Ayanokoji felt something was odd about Aoba's batting order.
Noda Yusei and Katsuta Musashi, the leadoff and second batter, were both strong hitters.
But the third and fourth batters were weak.
Even if the first two managed to get on base, so what?
As long as he could strike out the third, fourth, and fifth batters, Aoba wouldn't score.
Though the batting order seemed odd to him, it didn't stop him from focusing.
His eyes locked ahead like a goat's stare, he raised one leg, coiled his arm, tensed his muscles, and released the ball.
The white ball flew in a unique horizontal motion, slicing through the air.
Noda Yusei chose not to swing.
Thud! The ball landed heavily in the catcher's mitt.
The big screen displayed the pitch speed: 154 km/h.
"One strike."
The umpire behind the catcher signaled it was a valid strike.
"These high schoolers at Koshien are monsters."
"How many pitchers have we seen now over 150 km/h?"
Ichiro Suzuki couldn't help but complain.
"That's considered fast?"
Sakurajima Mai, commentating on baseball for the first time, didn't understand what a 150 km/h pitch meant.
She was used to Takashi's 166 km/h pitches—compared to that, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's speed felt slow.
Ichiro Suzuki looked at her speechlessly.
He felt like Sakurajima Mai had been spoiled by Takashi's pitching, to the point where everyone else now felt average to her.
As if everyone could pitch like Takashi.
His velocity wasn't something high schoolers were meant to catch.
"A pitcher like Ayanokoji could hold his own in the pros—probably land a contract worth 70 to 85 million yen."
Shohei Ohtani explained in the simplest terms.
"That's... that good?"
Sakurajima Mai almost blurted out, 'Even that can earn you 70 million?'
The average salary for Japanese actors was around 25 million yen.
Even as a top-tier celebrity, Sakurajima Mai had just broken the 200 million yen mark last year.
"What about Kitahara-kun?"
Suddenly curious, she asked how much Takashi would earn if he went pro.
"Online rumors say 890 million? Is that real?"
"That's fake."
This time, both Shohei Ohtani and Ichiro Suzuki replied in unison.
"I thought so too."
Sakurajima Mai suddenly felt much more at peace.
Having worked tirelessly in showbiz since childhood like an ox, it would've crushed her if Takashi had out-earned her so easily.
Shohei Ohtani chuckled, "No way it's that little."
Sakurajima Mai: "???"
Little?
Ichiro Suzuki nodded in full agreement. "890 million yen for Takashi? That'd be daylight robbery."
Daylight robbery?
If 890 million was robbery, then what was all her years of hard work worth?
Did her effort count for nothing?
"Mai, you don't understand what it means for a 16-year-old to pitch at 166 km/h."
Ichiro Suzuki wagged a finger.
"If Takashi maintains that level, he'd be like Lamine Yamal in soccer. If he went to MLB, his annual salary wouldn't be less than 30 million dollars."
"..."
Sakurajima Mai suddenly wanted to mute herself and find a quiet place to reflect.
Hearing Takashi's potential salary, she felt like a university graduate returning home with a respectable job only to find a high school dropout had struck it rich flipping handkerchiefs on the street.
…
"Strike two!"
Noda Yusei swung and missed again. He wasn't disappointed, though—his eyes still burned with fighting spirit as he locked onto Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.
A cutter. Fast velocity. But hittable.
He had already seen through Ayanokoji's pitch type, speed, and trajectory. He was sure to hit the next one.
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka lifted his leg, swung his arm—white ball flew straight toward Noda Yusei.
Now!!!
Noda Yusei's eyes lit up as he swung with full force. Crack! The baseball shot out like a meteor.
Run!
He tossed the bat and sprinted toward first base.
But halfway there, he stopped in shock.
Because, to his disbelief, Koenji Rokosuke had sprinted ahead of time, leapt into the air, and caught the ball before it touched the ground.
"Out!"
The umpire signaled Noda Yusei was out.
"You're kidding me! That speed—he's a monster!"
Noda Yusei walked off the field in disbelief.
The ball hadn't flown toward the shortstop—it had gone to right field.
Amatani Kensuke's plan had been to target right field as much as possible.
Right field was guarded by Yamada Albert, a tall and muscular Black player.
He had outstanding athleticism, but his size also meant high energy consumption.
Studies show larger bodies require more energy for movement, making intense sports more exhausting.
It's a common issue for tall athletes.
Amatani Kensuke wanted to wear out the opposing team's stamina in the first five innings for a late-game push.
But no one expected Koenji Rokosuke to sprint all the way from his position to right field and catch the ball mid-air.
That kind of explosive athleticism could only be described as monstrous.
Koenji Rokosuke casually tossed the ball in his hand, then suddenly swung his right arm back and hurled the ball hard into the catcher's mitt.
"Beep!"
The big screen displayed: 157 km/h.
Gasps echoed throughout the stadium.
"Another 157!"
"How do you even play if Takashi isn't on the field?"
"Two pitchers with over 150 km/h on one high school team—am I even watching a high school game?"
"Amatani, hurry up and let Takashi pitch!"
After that pitch, Koenji Rokosuke looked toward the bullpen with a hint of provocation in his eyes, locking onto the seated Takashi.
Takashi's anger flared, and he shot to his feet.
"Kitahara, sit down!"
He ignored the command and stepped out to warm up.
"Kitahara, I said SIT DOWN! Did you hear me?!"
Amatani Kensuke stood and shouted at him.
"I'm the coach. I order you to sit down—did you hear me?!"
"You'll regret this."
Takashi, seemingly at the limit of his anger, picked up a case of mineral water and slammed it to the ground.
They're putting on quite a convincing show.
If he hadn't known they were acting, Horikita Manabu might've believed it.
But he didn't bother watching Takashi and Amatani's performance. Instead, he turned to look at Koenji Rokosuke.
Realizing Takashi wouldn't play, Koenji instantly lost interest and slumped into laziness.
As expected.
Horikita Manabu sighed.
Koenji Rokosuke was a true genius—very powerful. But getting him to take things seriously was incredibly difficult.
He always did things his own way, and no one could control him.
But why had he come this time?
Yozakura Hitomi, is this really the man you're interested in?
Koenji Rokosuke was a little disappointed in Takashi.
He had joined this Koshien tournament solely to compete against the man Hitomi had praised.
___
20 Advanced Chapters available on p@ tr eon (.) com/HalflingFics
Also, please point out my mistakes in the comment, thank you!
Don't forget to leave a review too~
Check out the other translations too
___