Two outs. No one on base.
Though Seidou's supporters groaned with regret, none were truly surprised.
For today's game, Zhou Hao's performance had already been nothing short of flawless. Asking him for more would be unreasonable—selfish, even. Most players go their entire careers without ever hitting a home run. Could anyone demand that Zhou Hao do what others couldn't, simply because they wished it?
No. He had already exceeded expectations.
The Koshien scoreboard lit up: 153 km/h.
Even now, Osaka Kiryu's pitcher could summon such heat. Most batters, standing at the plate against a pitch like that, would only feel despair.
How could anyone demand Zhou Hao turn the impossible into routine?
Still, one truth weighed heavily on every Seidou player's heart: the road ahead was steep.
The next batter stepped up. Yuki Tetsuya.
He had already delivered twice this game, driving Seidou's offense forward with critical hits. Though he hadn't tallied RBIs, his presence had been indispensable.
Now, with two outs and the bases empty, every ounce of hope shifted to him.
Yuki swung decisively.
Ping!
The ball skipped along the dirt, snagged swiftly by Osaka Kiryu's fielder.
Pop!
The throw to first landed just ahead of Yuki's desperate sprint.
Pop!
"Out!"
Three outs. Change sides.
Even Yuki had been silenced.
For Seidou's supporters, it was like being struck breathless. The weight of failure pressed down on them, tightening their throats. Their two pillars—Yuki and Azuma Kiyokuni—both separated from success.
If even they faltered, who could they rely on?
Top of the seventh inning. Osaka Kiryu back on offense.
They knew scoring off Zhou Hao now would be near impossible. But morale remained high.
They were leading by one run.
As long as they protected that lead, victory was theirs. Every swing at bat was a bonus.
Their eyes gleamed like a pack of wolves—hungry, confident, merciless.
Chris adjusted his mask, turning to Zhou Hao.
"How do you plan to pitch the rest of the way?"
"If I keep using the Spiral Ball," Zhou Hao admitted, "I'll only last until the ninth."
Chris frowned. "If this game goes into extra innings—"
Zhou Hao shook his head. "Then it's over anyway."
He knew the truth. Whether it was high-level breaking balls, his Spiral Ball, or even his Sharingan-inspired techniques, all of them drained his stamina. Even straight balls would run his tank dry before long.
There was no retreat. The bridge behind him was already burned.
If Seidou couldn't turn the game around within nine innings, it was finished.
Chris studied Zhou Hao carefully, then gave a sharp nod.
"Alright."
Catching Zhou Hao's Spiral Ball put immense strain on him, but he had no choice. If his pitcher was going all out, then as his partner, he had to match him.
Osaka Kiryu's fifth batter strode to the plate.
Originally Kan Hiromi's spot in the order, it had now been filled. Osaka Kiryu wasn't thinking about pitching anymore—their entire focus was on offense and defense.
The new batter was tall, with sharp canine teeth that stood out when he sneered.
A fan recognized him instantly.
"Tian Mu! Even a slugger like him is just a substitute on the Universe Team? Unreal…"
His reputation preceded him. Yet ten seconds later, he would begin to doubt if everything he knew about baseball was a lie.
From the mound, Zhou Hao hardly looked intimidating. He wasn't a hulking ace with bulging muscles—he appeared almost delicate compared to the powerhouse pitchers Tian Mu had faced before.
"This is the guy who crushed our core hitters?" Tian Mu thought with disdain.
Then Zhou Hao lifted his leg.
In that instant, the air grew heavy. Tian Mu's instincts screamed—this was no ordinary pitch.
It's coming.
The Spiral Ball.
Zhou Hao drove forward. His arm blurred, releasing the ball with a violent whip.
Boom!!
The sound tore through the stadium as the pitch streaked across the plate.
For a heartbeat, Tian Mu felt as though he were staring down a natural disaster. His body refused to move.
Thud!
"Strike!!"
The Level 3 Spiral Ball detonated past his bat.
The Osaka Kiryu dugout froze, the blood in their veins running cold.
If there had been doubts before, they were gone now. None of them could hit this pitch.
Tian Mu wasn't some disposable benchwarmer—he ranked third on their team in pure batting strength, behind only Sato and Kuroda. Under different circumstances, he could have been Osaka Kiryu's cleanup hitter.
But now, even he stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief.
It wasn't an illusion. Zhou Hao's Spiral Ball had evolved—leveled up during the game itself.
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