"Why would Seidou High School send up a first-year rookie?"
As one of the nation's top powerhouses, that decision baffled everyone—reporters, commentators, and fans alike.
Surely, Seidou had powerful pinch hitters hidden on the bench.
Just like Osaka Kiryu High School, the "Universe Team," who had already sent two skilled pinch hitters into the game—both renowned for their explosive batting power, even if they were lacking in other areas.
Each time they stepped into the box, they brought with them the faint glow of hope.
So why didn't Seidou do the same?
Several burly upperclassmen sat on Seidou's bench—physically imposing, clearly capable hitters.
If any of them stepped up, there was at least a chance they could send the ball flying.
But instead, Seidou sent a first-year rookie.
"I don't get it!"
"Could it be that no one on Seidou's bench feels confident enough to hit Kuroda's fastball?"
Even the reporters who had been rooting for Seidou found the decision incomprehensible.
Up until now, Seidou's performance had been near-perfect. If they could defeat Osaka Kiryu—the strongest team in Japan—it would be headline news.
"Of course that's not it!" someone protested.
"Then why send in a rookie?"
"Because the ones who can hit Kuroda's high-speed pitches are already on base—and the rest simply can't."
At third base: Zhou Hao.
At second: Yuki Tetsuya.
At first: Azuma Kiyokuni.
Together, they were Seidou's true core.
The strength of that trio rivaled, if not surpassed, Osaka Kiryu's heart of the lineup.
But beyond them, the gap was obvious. Once Osaka Kiryu adopted their intentional walk strategy, Seidou's offense was smothered.
And now, their final hope was a rookie—Miyuki Kazuya.
No one could guess what Seidou was planning.
No matter how talented Miyuki was rumored to be, could a first-year really stand against Kuroda's monstrous pitch?
"Boom!"
The white ball exploded from Kuroda's hand like a cannon shot.
Miyuki didn't even react.
"Thwack!"
"Strike!!"
One strike.
Zero balls.
The Osaka Kiryu supporters roared in delight.
"Two more pitches! That's all it'll take!"
From their perspective, Miyuki didn't stand a chance.
"Boom!"
The second pitch came screaming through the air.
This time, Miyuki swung—but his bat hadn't even reached the zone before the ball had already hit the catcher's mitt.
"Thwack!"
"Strike two!!"
The count: 0–2.
"Just one more pitch!"
The Osaka Kiryu supporters were ecstatic.
To them, Miyuki looked hopeless—clumsy, overmatched, and far too green for a moment like this.
"The game's over. This victory is ours!"
They were already celebrating.
But inside the batter's box, Miyuki hummed softly under his breath.
"♪ Let's hit a big one, send it flying now… ♪"
It was a simple rhythm, something familiar and grounding.
And just like that, his expression changed completely.
"Boom!"
The third pitch came—
and Miyuki's eyes widened.
Here it is.
He didn't wait. He couldn't.
If he hesitated even a split second, the pitch would already be past him.
He had to swing early—
and he had to guess exactly what was coming.
A straight fastball. Right down the middle.
Kuroda had no choice but to rely on his strength.
He'd burned through his stamina long ago, and maintaining 150 km/h velocity now pushed him past his limit.
He didn't have the control to aim for the corners anymore.
All he could do was fire everything he had left—straight into the zone.
And Miyuki knew it.
"Ping!!"
The bat connected perfectly.
The shock reverberated through Miyuki's hands, nearly tearing the bat from his grip.
He winced.
"I still don't know how Zhou Hao managed to hit this kind of pitch…"
But he didn't have time to wonder.
Because he'd done it too.
The ball traced a glowing arc into the outfield.
Osaka Kiryu's infielders had been playing shallow—anticipating a weak grounder—and now, they couldn't reach it in time.
By the time they retrieved the ball, it was too late.
Zhou Hao was already sprinting across home plate.
"Safe!!"
Seidou ties it! 3–3!
And it wasn't over yet.
Yuki, who had started from second base, was already rounding third.
He saw the ball land and didn't hesitate.
He kept running.
The Osaka Kiryu fielders recovered the ball and fired it home—
"No way!!"
"Swish—!"
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