When the sixth inning began, Dranred stepped onto the mound — and the stadium erupted.
His first pitch blazed past the batter like a thunderbolt. Strike one.
Another came — perfectly aimed at the corner of the plate. Strike two.
The third — a fiery fastball that left the batter frozen. Strike three.
One after another, all three Mexican batters went down looking. The crowd exploded in cheers, chanting his name. The Fire Ace was back — and this time, he was unstoppable.
From the moment Dranred returned, Mexico couldn't land a single clean hit. Each swing found nothing but air. The mound was his kingdom again.
And as his confidence burned brighter, so did his team's morale. The National Team's energy surged. By the seventh inning, thanks to Nathan's sharp batting and the team's coordination, they scored two runs — tying the game at 3–3.
In the next inning, Mexico tried to recover, but their momentum was gone. Even their cleanup hitter — usually reliable — was stopped cold by a diving catch from the shortstop that sealed another scoreless inning.
Then came the eighth.
Dranred stepped up to the plate — and launched a homerun deep into the audience stands. The stadium thundered. Moments later, Nathan followed with another blast of his own. Two homeruns, back-to-back — the crowd went wild.
By the ninth inning, there was no doubt who owned the field. Dranred struck out all three remaining batters in just nine pitches. Not one of them touched the ball.
The game was over. The National Team had made it to the Finals.
In living rooms and sports bars back home, people cheered as the broadcast replayed the strikeouts in slow motion. Baseball — once overshadowed by boxing and basketball — was suddenly the country's newest pride. For the first time in history, their team was headed to the World Cup Finals.
Across social media, the story was everywhere. The team trended online. Clips of Dranred and Nathan dominated highlight reels. In her latest vlog, Celine Summers reported that both athletes were now being courted by major international teams — though neither had made a decision yet. All eyes would be on them in the Finals.
After the victory, the coach called for a celebration. They had three days before the final match, waiting for the result between America and Japan to determine their next opponent.
"Ms. Summers," the coach said warmly, raising a glass toward Celine during the celebration. "We saw your vlog. Thank you for the amazing coverage of the semi-finals. You've made our team shine brighter."
Celine smiled modestly — but her eyes lingered on Dranred, who stood across the room, laughing with Nathan.
Laughter filled the room, glasses clinking as the team celebrated their hard-won victory.
"There's no denying it," one player said, grinning. "Dranred and Nathan stole the spotlight in your vlog, Miss Summers. They were the stars of the game."
"Well, that's because they were the reason we won," Celine replied. "Nathan held the team together in the first half, and Dranred—" she smiled, glancing toward the quiet pitcher in the corner, "—you were incredible. Those pitches in the second half were explosive. It's my first time seeing the Fire Ace live, and now I understand why everyone's talking about you. You really are a sports genius. You made your name in basketball even when it wasn't your first love, and now you're dominating baseball."
"Sounds like someone just joined his fan club," one of the teammates teased, laughing.
Celine chuckled. "Is that such a bad thing?"
"Not at all," another player said, smirking. "Just don't fall in love with him."
Celine tilted her head. "And why not?"
"He's already taken," the teammate said with a grin. "He's got his Light."
"His… light?" Celine echoed, confused.
"His girlfriend," the player clarified.
"They're not married," Nathan said suddenly, his tone casual as he took a sip of his drink.
Dranred froze, his lips parting slightly as his eyes flicked toward Nathan. A few of the teammates exchanged looks, trying to hold back their laughter.
"Well," Celine said with a mischievous smile, "he's not married yet. Having a crush isn't a crime, is it?"
She stood up and took the empty seat beside Dranred. The team whooped and clapped at her boldness.
"Wow," one of them said, shaking his head. "You've got guts."
"I believe if you want something," Celine said, raising her glass toward Dranred, "you should fight for it. Losing without trying is just pathetic."
She clinked her glass lightly against his before taking a sip, her eyes never leaving his. The room erupted again — laughter, whistles, applause.
The noise died abruptly when the door opened.
"We're here. Sorry we're late — I had to pick—" Charlie's voice trailed off as he stepped inside. He froze mid-sentence, staring at the sight before him: Celine sitting close beside Dranred, their glasses still raised.
And just behind Charlie, standing in the doorway, was Rosette — her expression unreadable, her eyes locked on Dranred.
Dranred froze when he heard his uncle's voice. As he turned toward the door, his breath caught—Rosette stood there. Only then did he realize that Celine, tipsy from too many drinks, had her head resting on his shoulder.
"Rosette!" Nathan exclaimed, rising abruptly from his seat. The chatter in the room fell into uneasy silence.
"Uncle Charlie," Rosette said softly, forcing a faint smile. "I'll head back to the hotel. James is probably waiting. I think… this isn't the right time to be here."
"I'll walk you back," Charlie offered.
"No need," she replied, her tone polite but distant. "This is your team's night. Enjoy the celebration."
She turned and began walking toward the exit.
"Rosette—" Dranred stood quickly, but Celine's hand caught his sleeve, stopping him. He looked down at her.
"You won't mind if I have a crush on you, right?" she murmured, her voice heavy with drink.
"Take care of her," Dranred said to one of his teammates. He gently shifted Celine's head onto the man's shoulder before rushing out after Rosette.
As the door closed behind him, a few of the players exchanged looks.
"Looks like a storm's coming," one of them said, half-laughing.
"Poor Fire Ace," another replied. "If Rosette breaks up with him tonight, he's doomed."
Nathan said nothing, his jaw tightening. He gripped his glass hard enough for his knuckles to pale before downing the rest of the liquor in one gulp.
"He's lucky," someone muttered. "Two beautiful women after him. That's what happens when you're the team's golden boy."
"Lucky?" Nathan's voice was low but sharp. "He can't even take care of the woman he has."
He set the empty glass down with a thud, then walked out of the room without another word.
The rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances.
"Let's just drink," the coach finally said, forcing a chuckle. "Tomorrow, we're back to training. Finals are coming."
The laughter returned, but the tension lingered — heavy, unspoken, hanging in the air long after Dranred and Nathan had gone.