Yamamoto showcased his extraordinary pitching ability.
Even Isajiki Jun, who had clearly analyzed his strengths and weaknesses, was struck out with a single pitch.
The players from Seiko Academy were fired up.
Even though they knew their chances were slim, they couldn't help but applaud and cheer for Yamamoto's outstanding pitch.
It felt amazing.
Win or lose, they were thrilled just to see the Seidou High School baseball team being pushed.
As the game progressed, it even felt like they had a real shot at pulling off an upset.
"Three up, three down!"
Three outs. Change of sides.
The game entered the top of the fourth inning, with Seiko Academy on the offensive.
Their batters were fired up.
With the pitchers doing so well, the batters couldn't allow themselves to fall behind.
"We need at least one run! We can't let that freshman from Seidou get too cocky!"
Zhou Hao's performance had earned widespread praise within the Seidou team.
At the same time, Seiko Academy—their rival—naturally held some resentment toward him.
Their sixth batter stepped into the box.
He was a lower-middle order hitter, but physically imposing.
Standing in the batter's box, his presence was overwhelming.
Chris, Seidou's reliable catcher, squatted down behind the plate, observing the batter carefully.
The signal he gave Zhou Hao was short and direct:
Be careful.
Apart from their core players, the rest of Seiko Academy's lineup was full of muscular brutes forged under their strict training regimen.
These guys weren't particularly refined in their technique, but once they made contact, the ball would fly.
Right now, everyone was hyped over Zhou Hao's performance—but they were ignoring one critical point.
Seiko Academy, despite being the underdog, had already created several miracles.
In this game alone, they had hit five home runs—albeit all solo shots with no runners on base.
That alone was impressive.
Even among the top three powerhouses in West Tokyo, such a feat was rare.
Only Seiko Academy could pull it off.
In this regard, even Seidou High School had fallen behind.
Zhou Hao stood on the mound and nodded seriously.
He fully understood Chris's warning, and he didn't underestimate Seiko Academy's hitters in the slightest.
But that didn't mean he would change his approach.
Zhou Hao wound up and released the pitch without hesitation.
"Boom!"
The white baseball screamed toward the plate like a missile.
Zhou Hao had thrown spiral balls like this countless times.
Originally, he had hoped his spiral pitch would evolve—just like his Sharingan.
The more he used it, the better he became, and the more potential it should unlock.
Yet strangely, the pitch hadn't leveled up.
Even so, Zhou Hao had become more and more proficient at using it. Its power had grown naturally with his control and rhythm.
The Seiko Academy batter had no idea what hit him.
From his perspective, it felt like the entire world was caving in on him.
Before he could even react, the ball was already past him.
"Bang!"
"Strike!"
"Strike two!!"
"Strike three!!!"
"Strikeout!"
Chris let out a wry smile from behind the plate.
It looked like he had worried for nothing.
Zhou Hao didn't need anyone to step in or cover for him.
He was fully capable of taking care of everything on his own.
His performance on the mound had been flawless.
"Strikeout!"
Two straight strikeouts.
Two outs. No runners on base.
Up next was Seiko Academy's eighth batter.
As he walked into the batter's box, the Seidou team recognized him immediately.
Yamamoto.
He stood over 190 cm tall and weighed more than 120 kg.
Just standing there, Yamamoto looked like a mountain.
Even before swinging his bat, his sheer size was enough to intimidate any pitcher.
Chris crouched behind the plate, his body completely engulfed in Yamamoto's shadow.
"This guy's no slouch…"
Chris debated whether to warn Zhou Hao again.
But in the end, he held back.
Despite being a freshman, Zhou Hao didn't put in much extra practice. He simply completed the regular training.
And yet, in official games, he never gave them any cause for concern.
He was the first one to spot Yamamoto's weakness in a previous game and hit a pitch none of the seniors could touch.
So now, it was only right to trust in Zhou Hao again.
Let's go!
Seeing Chris's signal, Zhou Hao nodded slightly.
He stepped forward, coiled like a spring, and unleashed his pitch.
"Boom!"
The powerful fastball zipped toward the plate.
Yamamoto felt a jolt in his chest.
Watching from the dugout had given him a vague sense of how terrifying Zhou Hao's pitches were.
But now, standing in the box, it hit him like a truck.
No wonder his teammates had been completely helpless.
Their swings were powerful, but lacked precision—making it nearly impossible to hit a pitch like this.
"But I'm not like them!"
Though Yamamoto was built like a tank, he had a finesse and clarity that most of his teammates lacked.
That was his natural gift.
Staring down Zhou Hao's pitch, he didn't flinch.
He calmly waited for his moment—and swung.
"Ping!"
The bat connected—but Yamamoto's expression instantly twisted.
A terrifying shockwave surged through his arms.
The force was so powerful, it felt like the bat might fly out of his hands.
Yamamoto gritted his teeth and held on.
But the ball was no longer under his control.
It soared just past the mound—and dropped straight into Zhou Hao's glove.
"Bang!"
"Out!"
Three outs. Change of innings.
Zhou Hao stood tall on the mound, his form immaculate.
Some of Seidou's supporters couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"You think just making contact is enough to beat Zhou Hao? That's only step one—"
To hit Zhou Hao's pitch, it takes more than power.
You need timing, technique, and extraordinary judgment.
Yamamoto had potential—but "potential" wasn't enough.
He wasn't yet worthy of hitting Zhou Hao's spiral ball.
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POWER STONE!!!
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