Even though the Seidou High School Baseball Team once again refused to accept interviews, their fame didn't diminish in the slightest.
If anything, their silence only made them more mysterious—drawing even more reporters eager to learn about the powerhouse from West Tokyo.
Many fans who followed Seidou closely believed there was only one explanation for their refusal to speak to the media: ambition.
Why weren't they accepting interviews?
Because they were aiming higher.
The Top 16 at Koshien clearly wasn't enough to satisfy Seidou.
They planned to keep winning—until they became the most dazzling team on the national stage.
"As expected of a true powerhouse."
"Completely different from ordinary dark horse teams."
In contrast, their next opponent, Ikeda High School, had a completely different attitude.
When Ikeda's players were interviewed, they strutted like peacocks showing off their feathers—confident and flamboyant.
When asked about their chances of defeating Seidou, their answers were bold and unshakable.
"We'll definitely win!"
"One hundred percent!"
Their confidence bordered on arrogance, as if the game's outcome had already been decided.
Fans who watched those interviews were sharply divided.
Some admired Ikeda's fearlessness, saying that as the "strongest dark horse," they should have the courage to challenge giants without hesitation.
Only with such spirit could they perform their best on the field.
But others dismissed them as arrogant upstarts—lucky enough to face weaker opponents so far.
Once they stood before Seidou, they'd realize what it meant to face a true powerhouse.
Before the two teams clashed, Seidou's players happened to come across Ikeda's interview.
"I'm furious!"
Azuma Kiyokuni slammed the newspaper down, his face red with anger.
He tore the page to shreds, his eyes practically burning with rage.
"Hey, senpai! Calm down! I haven't finished reading yet!"
Some of the others didn't take Ikeda's comments too seriously.
Instead, they were more interested in the newspaper's report about Seidou.
Just because the players didn't accept interviews didn't mean reporters left them alone.
Quite the opposite—Seidou's silence only fueled curiosity.
Even without direct quotes, the papers were filled with speculation and praise, predicting a limitless future for Seidou High.
By this point in the tournament, other powerhouse schools in different groups had also started to show their strength.
Seidou's "top seed" status wasn't quite as dazzling as before—but the team still carried a different aura.
"Low-key, yet powerful."
"Seidou is a true national powerhouse—completely unlike those showy newcomers."
Fans and analysts alike couldn't help but compare Seidou and Ikeda.
And reading those articles filled Seidou's players with pride.
For a moment, some even felt that Coach Kataoka's strict restrictions on media contact were unnecessary.
After all, Koshien was the stage to shine.
For third-years especially, this was their last summer—their one shot at recognition.
But Coach Kataoka wasn't wrong.
His decision wasn't about denying them exposure; it was about keeping their focus razor-sharp.
Their only goal was to prepare for the next game and play their best baseball.
It sounded simple—but in practice, it was anything but.
In today's connected world, it was impossible to block out information completely.
Through various channels, Seidou's players still learned about public opinion, online discussions, and even scouting reports on their upcoming opponent.
And recently, more and more fans and reporters had begun to favor Seidou.
Some even predicted online that they would go on to win the national championship.
"Ikeda High? Just wait."
"We'll show them what real baseball looks like!"
Not only Azuma, but many Seidou players shared the same sentiment.
They wouldn't sit quietly while their opponents boasted so arrogantly.
"Zhou Hao's starting tomorrow, right? You better give them a good scare—throw that Spiral Ball of yours," Matsumoto said with a grin.
Shimoi nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Those guys won't know what hit them."
Zhou Hao's Spiral Ball had always been terrifying.
Aside from the two monsters from Osaka Kiryu, no one had ever managed to hit it.
And now, after refining the pitch even further, even Osaka Kiryu's Kuroda couldn't handle it.
Zhou Hao smiled faintly. "No problem."
In the game against Arayashiki High, he had only pitched two innings—barely breaking a sweat.
Now, fully rested, he was ready to face Ikeda in peak condition.
"Start with the Spiral Ball, but don't overuse it," Chris reminded him calmly. "We still need to keep both strategies in play for tomorrow."
Unlike their last match, Zhou Hao might not be starting all the way through this time.
"Don't worry, Chris. I'll be there too," Yoshida said confidently.
The last two games had given Yoshida a better understanding of his own ability.
To be honest, he wasn't intimidated by Ikeda at all.
While the players chatted excitedly, Coach Kataoka and President Ota happened to walk by the corridor.
The players didn't notice them—but every word they said reached the coaches' ears.
"Coach…" Ota whispered.
Kataoka said nothing. He simply turned away and continued walking, choosing not to interrupt.
Later that evening, during the team meeting, Coach Kataoka laid out his plan.
"Tomorrow's starting pitcher will be Zhou Hao," he announced. "You're limited to three innings. Depending on the situation, I'll adjust. Yoshida, prepare to relieve starting from the third."
"Yes, sir!" both pitchers replied in unison.
"As for tomorrow's starting catcher—Miyuki Kazuya, it's your turn."
"Yes!"
Miyuki's eyes widened slightly, surprise flashing across his face.
He hadn't expected the opportunity to come this soon.
Even the other players exchanged surprised looks.
In the previous game, Chris had been given rest.
Now, against Ikeda—the so-called strongest dark horse—Coach Kataoka was sending Miyuki instead.
Did this mean… the competition for Seidou's main catcher had officially begun?
Such a thing would be unthinkable in most teams.
Even at Seidou, it was hard to believe.