As Zhou Hao and Azuma Kiyokuni successively crossed home plate, the score rose to 2–0.
Many people who were already dissatisfied with the Rokkaku High School Baseball Team finally felt relieved.
Although Rokkaku was indeed a powerhouse, they were certainly not among the top-tier elites. Much of their success came from geographical advantage—simply put, their district had very few strong opponents. That was how Rokkaku managed to dominate locally and become a "powerhouse."
To think that a team carried by luck could climb all the way into the national Final Four…
How could the genuinely strong teams that were eliminated early possibly accept this?
Osaka Kiryu lost to Seido.
And although that match was intense, Seido's strength was undeniable.
So why should a team like Rokkaku take up a Final Four slot?
Many spectators were unhappy about it. They wanted Rokkaku to finally hit a wall—and be crushed.
Now, the chance had arrived.
These fans were excited.
"Time to show Rokkaku their place."
"Do they really think the national elites are that easy to deal with?"
Of course, the Coach and players of Rokkaku High were fully aware of this sentiment.
Yes, they made it to the Final Four.
Yes, they defeated two national-level schools.
But the reality was simple:
Their road was paved by luck.
First, their tournament bracket.
Although they encountered some strong opponents, they never once faced a genuine top-seeded national powerhouse.
The probability of that happening was astronomically low.
Meanwhile, Seido's path was the complete opposite.
They fought and defeated the Universe Team Osaka Kiryu.
They eliminated the third-seeded Seisho High.
Every opponent was either a national titan or a rising super-dark-horse.
Victory after victory, they proved their worth.
Even many fans had begun to think:
"If Seido really wins this whole tournament, I'll accept it."
Because Seido's achievements were real—earned by skill, grit, and overwhelming performance.
Compared to that, Rokkaku's resume simply paled.
Still, the Rokkaku players believed they weren't that far behind.
They had fought their way here too.
They had beaten national-level schools.
They weren't weak.
Even if they were at a disadvantage, they shouldn't be utterly helpless.
Or so they thought.
But once they faced Seido directly…
All of those comforting beliefs shattered.
The game had just begun.
The score was only 2–0.
They weren't at a dead end yet.
There was still time.
But looking at the fans' reactions, and recalling how easily Seido broke through them, the truth could no longer be denied:
They couldn't stop this Seido team.
Even simply limiting Seido's scoring would be incredibly difficult.
A comeback?
Impossible.
They glanced over at Seido's dugout.
Seido had just opened the game with a clean, powerful home run from their cleanup hitter and secured a two-run lead… yet their attitude remained calm.
No excessive excitement.
No over-celebration.
As if this was normal—expected.
"This is Koshien. This is the semifinals…"
Bright lights, national broadcast, hundreds of media outlets covering every moment of the match.
If Rokkaku's players pulled off such a performance, they would be ecstatic.
But Seido acted as if this was routine.
From that small detail alone… the enormous gulf between the two teams was obvious.
To Seido, winning today was simply a matter of course.
Realizing this, Rokkaku's Coach instinctively turned toward their Ace, Mitai.
The other experienced players could still keep their composure.
But Mitai had never faced a situation like this.
Would he buckle?
Could he withstand this pressure?
Thinking of this made the Coach even more uneasy.
At this moment, Seido had Yoshida on the mound.
It was clear Seido planned to let Zhou Hao rest fully for the finals—entering the championship in his strongest condition.
But if anything went wrong…
Seido could simply bring out their real monster again: Zhou Hao.
If Seido switched pitchers, they would only get stronger.
Meanwhile, what could Rokkaku do?
Their bullpen was weak.
Their relief pitchers weren't even close to Mitai's level.
If they substituted him now, they'd be completely annihilated.
They had no options.
All they could do was rely on Mitai.
Mitai, standing on the pitcher's mound, also fully understood the gap between their teams after Higashi Kiyokuni's hit.
From here on, he needed to pitch with extreme caution.
"Boom!"
Two outs, no one on base.
Shimo'i Teru stepped into the batter's box.
Many believed that compared to Seido's three core sluggers, Seido's No. 5 batter was less threatening.
Against Kuroda and Akutsu, Shimo'i had struggled.
So logically, he should be the easiest part of Seido's lineup to handle.
But reality proved otherwise.
After two pitches, Shimo'i swung decisively—
"Ping!"
The ball shot into the outfield.
Rokkaku's fielder charged forward—
Too slow!
He was still half a meter away when the ball hit the ground and bounced past him.
The Seido dugout erupted.
"It's through!!"
Shimo'i safely reached first.
"Two outs, runner on first!"
Seido's supporters burst into cheers.
Rokkaku's supporters, meanwhile, were stunned speechless.
How?
How was Seido still attacking after already scoring two runs!?
Their understanding of Seido's lineup shattered completely.
Up in the stands, several professional scouts exchanged glances.
"Rokkaku must be blind," one of them muttered.
In their eyes, Shimo'i was never weak.
His low batting average came from facing only elite Aces—Kuroda, Akutsu, and two other national-caliber pitchers.
Against a pitcher only slightly weaker, his true ability finally showed.
"Sixth batter, catcher—Chris!"
Chris stepped into the batter's box, earning a wave of screams from his fans.
Mitai pitched—
"Boom!"
Chris's lips curled.
"Good pitch."
Mitai wasn't bad.
Under normal circumstances, continuous scoring should have been difficult.
But after Zhou Hao and Azuma shook his confidence, Mitai was no longer the same pitcher.
He was unstable.
And instability was fatal against Seido.
Chris swung.
"Ping!"
The Rokkaku Ace and fielders felt the sky collapse.
Hit again!?
The ball dropped into the outfield; the fielder failed to stop it.
Shimo'i sprinted to third.
Chris reached first.
Two outs—runners on the corners.
The score remained 2–0, but the game was slipping away fast.
Even the most optimistic Rokkaku supporter felt despair creeping in.
"Is there really… no hope?"