul ball~]
Crack.
“Come on, then!!”
Wham! Thwack! Crack!
[Foul ball~]
He'd stopped counting pitches long ago.
His bright yellow hair was drenched in blood and sweat, clumping against his head.
The bat was still intact.
It returned with the force of each hit, and he rode that returning force to swing faster.
But his body was the problem.
His arms couldn't keep up with the endless zombie hordes or the returning bat.
Every swing made his shoulders scream.
His hands tingled.
He was definitely holding the bat, yet he couldn't feel anything.
‘...Have I used too much Spiritual Power?’
Vwooom...
The trembling of the handle faded.
‘Break!’
The character for Break on the handle glowed a vivid red.
“Get out of here!!”
Kwoooong!
Where his sweeping swing passed, around fifteen zombies scattered into leather.
[Foul ball~]
Crack.
This time, they didn't come only from the mound.
From first base. From third base.
Zombie hordes closed in around him.
‘Harden!’
The character for Strength burned red.
The now-heavy bat pierced the one in front, then skewered the one behind it.
Slash!
Something scraped across his brow.
His left eye instantly blurred red.
Mu-yeong wiped at his eye with his torn sleeve.
No matter how much he wiped, blood kept running down.
‘...The mitt.’
He only needed to watch the mitt.
Thwack! Crack!
“Fuuuck...!”
Fine. I'll hold out until the end.
- Look at his clothes. They're in tatters.
- He already looks like he's at his limit.
- His mental strength is insane.
- This is crazy...
- His face is covered in blood.
- Ah, I really can't watch this.
- Jin Mu-yeong, please hang in there.
[Foul ball~]
Crack.
Riiing.
Tinnitus rang in his ears.
The zombies' shrieks and the speakers' cheerful voice faded, as though he were hearing them underwater.
All he could hear was his own breathing.
Huff. Huff.
Whoosh.
One zombie twisted its body strangely and slipped under the bat.
It didn't stop.
Toward the mitt.
“No!”
Mu-yeong threw himself forward.
Not with the bat, but with his whole body.
Thud!
He rolled across home plate with it.
The smell of leather. The taste of dirt.
Something metallic pooled in his mouth, as if his lip had split.
He smashed the back of its head.
Once, twice.
“Die! Just die!!”
A third time.
Only after it scattered into scraps of leather and balls of thread did Mu-yeong drop to one knee in the dirt, gasping.
“Huff, hah...”
[Foul ball~]
Kah. Ptui.
He spat out blood.
The dirt was already a mess of bloodstains.
Blood running down his forearm had soaked the leather grip, making it slick in his hand.
Mu-yeong rubbed his palm against his pants and gripped it again.
His tie was gone somewhere, and one shoulder of his jacket had been completely torn away.
‘...It's hyung's turn next.’
Using the bat as a cane, Mu-yeong stood again.
“...Throw some more, you bastard.”
- Look at his clothes. They're in tatters.
- He already seems finished.
- His willpower is insane.
- Fuck...
- His face is a bloody mess.
- I really can't watch this.
- Jin Mu-yeong, please hold on.
Then.
Bzzzt. Squeeeal.
The speakers came on.
[Now then~ Everyone, you're getting bored, right?]
[Then let's wrap this up around here~]
Ba-bam! Ba-ba-bam!
On the mound.
The pitcher slowly raised its arms.
Sliiide.
Its arms stretched out.
One became two. Two became four. Four became eight. Sixteen.
Dozens, then hundreds.
Translucent arms spread behind it like a fan. Each hand held a snow-white ball.
- Fuck, it's back.
- That fucking Thousand-Armed Avalokiteshvara is back.
- What is this? Why are its arms stretching so much?
- There are way more now.
- Is it just telling him to die?
- We're fucked.
- It's over...
Mu-yeong smiled.
His split lips stung.
‘There it is.’
...Finally.
“Fuck... I thought I was really going to die.”
He adjusted his grip with both hands.
He took a long breath and gathered his remaining Spiritual Power.
Vwoooom. Veeeeeng.
It wasn't as strong as before, but the vibration still traveled up his wrists.
And his target was there.
Beyond his red-blurred vision.
The scoreboard towering at the far end of the outfield, beneath the yellow sky.
Countless arms swung at once.
Shushushushush!
Balls covered the batter's box.
Those strange balls that all looked real and all looked fake.
But only one was real.
Fwoosh.
A different heat rose beneath his palm.
A new character on the body of the bat glowed blue.
- ??? What's that? The bat's glowing.
- It's a different color from before.
The character for Gather.
The Convergence Talisman hyung had drawn for him.
Mu-yeong drew the bat all the way back.
‘Gather all at this one point!’
Sluuurp.
The balls filling his vision were drawn toward a single point over home plate, as though caught by something invisible.
One snow-white ball.
Take this.
“Hyaah!!”
Kaaang!!!
- Holy shit, he hit it.
- He hit it, he hit it, he hit it!
Whoooooosh!
The ball ripped through the yellow sky at tremendous speed.
- No way, no way.
- Please, please.
- Go, go, go, go!
Kwoooong!
The center of the scoreboard caved in, and cracks spread across it.
- Holy shit.
- He did it!!!
- It's a home run!!!!!
- This is insane.
- ??? The scoreboard broke.
But then.
No glass shards or wires spilled from the crack.
Bzzzt.
Beyond the gap, which flickered with static, was empty white.
Like a sheet of paper with nothing drawn on it.
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