"Two outs, runner on second base!"
The smile on Osaka Kiryu's Director froze. His eyes locked on Yuki standing on second, disbelief flickering across his face.
This guy… he's no ordinary player.
That last pitch had clocked in at 152 km/h—still blazing, still rare in high school baseball. And yet Yuki had driven it cleanly his very first time seeing Kuroda's fastball.
"His strength is unfathomable…" the Director muttered.
In Seidou's dugout, Miyuki Kazuya smirked at their opponents' shaken expressions. Of course they were shocked. Without special preparation, even a powerful batter would find it nearly impossible to touch a pitch like that—especially so early in the game.
But Yuki wasn't like other players.
Before this tournament, Osaka Kiryu had undoubtedly scouted Seidou inside out. That's how they managed to adjust so quickly to Zhou Hao's pitching. Seidou, on the other hand, never had the luxury of nationwide scouting. With West Tokyo's two archrivals breathing down their necks, they barely had time to prepare for them, let alone anyone else.
And yet—Seidou did have a senior who refused to be bound by limits.
The moment he learned Kuroda could throw above 150, Yuki had spent endless hours training against a pitching machine cranked up to 155 km/h. He had carved that experience into his very muscles.
That was the difference.
"Never underestimate our seniors," Miyuki thought, eyes gleaming. "They're fighting to conquer the nation."
"Fourth batter, number 5, third baseman, Azuma Kiyokuni!"
Azuma stepped into the box.
Kuroda, unshaken on the mound, wound up again.
"Boom!!"
The ball carved through the air like a blade. Terrifying.
Azuma roared, "Go to hell!" and unleashed a full-power swing.
"Thwack!"
Air. The ball slammed into the catcher's mitt untouched.
Osaka Kiryu's supporters erupted with glee.
"That's more like it!"
"Luck won't save you twice!"
To them, Yuki's hit was a fluke. Proof would come with Azuma's failure.
But Azuma wasn't finished. Standing in the box, his eyes turned bloodshot as he forced every distraction out of his mind. His whole body tightened, senses straining to the limit. He'd practiced swinging seven to eight hundred times a day since joining Seidou. In official games, he had already blasted 47 home runs—despite Seidou's lack of Koshien appearances. Per game, his rate was the highest in the nation.
That was why he was called a monster. That was why pro scouts already hovered around him.
And now, it was time to prove it.
"Boom!!"
Another fastball screamed in. Azuma locked onto it, waist twisting, bat whipping through the zone.
"Ping!!"
The catcher's eyes went wide. He had sharp vision—sharp enough to see the bat hadn't hit the sweet spot. By all rights, the ball shouldn't fly far.
But the sheer force behind the swing carried it anyway.
The ball ripped past third base, bouncing hard into the outfield.
"It's a hit!!!"
Seidou's dugout erupted. The stands thundered with cheers.
Yuki sprinted home as Azuma stormed into second base.
"Safe!!"
"Seidou High School scores a run!" the announcer shouted, voice cracking with excitement.
For the first time, Seidou had answered Osaka Kiryu blow for blow.
West Tokyo's champions now stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the nation's strongest.
In Osaka Kiryu's dugout, the Director's face twisted, dark enough to drip water.
"Damn it!!!"
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IM SORRY EVERYONE I COUDN'T UPDATE THIS FEW DAYS BECAUSE I FORGOT TO PAY OF MY INTERNET 😭