"It went through!"
Takumi successfully reached first base, securing his team's first effective hit.
Though it was just an ordinary hit, it held extraordinary significance for him.
After all, this was a crucial assessment, and getting a hit at this moment meant more than any hit he had made before.
More importantly, he had inadvertently upgraded his Sharingan to level two.
A level two Sharingan not only allowed him to clearly observe everything around him and slow down dynamic movements,
But, more significantly, it enabled him to replicate other people's movements.
Though after replication, he could only replay them in his mind—
he couldn't directly use them yet.
But as long as he had a clear impression in his mind and put in the effort to practice, he had a very good chance of mastering his opponent's special techniques.
For example, Midori's spiral pitch.
The seemingly stiff, bulky pitcher actually rotated his wrist during his pitching motion,
adding extra spin to the baseball throughout the process.
Takumi replicated this pitch in his mind.
Of course, replication was one thing; actually using it on the field was another.
Moreover, their physical conditions differed—height, weight, and hand size were all distinct.
Because of these differences, the effect of the ball when thrown from their hands would also vary greatly.
Even so, he was thrilled.
Previously, when trying to improve his skills, relying solely on his own efforts had been almost futile.
He could only hope that his unpredictable system would reward him again—
just as it had with the Sharingan.
But now it was different; the level two Sharingan could replicate all movements.
When these movements were replayed in his mind, practicing them yielded twice the results with half the effort.
One day of his diligent training was equivalent to a week or even a month of someone else's hard work.
Even with a weak foundation, such a bonus would accelerate his strength rapidly.
Even if Coach Kataoka didn't select him this time, he believed it wouldn't be long before he joined the First String.
After all, he had just hit the ball solidly.
Why wouldn't Coach Kataoka value him?
In fact, the coach's gaze toward him had already changed.
To Kataoka Tesshin, this young man was nothing less than an unmined treasure.
No exaggeration—an unmined treasure.
As the coach of a powerhouse team, his vision was razor-sharp.
He clearly saw Takumi's lack of training.
Yet, despite that, he still shone brilliantly on the field.
Once his physical condition caught up, even if he didn't possess Yūki Tetsuya's natural talent and only reached the average level of Seidō's First String,
he would become a dazzling star on the field.
"This young man's future is limitless," Kataoka Tesshin murmured thoughtfully.
He felt an urge to promote Takumi to the First String immediately.
However, Seidō's First String didn't seem to lack strong batters at the moment.
As one of the teams boasting the strongest hitting ability in Tokyo—and even the entire country—their First String was packed with skilled hitters.
Promoting him solely for that reason would be unfair to the second- and third-year players.
No matter how talented he was, at this stage his hitting still fell short of those upperclassmen.
"If only he were a pitcher," Tesshin sighed quietly.
Unlike their excellent batters, pitching had always been Seidō's weakness.
Their current ace was barely dependable.
Their pitcher, Tanba Kōichirō, had various issues.
As he pondered this, the game went on.
Seidō's second batter selflessly laid down a bunt.
Ping!
The player who laid down the bunt was naturally out, but fortunately, his objective was achieved. Takumi decisively took off running.
Though his speed was a bit slow, he finally reached second base.
One out, runner on second.
Once Seidō's offense connected, it flowed like a surging river—continuous and unstoppable.
The Nanamori players sensed the pressure building. At that critical moment, their coach barked a firm command.
"Focus on the batter. Don't worry about the runner."
That bulky pitcher wasn't just inflexible in movement; his mindset was average as well.
Hearing his coach's words, he focused entirely on dueling the batter, completely ignoring Takumi.
Boom!
Seidō's third batter today was their Second String's original cleanup hitter.
His hitting ability had long been recognized as the best in the Second String.
However, facing Midori, even with a gritted-teeth swing, he could barely make contact, unable to control where the ball landed.
Ping!
The ball flew out, only to be quickly caught by a Nanamori fielder.
Snap!
"Out!"
Two outs, runner on second.
Only then did the Nanamori players finally release a collective breath of relief.
Though the process had been far from perfect, the outcome remained within their acceptable limits.
"Just like this, let's take them down in one go!" one urged with determination.
Even if they conceded a hit, as long as they secured this third out,
their first-inning battle wouldn't be a loss.
"Alright!" Midori's voice came out muffled, a sharp contrast to his commanding tone while pitching.
The ball in his hand felt like a cannonball, and he himself seemed like a cannon ready to fire it.
Boom!
Step, swing.
As the ball left his hand, everyone present tensed, overwhelmed by the sheer force behind it.
He was a towering mountain of flesh.
"This guy must weigh at least 300 pounds!" someone exclaimed in awe.
Given Midori's towering height and bulky frame, it was only natural for the Seidō players to think so.
But just as everyone was pondering this, the fourth batter at the plate suddenly moved.
This batter, usually overlooked in Seidō's First String, now towered like a mountain.
Facing Midori—the mountain of flesh—he didn't flinch; instead, he met him head-on.
Swoosh!
The bat swung, slicing through the air with a loud whoosh.
Then, the bat solidly connected with the ball.
That same ball that had flustered Takumi, forcing him to rely on cunning just to make contact.
That same ball that had made Seidō's Second String cleanup hitter bow his head in despair.
In Kadota Masaaki's hands, it was like a toy, effortlessly swept away.
Whoosh!
Everyone stared as the ball soared across most of the field, finally settling deep in the outfield.
The Nanamori players, confident in their ace, had positioned their defense aggressively.
This left them no time to retreat and react.
"Run!" Kadota Masaaki shouted urgently.
Seeing the ball land, Takumi, stationed on second base, instantly bolted toward third.