For the players of Seido High School's baseball team, the overwhelming victory in the first game of the Kanto Tournament didn't change their daily lives much.
At most, the substitutes who had gotten playing time felt a surge of confidence. Their recent performances had been strong, and their fighting spirit had risen accordingly.
After finally breaking into the First String, none of them wanted to remain mere supporting players.
If given the chance, they wanted to compete for starting positions.
As for the reporters—
They were practically glowing with excitement, like they had struck gold.
Not a single one of them wanted to miss the opportunity to interview Seido.
But for the players themselves, this kind of attention was nothing new.
They had already experienced it during last summer's Koshien and this year's Spring Tournament.
What people fear most is the unknown.
Without experience, there is curiosity… nervousness… even fear.
But once you've been through it?
It becomes routine.
The Seido players were already used to it, so naturally, they didn't react much.
Even regarding their substitutes crushing a national-level powerhouse—
The Seido players stayed grounded.
They believed they had simply performed exceptionally well in that particular game.
So well, in fact, that even a powerhouse like Kōhoku had been caught off guard.
On top of that, they had benefited from Zhou Hao and the others.
If Kōhoku's two pitchers hadn't already been broken down by Zhou Hao and the core lineup, the outcome wouldn't have been nearly as one-sided.
The Seido players had self-awareness.
They understood that the massive score gap didn't reflect the true difference in strength between the two teams.
Because of that, they weren't swayed by the media hype.
So when their second-round opponent was decided, they remained calm.
Focused.
Ready to face the next challenge with clear minds.
Their opponent this round:
Hakuba Academy.
A school with a formidable reputation—and exceptional athleticism across the board.
"Hakuba Academy isn't just known for baseball," someone noted. "Their other sports programs are just as strong."
"They've produced multiple national-level athletes. I heard one of their female players has already made the national team."
A high school national team member.
That title alone was enough to attract massive media attention.
Seido's players knew they had to take this opponent seriously.
"Their pitcher is Kazama," someone added. "He's a substitute pitcher for the national youth team. His strength is… terrifying."
"If he were a year older, he might've been counted among last year's three legendary pitchers."
At the mention of those three, the Seido players instinctively tensed.
Their clashes with those pitchers during last summer's Koshien were still fresh in their memories.
Some even called it one of the greatest pitching duels ever seen on that stage.
If Kazama truly stood at that level—
Then this would be no ordinary game.
"But pitching isn't the only concern," Coach Kataoka continued, his expression turning serious.
"Hakuba Academy's style is different. They're a… pragmatic team."
That one word made the entire room fall silent.
The players understood exactly what he meant.
A team that modeled itself after professional systems.
A team that played to win—by any means within the rules.
They didn't care about appearances or unwritten limits.
If necessary, they would issue intentional walks again and again.
"So… what do we do?" someone asked.
Coach Kataoka nodded.
"Originally, I planned to let our Ace rest."
After such a dominant first game, it made sense to give other pitchers more opportunities.
But now—
He had changed his mind.
Zhou Hao's condition was incredibly stable.
There was no need to worry about his mentality.
No risk of sudden collapse.
In fact, after years of coaching, Kataoka had never had an Ace as reliable as him.
When things got tough, you could send Zhou Hao to the mound—
And he would handle everything.
After analyzing Hakuba Academy's strength, one thing became clear:
Relying on Tanba and the two first-year pitchers alone… wasn't safe enough.
The risk of things spiraling out of control was too high.
And against a team like Hakuba—
Once they gained momentum, it would snowball rapidly.
Until it crushed you completely.
"Zhou Hao, you'll start again," Coach Kataoka said decisively.
"For the first three innings… use the Spiral Ball."
"The Spiral Ball?"
The players' eyes widened in unison.
They had assumed that pitch was being sealed for now.
Hadn't the Coach and Zhou Hao agreed not to use it?
Kataoka shook his head slightly.
"Precisely because we won't rely on it later, we need to use it now."
"If opponents realize Zhou Hao isn't using his strongest pitch, they'll focus entirely on countering his fastball and breaking balls."
Zhou Hao's other pitches were still formidable—
But not untouchable.
That explanation made everything clear.
"So we'll get to see it again…"
"I wonder how fast it's become now…"
All eyes turned toward Zhou Hao.
For them, it was curiosity.
For him—
It was something entirely different.
Zhou Hao could feel his blood heating up.
Since unsealing his pitching arsenal, he had mostly relied on fastballs.
The more complex pitches—the Spiral Ball and others—
Were difficult to execute without perfect control.
Even he wasn't entirely sure how they would perform in an actual game.
But that uncertainty only made him more excited.
"I've been waiting for this," he said.
"From the third inning onward, Tanba—be ready," Coach Kataoka added.
Though he wanted to give more chances to the first-years—
He couldn't ignore fairness.
Tanba was a third-year.
A core member of the team.
The two rookies were talented, yes.
But their performance hadn't clearly surpassed Tanba's yet.
At best, they were on equal footing—each with their own strengths.
In that case, denying Tanba an opportunity wouldn't be right.
The chance had to be given.
As for whether he could seize it—
That would be up to him.
Once the opportunity was given, the three pitchers would compete fairly.
At the crucial moments, Coach Kataoka would entrust the mound to whoever performed best.
"Understood!"
"From the fifth inning onward, you two first-years, be ready."
Previously, Sawamura had been completely left out of the rotation.
But this time—
Sawamura Eijun was included.
The Seido players were sharp.
From the Coach's arrangement alone, they could already tell:
Sawamura's status had changed.
Coach Kataoka was now treating him as part of the team's true combat power.
During the game against Kōhoku, even after their pitchers collapsed, Kōhoku's batters never gave up on scoring.
They no longer dreamed of a comeback—
They just wanted to score… even once… to preserve their pride.
Driven by that determination, their offense had surged with surprising force.
And yet—
Sawamura had completely suppressed them.
There had been a bit of luck involved.
But the main reason?
Sawamura's pitching.
His unique form.
His unpredictable Jerk Pitch.
Both had left Kōhoku's batters helpless.
That was a national-level powerhouse.
And yet, their core players had been toyed with like that.
Just how strong was Sawamura Eijun?
The answer was obvious.
The Seido players had witnessed it all firsthand.
That performance had left a deep impression on everyone.
So in their eyes—
Sawamura was no longer the same as before.
And because of that, Coach Kataoka's decision felt completely natural.
"The starting lineup will be: Kuramochi, Kominato, Zhou Hao, Yuki—"
At first, every name called matched expectations.
Until the final slot.
A third-year who should have been included… was absent.
Instead—
A first-year was promoted.
"Oshima Shin!"
Based on his practice performance and his showing in the previous game,
this first-year prodigy had officially taken a starting spot.
Among the second- and third-year players, tension quietly rose.
Some clenched their fists.
Others bit down on their frustration.
No one wanted to accept this result.
They were seniors.
How could they willingly give up their place to a freshman?
First-years still had time.
But for them—
If they lost this chance, they might never get it back.
And yet…
There was no argument to be made.
At Seido, strength decided everything.
Oshima might be a first-year—
But his performance in the batter's box surpassed many upperclassmen.
With that level of ability, his promotion was inevitable.
Clap. Clap clap!
Applause suddenly broke the silence.
Everyone turned—
It was Zhou Hao.
"Congratulations."
Oshima was someone Zhou Hao genuinely admired.
"Thank you, Senpai!"
That night, Seido's players continued practicing under the streetlights.
Their silhouettes stretched long across the ground as they swung their bats with full force.
Whoosh—! Whoosh—!
The sound of bats cutting through the air echoed sharply.
Their power was unmistakable.
From a distance, Coach Kataoka watched quietly.
His chest filled with emotion.
No matter how many times he saw this scene—
It always stirred something in him.
These were his players.
His students.
Maybe they didn't possess overwhelming talent like Zhou Hao.
But they had something else—
Persistence.
Discipline.
The ability to take one step forward, again and again.
In the beginning, these players weren't considered top-tier.
Not even first-rate.
Just slightly above average among their peers.
But now?
Who would dare call them weak?
Yes, Zhou Hao had helped them break through obstacles.
But in the eyes of the media—
Even without him, Seido was still a championship contender.
"Coach, it's late. You should rest. We have a game tomorrow," Manager Ota said.
Kataoka shook his head.
"If the players aren't tired, why should I be?"
Ota didn't understand.
For Kataoka—
Standing here…
Watching his players push themselves…
Seeing their determination—
This was his rest.
"Where's Zhou Hao? He's starting tomorrow."
"He found a place to practice pitching alone," Ota replied. "Said he's preparing a secret weapon."
"A secret weapon?"
Even Kataoka couldn't hide his curiosity.
But he didn't need to wait long.
Soon enough—
He would see it himself.
Time passed quickly.
In the blink of an eye, the next day arrived.
Early in the morning, Seido boarded their bus and headed to Kanagawa Stadium.
Today wasn't even a home game—
And yet, the crowd was just as large as before.
The moment their bus stopped—
They were instantly surrounded by reporters and fans.
"Coach Kataoka! Could we ask a few questions?"