30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 169

“Have you ever watched baseball?”

Ihan had once been completely ignorant about baseball, but during his time in the military, he had no choice but to watch it.

One of his senior noncommissioned officers was a baseball fan, and in the military, accommodating the hobbies of higher-ranking officers was as natural as the cycle of nature.

—What the hell are they even talking about...?

At first, it was all confusing.

The rules, the way points were scored—it didn’t make sense.

Batting averages? On-base percentages?

None of it clicked, but as time passed, he was (forcefully) trained to watch baseball, developed a favorite team, and eventually found himself celebrating wins and sulking over losses.

Before he knew it, he was watching postseason games in the fall—

—Baseball is absolutely insane!

Ihan found himself shouting at the opposing team and experiencing firsthand how his blood pressure spiked whenever his team lost.

Soon, instead of playing foot volleyball with the others during physical training, Ihan began throwing baseballs, swinging bats, and practicing alone.

His reasoning?

—If I’m going to insult the players, I might as well understand how hard their sport actually is.

...And then—

—Holy hell, this is insanely hard.

Ihan realized just how unforgiving the sport was.

Throwing a ball properly was no joke.

Hitting one cleanly was even worse.

What shocked him most was how hard and heavy the baseball felt.

Throwing it with full force left his elbows and shoulders feeling like they were being ground down.

And then there were curveballs and sliders.

After watching tutorial videos and trying to throw them himself, Ihan felt like his wrists were being ground down too.

He finally understood why pitchers frequently underwent surgeries and why they joked about “replacing their elbows.”

After that, Ihan stopped yelling at pitchers—and stopped watching baseball altogether.

No yelling meant no high blood pressure.

Instead, he picked up the hobby of playing catch and occasionally practiced throwing breaking balls.

It was his first real hobby in the bleak life of a soldier, and he even thought about joining an amateur league after retiring.

But who would’ve thought—

‘So this is how it’d come in handy?’

Ihan chuckled to himself, stretching his arms.

“Okay, so you’re saying I just need to scrape along that point? Should I go with a cutter or a slider...?”

“...What are cutters and sliders?”

“Just follow along.”

“Fine, I’ll do that.”

“...Why are you suddenly so cooperative?”

“Because I’m not the one who has to execute it.”

“Hey....”

What a shameless bastard.

‘He’s the one who’s making me do this....’

But—

“If you’re scared, we can stop right now.”

“...Thanks for the taunt.”

It was the perfect provocation—leaving Ihan no choice but to follow through.

He smirked.

After all—

“I was going to break through this thing no matter what.”

There was no way he’d let those damn mages get away with this.

And so—

Crunch!

“Make sure you guide me properly.”

“I don’t make mistakes.”

“...What a smug bastard.”

Ihan began to rotate his body.

The guide said they needed the power, precision, and speed to match the capsule.

At first, Ihan thought about using the Piercing Spear.

But—

‘That’s not enough.’

The Piercing Spear had power but lacked control.

So instead—

Crunch!

‘I’ll just do it myself!’

Ihan activated Sky Step.

But this time, the flow was different.

Instead of simply stepping through the air, his movements began to swirl—like he was floating.

Whirr!

The gathering energy thickened.

The air trembled as power focused on Ihan, and soon, his body became a small, swirling typhoon.

This was a technique that Ihan had developed during his battle with Tristan—

Derived from the mythical arts of Kunlun, the land of immortals, yet adapted by Ihan’s unique interpretation—

Cloud Dragon: Eight Revolutions.

Nothing under heaven could stop the movements of a dragon riding the clouds—

BOOM!

Ihan launched himself.

His speed matched the capsules fired at the Magic Tower, heading straight for the target.

Then—

Flash!

A spear shot out ahead of him, faster than Ihan himself—

As if pointing the way.

“──.”

Without hesitation, Ihan adjusted his angle to match the spear’s trajectory.

Where the spear flew—

‘That’s the weak point.’

Ihan coiled his body tightly.

What he needed now was precision, speed, and the relentless cutting force to shred through the massive structure—no, this giant bat.

Grrrrrrind!

Ihan’s spinning body sliced into the Magic Tower’s barrier, grinding it down like a sawblade.

Rumble...!

The Tower shook.

*****

“Am... Am I dreaming...?”

Patrick stared, his jaw hanging open.

A man was flying.

Not just flying—he had turned into a small typhoon and was tearing into the Magic Tower.

...If he told anyone this story, they’d think he was high.

But Patrick was just describing what he saw—and he was completely stunned.

However—

“—Still not enough.”

“Sir Knight?”

“Step back.”

“!!”

Chill.