Morning practice finally came to an end.
As the players loosened up and prepared to leave the field, Zhou Hao noticed something odd.
Coach Kataoka glanced at him several times.
Not once. Not twice.
Several times.
On a team like Seido High School Baseball Team, no one lacked sensitivity.
The moment Kataoka's gaze lingered, it was noticed.
"How did you offend the Coach?"
Miyuki Kazuya leaned over with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the situation.
Even Kuramochi, who was currently being punished with extra running, slowed his pace just to listen.
"Yeah, tell us already—"
Zhou Hao scratched his head awkwardly.
He seriously reflected on the past few hours and came to a firm conclusion.
"I just got back today. I haven't even talked to the Coach yet. How could I have offended him?"
Seeing Zhou Hao's genuinely puzzled expression, Miyuki suddenly snapped his fingers.
"Then it must be because of this morning."
"Morning?"
"That first-year who butted heads with the Coach."
Miyuki's eyes gleamed.
Within Seido High School Baseball Team, Coach Kataoka's authority was absolute.
Yet today, a freshman—someone who had just joined—had openly challenged him.
That was practically slapping the Coach in the face.
And Sawamura Eijun's brief eye contact with Zhou Hao during that moment hadn't escaped Miyuki's sharp eyes.
Coupled with Kataoka's terrifying perception, it was very possible the Coach had noticed everything—but chosen not to address it immediately.
"You're done for," Miyuki declared confidently.
"The Coach definitely took it to heart."
"No way. Is the Coach really that petty?" Kuramochi asked, doubtful.
But after recalling certain past events, Kuramochi found himself unable to argue.
Masuko Toru had been demoted to the second string over a single mistake.
Coach Kataoka wasn't someone who tolerated open disrespect.
Zhou Hao shrugged, unfazed.
"If the Coach really has an issue, we'll deal with it then. He's reasonable—if he wants to discipline someone, he'll at least have a proper excuse."
Just like with Sawamura.
Despite that incident, the kid still completed his freshman test.
"By the way," Miyuki suddenly asked, eyes narrowing with interest,
"what did you say to that guy? Compared to last year, his pitching's on another level."
Miyuki had seen Sawamura pitch before.
There was no doubt—last year's Sawamura couldn't do that.
"I didn't say much," Zhou Hao replied honestly.
"I just gave him a few pointers."
Even Zhou Hao himself was surprised.
He knew Sawamura had talent.
But improving this much just from a few words?
His velocity had increased, his mechanics were steadier, and even his control seemed better.
But none of that was the most frightening part.
Sawamura's true terror lay in his raw pitching talent.
And that talent only truly revealed itself on the mound.
"So… how'd you do on finals?"
The third semester had ended, and grades were already out.
Because of the holidays, the team hadn't talked much about it.
Kuramochi asked casually.
Miyuki raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't expect you to care about grades. The team doesn't require them."
No matter how bad their scores were, they could still play.
Besides, both Miyuki and Zhou Hao had always been above average.
"It's different," Kuramochi replied seriously.
"We didn't make Koshien last autumn. Even if the school doesn't care, reporters will still ask."
Last summer, Seido had conquered Koshien.
Those who experienced it firsthand might not have felt much.
But Kuramochi, who watched from the sidelines, remembered everything vividly.
Reporters always asked about academics.
After all, they were students first.
Strong grades made star players look complete.
Kuramochi didn't want to be humiliated during interviews.
"I was ninth in my class," Miyuki said casually.
"Top forty in the grade."
"All A's," Zhou Hao added simply.
Kuramochi froze.
"That's impossible. Last year, your grades were—"
"Probably because the autumn tournament didn't go well," Zhou Hao replied smoothly.
"I studied more."
He didn't explain further.
The truth was—
The Three-Tomoe Sharingan had exceeded all expectations.
Not only did it grant him visual prowess—it gave him something terrifying.
Photographic Memory.
Everything he read. Everything he studied. Every formula.
More terrifying still—he understood them.
Applied them.
This wasn't something Zhou Hao had ever possessed before.
If he didn't deliberately hold back, ranking first in the entire grade would have been effortless.
He had already begun self-studying university-level material.
But those secrets… were his alone.
After the class reshuffle, Zhou Hao, Miyuki, and Kuramochi ended up in the same class.
It wasn't coincidence.
Key players. Strong bonds.
The school always made certain adjustments.
As soon as they entered, the atmosphere exploded.
"That's Zhou Hao!"
"He's even more handsome in person!"
"Stop it—we're in the same grade!"
"It's different this year!"
Zhou Hao wasn't stunning at first glance.
But the more you looked, the harder it was to look away.
Even Miyuki and Kuramochi received plenty of attention.
"I heard Chris is back. Can you keep your starting spot?"
"Of course."
Miyuki answered without hesitation.
Defeating Chris openly had always been his dream.
"This year, we're beating Inashiro and ruling the nation!"
"Hee-haw! Leave it to me!"
Kuramochi slapped his chest.
As class officially began, Zhou Hao glanced at the lesson.
It felt like listening to someone recite the multiplication table.
He quietly opened a university textbook.
The teacher noticed—and frowned.
Normally, he wouldn't care.
Zhou Hao was destined for the pros.
But Zhou Hao wasn't just an athlete.
His grades had skyrocketed.
How could the teacher give up on him?
"Zhou Hao. Answer this."
Zhou Hao stood.
"X equals 0.75."
He paused.
"Also, Teacher Kuwata—you made a mistake on the second line."
The classroom exploded into silence.
Mental calculation. Instant correction.
Miyuki and Kuramochi stared.
"He wasn't like this last semester," Miyuki whispered.
"Not even close," Kuramochi replied.
Afternoon practice arrived.
Freshmen tested.
Upperclassmen trained.
"Focus on defense first," Coach Kataoka said.
"Who wants to pitch?"
His gaze settled on Tanba and Kawakami.
Last autumn's loss wasn't Zhou Hao's fault.
He had already done the impossible.
The real issue—
No one to share the burden.
Now, Tanba and Kawakami were the candidates.
As soon as live pitching was announced, Seido's batters lit up.
Yuki. Ryosuke. Isashiki. Masuko. Miyuki.
Tanba and Kawakami stiffened.
They knew.
Facing these monsters wasn't easy.
Just as silence fell—
A hand shot up.
"Me!"