Baseball: A Two-Way Player-Chapter 561 - 129: The World Focuses on You (Part 2)

Koutaro Seiomi didn't speak, but he gazed with greedy eyes at the locker in front of him, and reached out to touch the empty nameplate's spot—

He couldn't wait to start his high school career!!!

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Tokyo, near an office building in a set-menu restaurant.

It's lunchtime, and the small restaurant is now bustling with noise. Office workers are using this short lunch break to recharge, and today, almost everyone's topic revolves around last night's match.

"Boss, your son was extraordinary in last night's game!" Yamamoto said, eyeing the department chief, Lin, while scooping a mouthful of rice, his eyes sparkling. "21 strikeouts! My goodness, I thought they made a mistake with the data when I first saw the news!"

A young female employee at a nearby table couldn't help but join the discussion: "My dad is a Hanshin fan, he ended up turning off the TV halfway through last night's game and was too upset to sleep well."

She said this with a laugh.

This female employee usually doesn't follow baseball that much, so she asked Yamamoto beside her, "But Yamamoto, you just mentioned 'your son'... could it be that the player named Lin Guanglai is the department chief's...?"

Yamamoto glanced at the department chief across from him and seeing no particular reaction, replied, "Yes, Lin Guanglai from SoftBank is now Japan's hottest professional baseball superstar, and he's our department chief Lin's son!"

Growing more enthusiastic, Yamamoto waved his chopsticks and praised, "Such performance is simply monstrous! Striking out 21 batters on the defense side, and almost single-handedly hitting 3 home runs with 4 RBIs on the offense side, nearly defeating an entire team by himself!"

Thinking about the talent raised by the person sitting right in front of him, Yamamoto couldn't help but reflect on his son back home: "My son is also playing baseball, but unfortunately didn't get into any good school... Recently, the school's supervisor had him switch from an infielder to a pitcher, I wonder how he's doing lately..."

At this time, the father of Lin Guang finally spoke slowly: "Yamamoto, you said your son is also playing baseball, could you tell me more about it?"

"Ah, sure, Chief Lin." Facing an inquiry from his superior, Yamamoto was flattered and explained everything he knew: "My son is exactly 3 years younger than yours, earlier this year through a senior introduction he went to Miyazaki Prefecture's Miyazaki High School to play..."

"From what my wife told me in our recent communications, it seems the school supervisor thinks he is gifted, so he started training him as a pitcher—alas, the boy's just over 170 cm going into high school, in this era of increasingly tall pitchers, I wonder if he can make any name for himself? I really don't know what the team's supervisor is thinking..."

After understanding the situation somewhat, Lin Guang's father took a sip of miso soup and offered this promising subordinate a proposition hard to refuse:

"Yamamoto, during the Senbatsu, perhaps you would consider bringing your family to Tokyo for a visit? Guanglai will be back on vacation then, I'm sure he would be willing to give your son some guidance."

Yamamoto's eyes lit up and he quickly stood up, thanking his superior in excitement: "That would be wonderful, thank you so much, Chief Lin—I want to tell my son right away, face-to-face advice from a baseball superstar..."

Lin Guang's father smiled and then casually asked, "By the way, Yamamoto, I rarely hear you talk about your family at work, what's your son's name?"

"Yamamoto Yuusen—when we named him, it was with the hope that he would grow up positively and well..."

At another table, a few young people who seemed freshly graduated were also having an intense discussion about last night's game.

"I think he's quickly heading to the Major Leagues!"

"Definitely! Which MLB team wouldn't want a player like this?"

"But isn't he quite far from being 25 yet? SoftBank isn't short on money, will they really let him go?"

"If the player insists on going, wouldn't the team respect his wishes somewhat?"

"Oh, I'd hate to see him leave, I want more years of watching him play in Japan."

"Don't worry, wherever he goes he'll be the center of attention—we witnessed his god-like match, and once those Americans recognize his strength, we'll have something to brag about!"

The restaurant owner wiped glasses while happily listening to customers' conversations. Though not a hardcore baseball fan, he knew that something significant happened last night.

He casually switched the wall-mounted TV to the sports news channel, which was playing a replay of last night's third home run moment.

Instantly, the whole restaurant echoed with "Oh—" of amazement followed by assorted "Sugoei" and "Subarashii" exclamations.

People momentarily forgot about their work fatigue, immersing themselves together in the excitement baseball brought them.

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"Brandon, I need to remind you, the time difference between Tokyo and New York is about 13 hours, and unless something truly spectacular has happened, I hope you permit me to get some peaceful sleep—you know, this season..."

Brian Cashman's voice was somewhat displeased regarding a call from his own scout.

As the General Manager of the New York Yankees, Cashman, after 28 years in the Bronx, faced the biggest crisis of his managerial career:

Representing American culture and acknowledged as the top baseball club worldwide, even after heavy investments during the offseason, the New York Yankees had failed for a second year to enter the playoffs, leaving Cashman under pressure from media, fans, and the Steinbrenner family owning the team.

"Brian, did the team review the player report and video I sent last time?" Yankees' current scout in Japan, Brandon Daquworth, asked, seemingly unaffected by his superior's angry tone. Diligently inquiring—if listened closely, a hint of eagerness underlined his words.

Cashman thought for a moment, a vague impression surfaced in his mind, "Is it that dual swordsmanship high school student you mentioned? Brandon, not to be harsh, but you should know Japan and the US are entirely different—dual swordsmanship is simply unfeasible in the Major League, even the great Ruth couldn't accomplish it; similarly, we Yankees don't need a 'high schooler' to save us..."

His sharp words were interrupted again by Daquworth: "What if that person can deliver 21 strikeouts while hitting 3 home runs in the stage of Japanese competition? Would this player be worthy of playing for the Yankees?"

The sound on the phone disappeared, and after a good while resumed.

"Brandon, today isn't April 1st, and this joke isn't funny—even though Japanese baseball might lag behind the Major League considerably, data like this isn't something you should fabricate to fool me..."

"Check your email, Brian—that contains everything you want to know." Calmly responding to his superior's 'sarcasm', Daquworth replied without further elaboration.

A moment later—

Brian Cashman's entire body reclined back on his bed; before him, his laptop played freshly produced footage from Japan's first match.

Watching the young figure onscreen, Cashman felt like he'd found a way out.