"R-Really…?"
Miyuki Kazuya slowly stood up, his movements stiff, his gaze locked onto the baseball rolling weakly across the ground.
Behind him, Coach Kataoka—acting as the umpire—felt his pupils tremble beneath his sunglasses.
What he had just witnessed was something he could barely accept.
That pitch…
The power and momentum were completely abnormal.
When Ushijima Wakatoshi pitched, his arm swing cut through the air with a sharp whooshing sound—
a sound that didn't feel like wind resistance, but like a roar.
To the batter standing in front of it, it felt less like a baseball and more like an enraged beast.
Like a starving wolf, baring its icy fangs as it lunged forward, radiating overwhelming pressure.
On the pitcher's mound, Ushijima Wakatoshi stood silently.
He knew very well—
That pitch had only used eighty percent of his strength.
Even so, its velocity was already around 155 km/h.
If he threw at full power—ignoring control completely and focusing solely on speed—
it would definitely exceed 170 km/h.
After all, the fastest Four-seam fastball in the world was recorded at 169 km/h.
And he knew he wasn't slower than that.
But his control was only Silver.
If he threw at full strength, the ball would fly wildly off course.
And a baseball traveling at 170 km/h…
What would happen if it hit someone?
A car moving at 90 km/h could easily kill a person on impact.
Even though a baseball was smaller, a direct hit at that speed would still be extremely lethal.
That was why Ushijima Wakatoshi had held back.
Yet even at eighty percent—
The ball had sailed past the left batter's box, at roughly the umpire's head height, and smashed violently into the iron backstop.
That was why Miyuki hadn't been able to catch it.
If Kuramochi had been standing in the left batter's box instead of the right—
That pitch would have struck his head.
Helmet or not, he would have been seriously injured.
And that was only at eighty percent.
"Gulp…"
Kuramochi swallowed hard, cold sweat trickling down his back.
This bastard…
He has power like this, and he still wants to seal it away?!
"Bastard…!" Kuramochi cursed inwardly, anger mixing with fear.
No matter how carefree he usually acted, he understood one thing clearly—
Seido High School's greatest weakness had always been pitching.
No matter how strong the batting lineup was, without a reliable ace, the team would eventually be crushed.
There had never been a Koshien champion without a dominant Pitcher.
Seido hadn't reached Koshien for years precisely because they couldn't attract elite pitching talent.
And now—
Someone like this was standing right in front of them.
Meanwhile, Ushijima Wakatoshi was equally speechless.
Eighty percent, and the control is still this bad…
That pitch just now crossed straight through the left batter's box.
If someone had been standing there, they'd definitely be injured.
Should I hold back even more?
If the Catcher can't catch it, no matter how fast it is, it's meaningless.
With that thought, Ushijima Wakatoshi raised his glove and caught the ball tossed back by Miyuki.
"That was a powerful pitch," Miyuki said seriously.
"One more."
Ushijima Wakatoshi spread his hands helplessly.
"No. I'll pitch with less power."
"What?!"
Kuramochi exploded immediately.
"Bastard, are you looking down on me?"
"What do you mean 'less power'? Even if my batting sucks, it's not so bad that you need to go easy on me!"
Ushijima Wakatoshi frowned.
"Are you blind?"
"Did you not see the trajectory of that pitch just now?"
Kuramochi froze.
…He had.
Coach Kataoka also nodded inwardly.
"I can throw with the same power as before," Ushijima Wakatoshi continued calmly,
"but I can't guarantee whether the next pitch will fly through the left batter's box or the right."
"I've already said it—my control is terrible."
"If I hit you and injure you…"
"…your Shortstop position will be mine."
The moment Ushijima Wakatoshi finished speaking, he stepped back into pitching posture.
Kuramochi backed away immediately.
"No—no—no! Just use a speed you can control!"
Since Kuramochi had said that, Ushijima Wakatoshi didn't argue further.
Miyuki squatted down and set his glove.
The moment Ushijima Wakatoshi saw its position, his pupils contracted.
This bastard… he's doing it on purpose.
Miyuki had set his mitt on the inside corner.
Despite knowing Ushijima Wakatoshi's poor control, he still called for an inside pitch.
Inside pitches were the best way to test control.
Miyuki was clearly provoking him.
Fine.
Ushijima Wakatoshi lifted his leg.
Turned.
Stepped.
Twisted—
And unleashed his arm.
The white baseball shot forward.
Kuramochi, standing in the right batter's box, instinctively recoiled.
Although the pitch was slightly slower than the previous one, it was still terrifyingly fast.
As it entered the batter's box, its trajectory wavered.
Miyuki reacted instantly, stretching his body to catch it.
Smack!!!
The ball was caught—
But Miyuki's posture twisted unnaturally.
"Ball!" Coach Kataoka announced.
Yet internally, his heart was pounding.
That pitch had been extremely close to the strike zone.
Which meant—
If Ushijima Wakatoshi reduced his speed just a little more, he could throw strikes.
The coach quickly estimated the velocity.
Around 145 to 150 km/h.
Which meant—
At 140 to 145 km/h, Ushijima Wakatoshi could likely maintain control.
"Excellent ball power," Miyuki said, standing up and throwing the ball back.
"But the trajectory is still off."
"Can you throw it into the strike zone at this speed?"
Ushijima Wakatoshi caught the ball and replied honestly:
"If we ignore location, yes."
"But if you want precise corners, then no."
"At the moment, the Four-seam fastball I can actually control…"
"…is only in the 140 km/h range."