One out. Runner on second. Scoreboard flashing: 5–0.
"Third batter, number 3—first baseman, Yuki Tetsuya."
Kimura's grip tightened.
This was the man who had first solved his Slider. The memory still burned: Yuki's swing, the unraveling that followed, and the avalanche of five runs in a single inning.
Now the situation looked eerily familiar. Runner in scoring position. Pressure mounting. And the runner… was Zhou Hao.
Not a good sign.
Kimura had no choice. Seidō's lineup was too deep, too ruthless. Even if he dodged Yuki, Azuma Kiyokuni and Shimoi lurked behind him. Then Yoshida, then Miyuki. Avoidance wasn't an option.
He had to go straight at the captain.
Whoosh!
The ball blazed to the inside corner.
Yuki didn't hesitate. He whipped the bat, air cracking with the force of his swing.
Ping!
The sound ripped through the stadium. By the time Ichidai's infielders turned, the ball was already skidding past them, bouncing into the outfield.
"It's through!!"
"Too fast—they didn't even react!"
Seidō's supporters roared.
Yuki barreled safely into first. Zhou Hao, already in motion, rounded third and thundered home. The outfielder's desperate throw came a step too late.
"Safe!!"
6–0.
The commentator's voice quivered, unable to stay neutral.
"Seidō extends the lead! A crushing six-run advantage in the second inning!"
He spoke the truth few wanted to hear: Ichidai, proud powerhouse, looked cornered. The only way back was a miracle—a collapse from Seidō or an awakening beyond reason.
"Against Zhou Hao and Yoshida, scoring six or seven consecutive runs? Nearly impossible."
Ichidai's players and supporters bristled at the words, anger surging. The game wasn't over. This was still only the second inning. There were seven more to play.
But frustration couldn't hide the reality. Six runs down, they had been pushed to the brink.
Back in Seidō's dugout, Zhou Hao returned to a calm, confident team. Their lead felt unshakable. With him on the mound, they rarely allowed more than three runs a game. Now, ahead by six, it already looked like Koshien was within reach.
"We're winning this game today!" someone muttered, conviction plain in their voices.
Perhaps spurred by desperation, Ichidai responded. They played loose, almost reckless, and it worked.
Azuma Kiyokuni chased a high fastball—fly out.
Shimoi grounded out weakly on an inside pitch.
Three outs. Changeover.
Seidō's fans stayed composed. The lead was too commanding to shake their belief.
Top of the third inning.
Ichidai's eighth batter strode to the box, bat raised high. No more patience, no more wearing down Zhou Hao. They would attack with everything they had left.
Behind the plate, Miyuki's eyes gleamed as he flashed the sign.
"No more straight balls over the middle. Let's show them the real heat."
Zhou Hao nodded.
Leg raised. Arm fired.
Whoosh!!
The ball exploded forward like a bullet. The batter froze, eyes widening. He hadn't even had time to react.
Thwack!
"Strike!!"
The umpire's call barely cut through the sudden hush. All eyes shifted to the scoreboard.
146 km/h.
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