As for the claim that Seido High School Baseball Team could remain a national powerhouse even without Zhou Hao…
To the Seido players, it sounded almost like a fairy tale.
Outsiders might not understand their situation—but how could they not?
It wasn't that the team would collapse without Zhou Hao.
But having an Ace like him made a world of difference.
That report wasn't baseless. In fact, it was backed by solid data.
Zhou Hao had only pitched two innings before handing the mound over.
The remaining innings were handled by two first-year pitchers—Sawamura Eijun and Furuya Satoru.
And it was from the third inning onward that the gap truly exploded.
Before that?
The score had only been 1–0.
If you excluded Zhou Hao's contribution entirely and looked only at the remaining seven innings—
The scoreline became 22–0.
"Nonsense!"
"If Zhou Hao hadn't crushed their pitchers first, how could we have ended up like that?"
The usually proud Isashiki Jun couldn't help but grumble.
One by one, the rest of the Seido players echoed his sentiment.
In contrast, Zhou Hao calmly read the entire report from beginning to end.
"From a statistical standpoint, their analysis isn't wrong," he said evenly.
"And honestly, everyone has improved a lot lately. Even without me, Seido would still be a strong contender."
No one agreed.
Instead, they looked at him with concern.
They didn't like hearing their Ace talk like he was separate from the team.
"What are you saying?"
"You're our Ace—don't joke like that."
Hearing their uneasy tone, Zhou Hao smiled faintly.
"Relax. I know I'm Seido's Ace. I'm just speaking objectively."
"Even without me, this team is strong."
"And besides… I'm still here."
That last sentence worked like a charm.
The tension instantly dissolved.
"Exactly!"
"With you here, plus all of us—"
"We dominated last year, and we'll do it again this year!"
"Long live Seido High School Baseball Team!"
For Seido's players, they could tolerate criticism directed at themselves.
But when it came to Zhou Hao?
Not a single negative word was acceptable.
Nearby, the two first-year pitchers watched the scene unfold.
And almost at the same time, a thought formed in both their minds.
Furuya Satoru:
So this is what it means to be an Ace.
Sawamura Eijun:
One day… I'll stand there too.
At that moment, Zhou Hao had no idea—
That both of his juniors had already set their sights on his position.
And neither of them intended to give up.
Meanwhile, the happiest people in the entire school were undoubtedly the principal and the head of academics.
A 23–0 victory—on the stage of the Kanto Tournament no less—
It had pushed Seido's reputation to an entirely new level.
They received praise from the board of directors.
Media outlets flooded in with interview requests.
The school's popularity surged alongside the team's success.
Among the reporters, one stood out.
Unlike the others who focused solely on players, he took a different angle.
Yes, the players' performance mattered.
Yes, Coach Kataoka's leadership was crucial.
But—
What about the school itself?
What kind of support had Seido provided behind the scenes?
What role had the administration played in building this powerhouse?
When the principal and head of academics heard about this line of questioning—
They were almost moved to tears.
Finally.
Someone had noticed their "contributions."
They eagerly accepted the interview.
And then…
They talked.
At length.
About how the school had supported the team.
But when the topic shifted to Zhou Hao—
They froze.
What exactly had they done for him?
They scratched their heads so hard it felt like their scalps might peel off.
The truth was simple:
Zhou Hao's growth had largely been his own doing.
If anyone deserved credit, it was Coach Kataoka for recognizing and promoting him.
As for the rest?
Not much to say.
But could they admit that?
Of course not.
So they improvised.
"When Zhou Hao first arrived, he struggled to adapt—to the environment, to the food, to everything."
"He didn't have many friends either."
"So the school made special efforts—adjusting meals to suit his preferences and providing top-tier nutritional support."
"Just look at his physique!"
"When he first joined, he was nothing like this."
"Now? He's as strong as a young bull—hitting home runs whenever he wants!"
"Back then, it was occasional. Now? It's routine."
They didn't stop there.
"We also helped him integrate socially—helped him make friends, feel at home…"
"That's how he gradually adapted to life at Seido."
By the time the interview ended—
The reporter's eyes were red.
So touching.
He had originally believed Zhou Hao's story was simple:
A prodigy arrives, dominates instantly, and crushes all opposition.
But now?
He saw it differently.
Zhou Hao's journey hadn't been easy.
Behind his brilliance—
Were countless unseen efforts.
Support.
Growth.
Step by step, he had climbed to where he stood today.
Thinking along those lines, the reporter's inspiration surged.
After returning to the office, he wrote a long, eloquent feature piece.
Once published, it immediately caused a widespread sensation.
"The Demon King Zhou Hao's Rise to Glory!"
When Fujio, the senior reporter from Baseball Kingdom Magazine, saw the article, he couldn't help but give a silent thumbs-up to his colleague.
He had seen good writers before—but never someone who could spin a story like this.
What was originally an ordinary journey had been transformed into a classic, inspirational legend under that writer's pen.
Because of how sensational it was, the article even caught the attention of an international student. Intrigued, the student translated it and posted it on social media.
When the news reached the mainland, it stirred up quite a reaction.
Although baseball wasn't a major sport there, it wasn't completely ignored either. The previous story about the Koshien "underdog team's comeback" had already made waves—even reaching general news outlets.
Now, Zhou Hao's story naturally piqued people's interest as well.
Still, for most people, it was just a small ripple.
But that small ripple…
When it reached Zhou Hao himself, it turned into something entirely different.
"Old Zhou, I heard you've really made it big now!"
The caller was Zhao Bin—Zhou Hao's former middle school deskmate and gaming partner. Back then, the two of them had been inseparable.
At that time, Zhou Hao hadn't yet realized what kind of world he was in. The system hadn't awakened either.
According to his original plan, he intended to start building his future from high school. With memories of web novels from his previous life, he thought he could enter the entertainment industry—becoming a screenwriter, then a director.
With his family's wealth and resources, success seemed almost guaranteed.
It was a solid plan.
But then… the system awakened.
Compared to an ordinary successful life, who could refuse something like that?
And in a world like this, who could resist stepping onto the same stage as the protagonists?
In the end, Zhou Hao chose Seido.
Even so, he never completely cut off his past connections. They just didn't stay in touch as often.
"I was already promising, okay?" Zhou Hao shot back without hesitation.
That was just how they talked—no need for politeness between brothers.
"If you don't come back soon, we're throwing you a welcome party anyway," Zhao Bin laughed.
"Not anytime soon. If I miss New Year, then probably after graduation."
Zhou Hao's plans were clear.
As long as the system continued to benefit him, he would keep pushing forward—eventually entering professional baseball.
On the Major League stage, he would create his own legend.
"Man, reporters are even asking to interview me now," Zhao Bin said. "I've never even seen one up close before!"
"Then behave yourself. Don't embarrass me."
After hanging up, Zhou Hao's phone didn't stop ringing.
Teachers. Relatives. Old acquaintances. Even people he barely remembered.
There was a saying:
A poor man can't draw attention even in a crowded market, but a rich man in the mountains can't escape visitors even with weapons.
Zhou Hao hadn't fully understood that before.
His family was already well-off. When he came to study here, his parents even arranged housing and a nanny for him—something most families couldn't dream of.
Back then, it didn't feel like anything special.
But now?
Now that he had shown exceptional talent…
Those distant connections suddenly came flooding back, like sharks drawn to blood.
Only then did Zhou Hao truly understand:
What belongs to others will always belong to others.
Before, people approached his parents.
Now, they approached him.
Because he had proven his own worth.
It was a strange feeling.
A bit annoying…
Yet undeniably satisfying.
For the first time, the Seido players noticed just how many calls Zhou Hao was receiving.
Normally, his family avoided contacting him during training or games. So his teammates rarely saw him on the phone.
But recently?
At least four or five calls a day.
"Did something happen at home?" Kuramochi asked, frowning. "If you need help, say it."
"Yeah, me too!" Sawamura chimed in.
In Tokyo, people were used to keeping distance—handling their own problems and not burdening others.
Even within Seido, that mindset lingered.
So Zhou Hao hadn't expected this.
These two… stepped forward without hesitation.
They even insisted he come to them if anything was wrong.
It felt… unfamiliar.
But also warm.
How could real friends just stand by?
"Thanks, guys," Zhou Hao said with a smile. "Everything's fine. My fame just reached back home—people are calling to congratulate me."
Kuramochi immediately clicked his tongue.
"Tch. I played well too. Those guys back then…"
Thinking about his old friends—and everything he had done for them—he felt a lump in his chest.
Sawamura, on the other hand, was completely different.
His friends back home contacted him all the time, especially his childhood friend. They constantly exchanged messages.
"It sounds like Zhou-senpai was pretty popular back home too?" Sawamura asked curiously.