In the stands of Koshien Stadium, everyone looked utterly stunned.
152 kilometers per hour?
The pitch Zhou Hao threw just now actually reached that speed?
Inside Seidou High School's dugout, the players froze for a moment—only to snap back to reality in an instant.
Then they erupted.
"I knew it! I knew it would turn out like this!"
"Zhou Hao! Zhou Hao—!!"
Some were so excited they couldn't even form coherent sentences.
When Zhou Hao first displayed a 150 km/h fastball, even they thought it might've been a fluke.
A pitcher's fastest-ever throw and his actual stable velocity were two very different things.
They wondered whether it was just a momentary burst—
A one-time phenomenon.
But now?
All doubts vanished.
This wasn't a lucky throw.
This was Zhou Hao mastering 150 km/h pitching.
The players and supporters of Seibō High could only stare in disbelief.
They gaped at the young man on the mound, faces frozen, completely stiff.
Meanwhile, Seidou's supporters didn't care at all about how the opposing team felt.
From their point of view, Zhou Hao's performance was simply overwhelming. Their only job now was to cheer for their Ace.
"That's unbelievable!!!"
They stood up and burst into applause.
Seibō High's coach, on the other hand, took a long time to recover from the shock.
He had actually anticipated this possibility.
Zhou Hao's strength had increased game by game, step by step.
Anyone who paid serious attention to him would have noticed this.
Even Zhou Hao's imitation of the Speed of Light Beam pitch was something he had mentally prepared himself for.
But what he never expected—
Zhou Hao's pitch would actually surpass their own Ace's Speed of Light Beam.
Their Ace's fastest pitch was 148 km/h.
Not 149.
And definitely nowhere near 150.
But Zhou Hao?
He threw an ultra-fast 152 km/h heater.
What did this mean?
It didn't need explaining.
Whether he admitted it or not, Zhou Hao had surpassed their Ace in this aspect.
"The student surpasses the master"…
Is this what that phrase refers to?
What hurt even more—
Zhou Hao's straight fastball used to peak at 148 km/h.
Yet by using the Speed of Light Beam, he increased his velocity to 152?
He wasn't just throwing a cheap imitation.
It was the genuine article.
"First-year… fifteen years old… no baseball experience before high school…"
Thinking about the intel he had gathered on Zhou Hao, the Seibō coach felt a sense of despair.
Were they really being forced into such a situation by a complete baseball rookie?
Bottom of the Fifth – Seidou on Offense
Leading off was Seidou's fifth batter—Shimoi Teru.
As soon as he entered the batter's box, Shirasawa, standing on the mound, gave a slight smile and released his pitch.
Whoosh!
Like a streak of light, the baseball shot past Shimoi's eyes.
He froze.
He couldn't swing at all—he could only watch the ball zoom by.
Thwack!
"Strike!"
Shirasawa didn't pause.
The next pitch came immediately.
From Shimoi Teru's perspective, it looked identical to the previous one.
He didn't hesitate. He swung.
Ping!
The bat barely brushed the ball, sending it rolling weakly seven or eight meters forward.
Shirasawa rushed forward, scooped it up, and threw it to first.
Thwack!
"Out!"
One out, bases empty.
Next was Seidou's sixth batter—Chris.
The half-blood catcher stood tall, looking calm and dignified.
In the crowd, the cheers for him—especially from the girls—were as enthusiastic as ever.
Seibō's players were used to it; they had seen it back in their previous matchup.
Chris was strong, and his popularity was nothing to scoff at.
But Shirasawa continued his assault.
Another Speed of Light Beam.
Whoosh!
Chris's eyes widened slightly.
He didn't expect that after Zhou Hao imitated Seibō's signature pitch, Shirasawa would still boldly throw it.
Even if it wasn't as fast as Zhou Hao's, even if it was a few kilometers slower…
His presence and execution were unmistakable.
Even Seidou's players watching from the dugout felt pressure.
Let alone the batter himself.
Chris's mind went blank for an instant.
When the next pitch approached, he could only grit his teeth and swing.
Ping!
The ball flew 30–40 meters into shallow outfield.
Seibō's shortstop backpedaled steadily and caught it.
Thwack!
"Out!"
Two outs, bases empty.
Neutral spectators couldn't help commenting:
"Honestly… I thought Zhou Hao had completely taken control."
"But this Seibō Ace is no joke either."
"Yeah. His pitching is definitely on par."
It wasn't the most analytical comment, but it reflected the atmosphere clearly—
Shirasawa's performance was not inferior to Zhou Hao's.
For Seibō, this was the key.
As long as they could maintain this level…
They could fight Seidou on even ground.
Then came Seidou's seventh batter—Yoshida.
He desperately wanted to get on base to relieve some pressure for Zhou Hao.
But Shirasawa's pitching was simply too strong.
"Strike!"
"Strike!"
"Strikeout!"
Three pitches. Three strikes.
Side retired.
The bottom of the Fifth ended with the score still 0–0.
It should've been boring.
But no one in the stadium even dared blink.
That's how intense the game was.
The atmosphere was heavy.
They had thought that with Zhou Hao breaking into 150 km/h territory, victory—while maybe not effortless—should be solidly within reach.
But reality said otherwise.
Seibō wasn't backing down.
And their Ace, Shirasawa, was an opponent they couldn't underestimate.
He already revealed a third breaking ball…
Yet outside of Zhou Hao's hit, Shirasawa had shown no weaknesses.
Even Yuki and Azuma Kiyokuni might struggle on their third at-bat.
Having already tasted defeat against Seisho High in the past, the worry resurfaced—
What if Seibō loaded the bases?
With Shirasawa pitching like this, the entire dugout felt a deep sense of unease.
And not just any unease—
A heavy, creeping dread.
This game might drag on for a very long time.
If it turned into a stamina battle…
Would they still win?
Zhou Hao's stamina had improved drastically, yes.
But compared to seasoned third-year pitchers, he was still a first-year boy.
No one could deny that.
Top of the Sixth – Seibō on Offense
Their seventh batter walked to the plate confidently—chin raised high.
They still couldn't figure out how to hit Zhou Hao.
But unlike before…
They now saw a path to victory.
They couldn't beat Zhou Hao's pitching.
But they could drag the game out.
Force the rookie to run out of stamina.
Yes, it was cheap. Yes, it was ugly.
But this was the Koshien finals.
Only one thing mattered—
Winning.
Zhou Hao delivered his pitch.
This time, the ball was slow—almost lazy—and right over the plate.
The seventh batter's eyes widened.
This was a trap.
He knew it was a trap.
He didn't want to swing.
He tried to hold himself back.
But in the end…
A pitch right down the middle?
Even if it was a trap, a power hitter like him couldn't ignore it.
He swung with everything he had.
Ping!
He barely grazed the ball.
It dribbled forward twelve or thirteen meters.
Thwack!
Zhou Hao fielded it cleanly and threw to first.
"Out!"
One out.
Seibō's crowd groaned.
They expected a bad result, but not one this miserable.
"Why did you swing?!"
The seventh batter clenched his teeth.
How could he not swing at a perfect strike?
Even if he lost the gamble, at least he wouldn't regret it.
Next came the eighth batter.
He also couldn't resist swinging at the first pitch.
The ball flew high.
Shimoi Teru waited under it, glove open.
Thwack!
"Out!"
Two outs.
Two pitches.
The crowd was speechless.
"His rhythm… it's perfect."
"Seibō wants to tire him out, but Zhou Hao's using it against them?"
"One tiny mistake and the ball would fly far…"
"He's too gutsy!"
"Great daring comes from great skill! He knows he can control those pitches."
More importantly—
He knew his opponents' mentality perfectly.
Then Zhou Hao threw his third pitch.
The batter now was—
Seibō High's ninth hitter.