Rural Ace

Chapter 1: The Rich Kid (1)

**[18-and-Under Baseball World Cup Final Starting Pitcher Seo Ye-seong: “I’ll Throw a Shutout and Win”]**

**[South Korea Wins Baseball World Cup! Seo Ye-seong Keeps His Promise with a 15K Shutout]**

**[‘MLB Legend’ Seo Tae-seong’s Son, Seo Ye-seong, Inherits His Father’s Genius Pitching!]**

**[KBO’s No. 1 Draft Pick Seo Ye-seong: “I’ll Turn Gangwon Minors into a Championship Team”]**

**[Despite MLB’s Hot Pursuit, Seo Ye-seong Chooses KBO, Taking a Different Path from His Father]**

**[Seo Ye-seong, Former Star of Popular Parenting Show ‘Little Superstar,’ Steps into Pro Baseball]**

**[Left-handed Fireballer Seo Ye-seong Aims for Historic Rookie Season: “20 Wins, Sub-1.00 ERA, the Best Pitcher”]**

I scrolled through the articles about myself and couldn’t help but cover my eyes with both hands.

“This is insane. Really.”

It really felt insane.

And by “insane,” I mean me—specifically, the me from about 20 years ago.

**[2029 Season Rookie of the Year Candidate? Seo Ye-seong: “I’m More Ambitious for MVP Than Rookie of the Year”]**

This was the article that came out just yesterday.

It’s a bit complicated to explain, but it seems like I’ve gone back in time—almost 20 years.

Looking back, I really sounded like a lunatic in those interviews.

Why didn’t anyone stop me?

—

I was the first-round draft pick for the Gangwon Minors.

In my rookie year, I managed to win 10 games, but after that, things went downhill.

For the next decade, I bounced between the majors, minors, and hospitals.

There were a few decent seasons, but nothing close to the level of confidence I had in those interviews.

I finally hit my prime in my 30s.

I didn’t have the same blazing fastball from my youth, but I developed a few unique weapons and even became a 20-game winner.

But a few years later, my body completely broke down.

The constant changes to my pitching mechanics and overtraining had taken their toll.

Rehab failed.

Surgeries failed.

I kept trying, but nothing worked.

Eventually, I had to retire.

For a few years after that, I lived like a wreck.

The only thought in my mind was, “I want to play baseball again.”

I thought I didn’t love baseball, but I was wrong.

One day, I found an old, rotting glove in the storage room.

Even though my left shoulder and elbow were ruined, I thought, why not try pitching with my right hand? I was originally right-handed, after all.

And now, here I am.

Back to the time when I had just won the 18-and-Under Baseball World Cup and was named the No. 1 overall pick in the KBO draft.

“The coach wants to see you.”

A high school teammate whose name I couldn’t remember passed by and said that.

I still hadn’t fully processed the fact that I had traveled back in time, but there was no reason to dislike it.

I left the awkward baseball clubroom.

I wasn’t exactly a likable kid back then, and it seemed like most people didn’t care much for me.

*Knock knock.*

“It’s Seo Ye-seong.”

As soon as I knocked, the door swung open.

“Oh, Ye-seong! Wow, your pitching in the finals was killer. And of course, being the No. 1 draft pick. You’ve brought so much pride to our school. I’m so proud of you.”

The coach hugged me with a bright smile.

Back in the day, I had a comfortable time playing baseball at this school.

For a high school ace, I was probably one of the most well-managed pitchers.

But it wasn’t because our school had an advanced system or because the coach was particularly forward-thinking.

I was just given special treatment.

Partly because of my talent, but mostly because of my father’s influence.

“Thanks to you, I finished strong. Thank you, Coach.”

The coach’s smile widened at my polite response.

But then he hesitated and started speaking cautiously.

“By the way, Ye-seong…”

“Yes?”

“About your father…”

My father is an eight-time MVP, a legend who led the Korean national team to victory in every final he pitched in.

“Since you’re the No. 1 draft pick, I was wondering if he could come and give some advice to the team. Even if it’s just for a photo, it would be a great memory for the kids…”

After retiring, my father had completely distanced himself from baseball.

But that didn’t stop people from trying to get close to him.

He was considered one of the greatest pitchers in MLB history, and after retiring, he became a successful businessman.

I wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but I agreed anyway.

“I’ll ask him.”

“Oh, really? Great! You must be tired. Go home and rest. I’ll tell the coach you’re still adjusting to the time difference.”

—

I went straight home and spent the whole day lying down, lost in thought.

One of the things I kept thinking about was my father.

Before I traveled back in time, my father and I were practically estranged.

At this point in time, we weren’t that bad, but things were definitely awkward.

My father was in the U.S. now.

I couldn’t even remember the last time we talked.

It wasn’t that he didn’t call—I just stopped answering at some point.

I turned on my phone and searched for my father’s number.

“‘Mr. Seo’?”

Back then, I was going through my rebellious phase and even changed his contact name to something formal.

I sighed deeply and changed it back to “Dad.”

As I got older, I regretted how things had turned out between us.

We started arguing over trivial things, and my stupid pride made everything worse.

It wasn’t just pride—it was more like insecurity.

I was just a failure.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should call.

But I wasn’t a kid anymore.

I pressed the call button.

Even if it wasn’t for the coach’s request, I had been given a chance to fix things.

Wait, what time is it where he is now?

But before I could check the time difference, the call connected.

“Oh? Ye-seong?”

I had thought about what to say, but now I couldn’t remember.

So I just said it.

“Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“Want to have dinner?”

“What?”

Okay, maybe it was a bit sudden.

After all, he was in the U.S. But after a moment, he replied.

“Sure. I’ll be there soon. Let’s talk when I get there.”

—

“Moln, I’m heading to Korea for a bit. Just letting you know.”

“Why don’t you just stay there forever?”

Seo Tae-seong, who wasn’t on the best terms with his business partner Moln, flipped him off and quickly packed his bags before leaving the office.

It had been months since he last spoke to his son.

He had tried calling after the draft and the World Cup, but his son never answered.

Half excited and half nervous, he accepted his son’s dinner invitation, but something felt off.

“‘Dad’?”

His son rarely called him “Dad,” let alone “Father.”

And his speech was always so casual that it was hard to tell if he was being polite or not.

Was something wrong?

They had lived together in the U.S. when his son was younger, but life as an MLB player made it hard to spend time with family.

He urgently called his secretary to book the earliest flight to Korea and headed straight to the airport.

He tried calling his wife to ask how their son was doing, but she didn’t answer, probably busy with work.

If nothing was wrong, that would be great.

But even if there was, he had just wrapped up a busy period, so he decided to go.

He could congratulate his son in person.

After all, it wasn’t strange for a father and son to have dinner together.

—

My father really came to Korea right away.

Honestly, I wasn’t prepared at all.

But even if I wasn’t ready, I was old enough not to run away.

“Dad, you’re here?”

My short, awkward greeting made him pause for a moment, but he replied.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. How have you been?” and walked into the house.

He looked around the house awkwardly, just like I had, and sat down on the living room couch with tired eyes.

“Should we have dinner?”

It was a little past 3 p.m.

“Isn’t it a bit early for dinner?”

“It’s fine. What do you want to eat?”

“What about lunch?”

“I already ate.”

“I had a meal on the plane.”

“…”

“…”

I didn’t know what to say, so I racked my brain.

My father seemed to be doing the same.

“Uh, Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“The coach asked if you could come and teach the team a bit.”

I expected him to refuse.

After retiring, he had completely avoided anything related to baseball.

But his answer surprised me.

“Sure.”

“Huh?”

“Like a guest coach, right? I can do that.”

I was stunned.

Countless people had tried to get close to him and failed, but he agreed just like that?

“By the way, congratulations on the World Cup win and being the No. 1 pick.”

“Thank you.”

“Your pitching was great.”

“Thank you.”

“Being the No. 1 pick is a big deal. You’ve done well.”

“Thank you.”

This felt more like a conversation between a teacher and a student than a father and son.

My father’s expression shifted as if he was searching for something else to say.

He frowned, then his eyes widened, and he suddenly stood up and grabbed the glove on the table.

“This…”

Was that glove his?

The old glove I had found before traveling back in time was still there, unchanged even though I had gotten younger.

If it weren’t for that glove, I might not have believed I had traveled back in time.

Then I remembered something my father had once said offhandedly: “If you could turn back time, don’t do it.”

What did that mean? Why would he say that? Could it be…?

“Ye-seong.”

“Yes.”

My father called my name while holding the glove.

I asked nervously, “Is that glove yours?”

He wiped his face with his hand and slowly nodded.

Did he know something about that glove?

“Yeah.”

“That glove…”

I swallowed hard.

My head was spinning.

I decided to keep it simple.

What should I say?

“Dad, I think this glove is a time machine.”

My father looked stunned.

If he thought I was joking, that would be fine.

But part of me hoped he might understand.

Before I could backtrack and say it was a joke, my father spoke.

“You too…”

“…”

“Did you come back from the future?”