The top of the first inning ended.
Zhou Hao had struck out three consecutive batters.
The players of Seisho High School's baseball team were deeply shaken.
In the stands, only the cheers of Seidou High School's supporters echoed through the air. Seisho's fans, on the other hand, seemed to have their throats seized—unable to utter a single sound.
Their eyes were vacant.
Sure, the game had just begun, and their opponent was Zhou Hao.
Not getting a hit or scoring in the first inning was nothing unusual.
As one of the top powerhouses in the nation—the third seed of the tournament—Seisho High should have been unfazed by such a start. They'd weathered bigger storms before.
But the problem was that Zhou Hao, standing calmly on the mound, hadn't even used his Spiral Ball once.
In other words, Seidou's ace hadn't shown his true strength yet.
Even so, he had completely overwhelmed Seisho's main lineup—including Akutsu.
If they'd just been retired normally, it wouldn't have been so bad.
But they didn't even touch the ball.
That changed everything. Was Seidou's ace really that much stronger than their entire team?
The difference felt like that between an adult and a child.
The realization sent a chill down the spines of Seisho's supporters. None of them dared imagine what the rest of the game would bring.
In the bottom of the first inning, Seidou came up to bat.
Whether it was the fans in the stands or the players in the dugout, everyone's fighting spirit burned brightly.
Zhou Hao's dominance on the mound had filled the team with confidence.
So what if Seisho was a top national powerhouse—the third seed of the tournament?
Zhou Hao had subdued them with ease.
Now it was time to show them Seidou's offensive power.
The team and its supporters believed wholeheartedly in their lineup—especially in the second batter.
"First batter, Matsumoto!"
Matsumoto, stepping into the batter's box, locked eyes on Akutsu standing on the mound.
Every high school baseball player in Japan knew that name.
If Zhou Hao was the rising star of this Koshien tournament, then Akutsu was the previous generation's star.
Kuroda's fame came from his terrifying 155 km/h fastball—a speed so overwhelming it crushed everything in its path. Because of that, he was hailed as one of the three great star pitchers in high school baseball.
But not even everyone could envy Kuroda's raw, natural talent.
Akutsu's talent wasn't as overwhelming, yet his control and technique allowed him to stand shoulder to shoulder with Kuroda. That alone spoke volumes about his skill.
Many privately believed that the strongest pitcher of their generation wasn't Kuroda—it was Akutsu.
Of course, with Zhou Hao's sudden rise, that title had become more debatable than ever.
But no matter what, Akutsu was the opponent Matsumoto had longed to face.
Every baseball player dreams of standing on the field at Koshien.
For Seidou's players, that dream had taken root long before they ever made it there.
And within that dream, Matsumoto had always pictured himself standing at the plate—facing the best of the best.
His dream scenario was right here: to face Akutsu, the strongest pitcher of his grade, under Koshien's bright lights.
"Thanks to my team, my dream's come true."
Tightening his grip on the bat, Matsumoto focused intently, eyes never leaving Akutsu. His determination to connect with the ball burned hotter than ever.
But just as he took his stance—
Akutsu's expression didn't change.
The moment he raised his arm, the baseball shot from his hand like a white bullet.
"Whoosh!"
The pitch tore through the strike zone in an instant.
Akutsu looked like a cold-blooded killer.
Matsumoto didn't even have time to react before the ball had already passed by.
"Thwack!"
"Strike!"
One pitch, and Matsumoto stood frozen in the batter's box.
So did Seidou's players in the dugout.
"This guy's pitch—"
Azuma Kiyokuni frowned.
With his keen batting intuition, he immediately sensed something strange.
It was nothing like the pitches they'd seen on video before.
He couldn't find the right word to describe it, but Zhou Hao spoke first.
"A bullet ball… but not a normal one."
At that moment, Zhou Hao was already changing into his batting gear.
"How is it different?" Chris asked immediately.
"I can't tell yet. I need to see it from the batter's box," Zhou Hao replied calmly.
Before they could say more, Akutsu wound up again and threw.
"Whoosh!"
The exact same pitch.
Cold sweat trickled down Matsumoto's forehead.
He'd imagined this matchup countless times in his head, but when facing Akutsu in reality, he finally understood why this man was one of the three great star pitchers.
The pitch was simply too fast.
He couldn't find his timing—couldn't even see the rhythm.
Even if he swung with all his might, he wouldn't connect.
"Thwack!"
"Strike!"
"Thwack!"
"Strike!!"
"Strikeout!!!"
One out. No one on base.
The crowd of Seidou supporters fell silent.
They had expected Matsumoto to be retired—his batting wasn't the team's strongest, and Akutsu was a national ace. That much was fine.
But Matsumoto hadn't even touched the ball.
That was terrifying.
For a batter as flexible and disciplined as him to whiff completely—it meant Akutsu's pitching was far more fearsome than they'd imagined.
"Could he be like Kuroda…?" someone murmured.
Just thinking of Osaka Kiryu's ace still gave Seidou's players and fans a collective headache.
A very painful one.
The game went on. The second batter stepped up.
"Second batter, pitcher—Zhou Hao-senpai!"
Seeing Zhou Hao enter the batter's box, Seidou's fans immediately felt steadier—like their anchor had arrived.
Yes, the opponent was strong.
They knew that now better than ever.
But as long as Zhou Hao stood there, even doing nothing, they felt he could blast the ball away at any moment.
That was reputation.
That was presence.
Zhou Hao's very existence carried an aura that inspired belief.
The stadium grew quiet—not from low spirits, but because every eye was locked on the duel unfolding.
Akutsu took a deep breath, his gaze sharpening as it fixed on Zhou Hao.
"Zhou Hao…"
He had watched Seidou's previous match against Ikeda High in person.
Though he hadn't gone there specifically for Seidou, the team had still left a deep impression on him—especially their ace.
Zhou Hao had pitched only a few innings, yet he completely controlled the game's tempo.
Ikeda High had been the strongest dark horse of the season—unpredictable, dangerous. Many powerhouse teams would have fallen to them.
But Seidou didn't just avoid stumbling—they crushed them.
Even Akutsu had wondered then: What if Seisho faced Seidou?
He hadn't expected the answer to come so soon.
"Well… I like learning on the field anyway."
Taking a breath, Akutsu lifted his leg, coiled his body, and unleashed his pitch.
"Whoosh!"
The baseball shot out like a bullet.
Everyone—fans and players alike—held their breath.
They had to admit it.
Akutsu's pitching was truly impressive.
The batter was Zhou Hao.
This showdown was one for the history books.
As the ball flew toward him, Zhou Hao's Sharingan activated.
In his eyes, the pitch slowed dramatically.
He could see the exact trajectory—the spin, the path, even the final landing point.
But he didn't swing.
He simply watched the ball pass him by.
"Thwack!"
"Strike!"
Seisho's fans erupted in cheers.
"Zhou Hao didn't swing!"
"He's scared!"
Their excitement was almost manic.
In the commentary box, Fujio, a veteran reporter from Baseball Kingdom Magazine, glanced at Zhou Hao, a faint look of intrigue in his eyes.
Others didn't understand—but Fujio did.
"They say they're not afraid," he murmured, "but their fear of Zhou Hao has probably peaked."
It was precisely because their fear had reached its limit that they were overreacting to even a single strike.
"Zhou Hao-san… his intimidation factor has reached this level already?"
Even the top-tier sluggers in high school baseball rarely carried such an overwhelming presence in the batter's box.
The name Zhou Hao was destined to become legendary.
Even among seeded national powerhouses, he was viewed differently.
Akutsu, however, didn't relax after that first strike.
In fact, his expression grew even tenser.
For a moment, he'd felt as if that pitch might have been hit—Zhou Hao had just chosen not to swing.
"How can this guy's pressure be so strong…?" Akutsu muttered.
In his next pitch, he decisively changed tactics.
Lifting his leg high, his arm spun like a windmill as the white baseball screamed through the air.
The instant Zhou Hao saw it, his eyes lit up with excitement.
This was it.
A real bullet ball.
The kind of pitch he'd been waiting for.
As the ball came in, Zhou Hao swung decisively.
"Ping!"
The bat connected perfectly—clean timing, perfect angle.
The baseball soared into the sky, drawing a brilliant white arc.
Seidou's supporters leapt to their feet, ready to celebrate.
"That's right! No one can challenge us!"
"We're the strongest!"
They'd hated hearing Seisho's fans brag about Akutsu being the best, but unlike them, Seidou's supporters didn't talk without proof.
Now the results spoke for themselves.
Or so they thought—until the baseball suddenly dropped straight down.
The Seisho outfielder, who had been waiting deep in the outfield, caught it cleanly.
"Thwack!"
"Out!"
Two outs. No one on base.
The entire stadium froze.
What just happened?
Zhou Hao's hit—was caught?
Back in the dugout, Zhou Hao stared at his palm in disbelief.
The impact had been so strong it felt like the web between his fingers had split open.
"How can it be so strong…?"
The pitch speed was only 146 km/h, but the late movement made it feel far faster.
"Third batter, number three—first baseman, Yuki Tetsuya!"
Yuki stepped up next.
"Ping!"
The white baseball rocketed forward like lightning.
Just as it was about to hit the ground and bounce, a shadow flashed across the field.
"Thwack!"
A glove pounded the ball into the dirt.
"He stopped it?!"