"Me!"
The instant that voice rang out, the entire Seido High School Baseball Team seemed to stop breathing.
Tanba Koichiro and Kawakami Norifumi had hesitated for a reason.
They knew all too well what kind of monsters their teammates became once they stepped into the batter's box.
And now—
Zhou Hao was walking toward the pitcher's mound.
The First String batters reacted almost instinctively.
Facing Zhou Hao head-on?
That wasn't courage—that was courting death.
This wasn't about lacking ambition. If the pitcher had been anyone else—even the three star pitchers from last year—Seido's First String batters wouldn't have hesitated.
But this was Zhou Hao.
The man who had nearly earned the title of invincible at Koshien.
No batter in the country could confidently say they could control him.
They had just returned from break. No one wanted their confidence shattered on day one.
Coach Kataoka studied Zhou Hao quietly.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I'm sure."
There wasn't the slightest hesitation.
"Alright," Kataoka said decisively.
"Zhou Hao will pitch."
The coach's trust in his Ace was obvious—almost blatant.
Even though several players looked as if they had swallowed something unpleasant, Kataoka showed no intention of reconsidering.
"Senior Zhou Hao is pitching?"
"But this is defensive practice—how are we supposed to hit?"
The first-year newcomers undergoing testing stared in shock.
That was Zhou Hao.
Anyone who aspired to join Seido had studied this team beforehand. After all, they were joining the reigning national champions.
And at the center of everything stood Zhou Hao.
Some had heard rumors of injury.
But seeing him step onto the mound erased all doubt.
Either the rumors were false—or Zhou Hao had already recovered.
No matter which was true, one thing was certain:
Batting against him would be pure torture.
"Kanemaru, continue your test."
As Kanemaru stepped up, Zhou Hao was already standing on the mound.
The first batter he faced—
Leadoff hitter. Shortstop.
Kuramochi Yoichi.
"Zhou Hao-san," Kuramochi grinned.
"I won't hold back."
Despite their good relationship, this was their first real confrontation.
Zhou Hao rarely pitched during practice. And during internal games, both had always been starters.
This was rare.
Kuramochi knew the truth.
With his batting ability, hitting Zhou Hao was nearly impossible.
But—
If he did manage it?
That would be legendary.
No downside. Massive upside.
Kuramochi's blood boiled with excitement.
"Even if you're my friend," he declared, "I'm going all out!"
Zhou Hao didn't reply.
He simply lifted his leg—and pitched.
Whoosh!
The baseball tore through the air.
The onlookers felt a chill crawl up their spines.
Zhou Hao was clearly holding back.
The speed wasn't maxed. The angle wasn't vicious.
And yet—
The pitch carried a pressure that made the freshmen's scalps tingle.
This was the Ace of the national champions?
Several first-years instinctively realized—
With their current ability, they wouldn't even touch the ball.
And just as those thoughts surfaced—
Ping!
The bat connected.
The baseball flew.
Kuramochi exploded forward, sprinting like a wild beast.
By the time the infielder turned, it was already too late.
"Damn it—how is he that fast?!"
Kuramochi slid safely into first.
"Yeehaaa! That's how you do it!"
He waved his arms wildly, excitement bursting out of him.
Half of Seido's First String erupted with laughter and cheers.
The other half narrowed their eyes.
Something wasn't right.
Sawamura Eijun froze.
His pupils shrank.
"How… how is that possible?"
That was Zhou Hao.
The Zhou Hao who dominated Koshien.
Sawamura had watched every broadcast. Every inning.
Those games had completely changed his understanding of baseball.
Baseball wasn't about reckless passion.
Even someone like Zhou Hao needed teammates.
That realization had shaped Sawamura's growth.
And now—
The man who taught him all of this was being hit?
Sawamura couldn't accept it.
The second batter stepped in.
Kominato Ryosuke.
Smiling calmly, he lowered his center of gravity.
Kuramochi edged off the base, ready to steal.
With his speed, any careless move would be disastrous.
What should have been routine practice suddenly felt like a real game.
The freshmen stopped testing without realizing it.
All eyes turned to the field.
Even Oshima Shin watched carefully, a faint smile forming.
"So this is the national champion…"
Zhou Hao pitched again.
Whoosh!
Sharp angle. Clean trajectory.
Ping!
Another hit.
Kuramochi sprinted to third.
Ryosuke reached first.
No outs.
Runners on first and third.
The First String finally relaxed.
So that's it.
Among the freshmen, whispers erupted.
"He got hit again?"
"So the injury rumors were real?"
Oshima shook his head.
"Idiots."
The others glared at him.
"What did you say?"
Sawamura's heart raced.
"Both balls," Oshima said calmly,
"were hit within defensive range."
"The problem wasn't the pitcher."
"It was the fielders."
The freshmen froze.
Understanding flickered across a few faces.
Oshima continued.
"Still don't get it?"
"Zhou Hao is pitching based on each batter's ability and habits."
"Every hit is intentional."
"Every ball lands where the defense should be."
"He's controlling the batter."
"And the direction of the hit."
"This is batting practice."
"This is defensive practice."
"But it's not pitching practice."
Silence.
All eyes returned to the mound.
The man standing there—
Wasn't overpowering them.
He was controlling everything.
Batters. Fielders. Outcomes.
Even the flow of practice itself.
Reason screamed that such control was impossible.
But—
That was Zhou Hao.
Time passed.
The First String focused on preparation.
The freshmen watched in awe.
Ten days later—
Seido High School Baseball Team went their first official game of the season.
And the curtain truly began to rise.