Top of the sixth inning — Seibō High School's offense.
Two outs, no one on base.
The ninth batter of Seibō High School stepped into the batter's box. Even after being mentally crushed by Zhou Hao's Straight Ball and Spiral Ball, the Seibō players still hadn't given up. As long as Seidou's Ace wasn't made of iron, he would eventually break. And once Zhou Hao collapsed, their chance to counterattack would finally come.
Their plan had been going smoothly—until Zhou Hao decided to use the Fishing Pitch again.
The Seibō players were so furious their teeth were grinding.
They could endure the Straight Ball. At least those pitches tired Zhou Hao out. If the game dragged on long enough, even the strongest Ace would reach his limit.
But this?
A Fishing Pitch requiring almost no stamina?
It was infuriating.
Their lower-order batters clearly understood Zhou Hao's intention, and logically should not have fallen for it. But the moment they stepped into the box and saw that floating pitch, it was like poppy-opium for batters—irresistible. And now, even if they tried to fix their mentality, it was already too late.
The ninth batter glared at Zhou Hao as though accusing him of a crime. His expression screamed:
"No matter what you throw, I'm not swinging."
Zhou Hao lifted his leg and released the first pitch.
Swoosh!
A plain, ordinary Straight Ball.
The Seibō batter's lips twitched in anger. This guy… is he looking down on me!?
Thwack!
"Strike!"
The scoreboard lit up: 137 km/h.
The Seidou supporters nearly had a heart attack.
"That scared me!"
"If he swung, that might've been a home run…"
"Good thing the batter didn't swing!"
Even the Seidou players felt their scalps tighten. One mistake at this stage could turn the entire game upside down.
The Seibō batter, however, had the opposite reaction.
He glared at Zhou Hao… then at Chris.
Chris simply smiled, nodding—as if saying:
"We know you won't swing. Thanks for the free warm-up."
The batter's grip tightened until veins bulged. That look from Chris felt like the ultimate humiliation.
Zhou Hao threw the second pitch.
This time, the batter swung.
Ping!
The ball shot into the air—
—and was caught easily by the outfielder, who had already anticipated the landing point.
Thwack!
"Out!"
Zhou Hao's last pitch clocked at 145 km/h.
The fans erupted.
"He changes velocity like breathing!"
"He uses the Fishing Pitch even better than the real thing!"
"He predicted the swing again!"
"Incredible!!"
A reporter shook his head in disbelief.
"Four pitches. Three outs. Again."
Would Zhou Hao run out of stamina later?
He didn't dare make predictions.
But up to this moment, Zhou Hao's pitch rhythm was flawless. If the game were slower-paced, Zhou Hao could likely pitch not just nine innings—but eleven.
Bottom of the sixth — Seidou's offense
First up: the mustached Isashiki Jun.
Aggressive as always, he swung at the first pitch Shirasawa threw.
Ping!
High fly ball—caught.
"Out!"
Seibō supporters immediately puffed out their chests.
"See? It's not just your Ace. Our Ace can throw Fishing Pitches too!"
"Shirasawa is just as good!"
Next batter: the ninth.
Same result.
Ping!
Grounder.
Out!
Two outs. No one on base.
The lineup turned over.
The first batter, Matsumoto, stepped into the batter's box for his third appearance of the game.
The crowd shivered.
"Only in the sixth inning… and it took this long to reach the third round!?"
This showed just how terrifying Shirasawa's pitching rhythm was.
Matsumoto assumed a full bunt stance—no hesitation. A message of desperation.
Shirasawa didn't waver. He threw the pitch calmly.
Swoosh!
Matsumoto pulled back the bat—then swung again.
Ping!
His face froze the moment the bat connected.
The bounce was too weak.
Thwack!
Thrown to first.
Out!
Side retired.
Both Aces stood on equal ground—dominating completely.
Top of the seventh — Seibō's offense
Now the third round for their lineup as well.
And yet… still zero hits.
Reporters began whispering.
"If Seibō doesn't score soon, they won't score at all."
"They're hoping for extra innings."
"But Seidou at least can score with luck. Seibō can't even get a hit…"
The first batter crouched low, determined to hit no matter what.
Zhou Hao threw his pitch.
BOOM!
A white beam shot past.
"152.5 km/h!!!"
The stadium erupted.
Even Seibō's Ace, Shirasawa—the creator of the Speed of Light Pitch—froze, pupils dilating.
Zhou Hao wasn't imitating the gifted pitch.
He was surpassing it.
Their Coach sighed bitterly.
"Someone may beat this kid someday… but not today."
"As long as our stamina holds, we can still last. We can't give up a single run."
Zhou Hao continued.
Strike.
Strike.
Strikeout.
All pitches above 150 km/h.
Even Chris clicked his tongue softly.
"Too much. Calm down."
But Zhou Hao couldn't.
Because the moment that pitch crossed the plate…
[Ding! Congratulations, Host! Task "Zetsu" has been triggered!]