As the Koshien tournament progressed toward its climax, the Seidou High School Baseball Team's strength became increasingly undeniable.
More and more people firmly believed they would ultimately win the championship.
Whenever the players walked outside and were recognized, they were treated like celebrities.
Some passersby pointed and whispered excitedly.
Others—bolder and more outgoing—approached them directly to ask for photos.
Countless reporters waited outside their hotel lobby every morning, eager for interviews.
Although the Seidou players knew there were people out there secretly slandering them out of jealousy, what did it matter?
Empty slander meant nothing.
They were already one of the Top Four teams in Koshien.
Reaching this stage wasn't luck—it was proof of strength, built on real victories.
They feared no doubts.
If anything, doubts only made them stronger.
Just as they had done up to this point, they would crush all disbelief with their performance.
"Everyone, get some rest. Our opponent for the next game will be decided soon."
Coach Kataoka and Manager Ota kept reminding the players not to underestimate anyone.
They were still two games away from dominating the nation—semifinals, then finals.
But despite their warnings, neither Kataoka nor Ota suggested watching the other quarterfinal match that would determine their semifinal opponent.
Instead, the two of them were unusually focused on studying Seibo High School.
Even though Seibo would only appear in the finals if both teams advanced, Kataoka and Ota had already begun deep research.
Originally, they planned to let the players participate in the scouting as well.
But doing so before even playing the semifinals risked distracting them.
So, they gave up that idea.
For the semifinal opponent, they only sent Takashima Rei and a representative to scout.
And that was it.
"Our Coach has so much confidence in us it's like we've already won the finals."
When the Seidou players chatted among themselves, their faces were filled with pride.
Why did their usually serious and cautious coach show this much confidence?
Because now—
They were different.
If they had not defeated Osaka Kiryu…
If they had not overcome the third-seeded Seisho High…
Would Kataoka ignore their semifinal opponent like this?
Of course not.
A semifinalist was always a powerhouse. Their minimum strength was guaranteed.
But Coach Kataoka's attitude showed plain and simple:
Seidou had reached a level where they no longer feared such opponents.
Strength built confidence.
And Seidou had plenty.
"Where's Zhou Hao? I haven't seen him since morning."
Their Ace—who had single-handedly pitched an entire game against national powerhouse Seisho High, allowing only one hit—was nowhere to be found.
For the last two days, media headlines practically worshipped him as the new No. 1 pitcher in high school baseball.
Some Seidou players felt complicated about how their first-year junior had suddenly overshadowed even their three veteran star pitchers…
…but more than anything, they were genuinely happy for him.
Zhou Hao deserved every word of praise.
Miyuki finally spoke up.
"After breakfast he went back to his room. He said not to disturb him before the team meeting—he wanted to rest properly."
Everyone nodded.
Zhou Hao had clearly exceeded his physical limit in the last game.
Even with rest days between matches, nobody believed his stamina had fully recovered.
The thought of playing without Zhou Hao made everyone uneasy.
"Then he really needs the rest."
"Maybe he shouldn't pitch in the semifinals?"
"Coach will handle it. He can avoid pitching, but…"
They knew pitching wasn't Zhou Hao's only role.
He was also one of Seidou's core hitters.
And their spiritual pillar.
Even standing in the dugout, Zhou Hao boosted morale.
Keeping him off the field entirely felt unthinkable.
Meanwhile, alone in his room, Zhou Hao sat cross-legged, organizing everything he had gained.
His Sharingan had evolved three times—now a three-tomoe Sharingan.
One-tomoe: enhanced vision
Two-tomoe: simulation
Three-tomoe: perfect replication
Not just replication—clarity.
He now saw everything far more precisely.
He reviewed his pitching techniques:
Spiral Ball – Level 3
Straight Ball (Kunai Throwing Technique) – Level 3
Changeup (Uchiha Shuriken Technique) → basis for his Invisible and Vanishing balls.
All performed exceptionally well against Seisho High.
His additional reward, the Body Flicker Technique, improved his acceleration and compensated for his speed disadvantage.
Originally, Zhou Hao thought his only path forward was completing tasks one step at a time.
But the game against Seisho changed everything.
When he replicated Akutsu's Bullet Ball, he had only intended to intimidate the opponent.
He never expected—
The system acknowledged it as a learnable pitch.
That meant he could upgrade the Bullet Ball just like his other skills.
The implications were enormous.
And a thought struck him.
If pitching could be replicated…
could hitting be replicated too?
Zhou Hao could hit home runs and had countless hits. But he wasn't satisfied.
What if he had Yuki's decisiveness?
Azuma Kiyokuni's raw power?
Would every hit become a home run?
Just the idea made his heart race.
Why rely on teammates to bat him home…
when he could simply send the ball out of the stadium?
He also thought of stealing bases, fielding skills, and overall baseball IQ.
With three-tomoe Sharingan, he could replicate, imitate—
and surpass them.
This was the true power of the Sharingan.
He began drafting a list.
Not of players—but of specific abilities worth copying.
Selective replication.
Only the essential, the applicable, the strongest.
"This is the true power of the Sharingan…"
With his thoughts organized, Zhou Hao finally stepped out of his room.
When he rejoined the team, everyone stole subtle glances at him.
Their weird behavior made Zhou Hao's skin crawl.
"What are you plotting?"
Without hesitation, he confronted Miyuki.
No evidence needed—his instincts screamed Miyuki was involved.
"Don't accuse me! Everyone's just worried about your stamina."
Zhou Hao stretched his shoulders.
Of course he knew his stamina was still low.
"I've rested well. I'm fine for the next game."
The team exchanged doubtful looks.
Even Chris seemed unsure.
"Are you really okay?"
"I'm totally fine. Even if I pitch another full—"
He stopped mid-sentence as Coach Kataoka walked in.
"Our next opponent has been decided: Rokkaku High School."
No one was surprised.
Rokkaku had shown better form throughout the tournament.
Then Kataoka turned to Zhou Hao.
"Zhou Hao, you won't pitch in the semifinals. Focus on fielding."
He had already made up his mind.
Zhou Hao absolutely had to be in perfect condition for the finals.
Unless it was an absolute emergency, Kataoka would not let him touch the mound.
Zhou Hao felt a hint of disappointment…
But also relief.
He would use this game—
to replicate.