The white ball arced through the sky and fell heavily into a gap in Inashiro's outfield defense.
Zhang Han threw down his bat and ran.
His job was done. Whether they could score now was up to fate — and to the man coming up behind him.
But Seido's momentum had been perfectly showcased in that confrontation. That much was certain.
"Zhang Han! Zhang Han!!!"
From the stands, led by a cluster of girls, hundreds of fans began chanting his name in unison. They were offering their highest respect. That hit had been too important for Seido to put into words.
In Inashiro's dugout, several players exchanged glances.
He just hit it out like that?
They could barely believe it.
At shortstop, Shirakawa watched Zhang Han round first base and head toward second. He shook his head slowly.
This guy had really changed after entering high school.
Back in Matsukata Little League, Zhang Han had already stood out. But his overall performance had not seemed dramatically different from the other star players in Tokyo. Even within Matsukata, he had not been the most eye-catching one. That distinction had belonged to Hoshida, then Miyakawa, with Zhang Han somewhere behind them.
Yet this same player, who had once been on par with them or even slightly behind, had completely taken off after joining Seido. He became the first of their generation to play at Koshien. He broke two records there. They called him a super rookie, and his momentum had seemed unstoppable.
When Inashiro's players had seen Zhang Han on television, surrounded by that unmistakable glow, most of them had assumed it was luck. That if he hadn't joined Seido, he never would have gotten such an opportunity.
Now it was clear they had been narrow-minded.
They had only seen the glorious surface and missed what was holding it up — not luck, but genuine, formidable strength. It was precisely because Zhang Han possessed that strength that he could break records and become a player people genuinely feared.
No one felt this more acutely than Narumiya Mei.
And it was true. Standing on the mound, Narumiya scrutinized Zhang Han as he settled safely onto second base, as though seeing him for the very first time. On only the second exposure to his fastball, Zhang Han had swung without hesitation and found the hitting point exactly.
This guy is terrifying.
But even as the surprise registered, a quiet thrill stirred beneath it.
This is exactly how it should be. This is what makes it interesting.
Narumiya had been called the strongest pitching ace in the nation at Koshien. If his opponents could not even touch his fastball, he would have been deeply disappointed. It was precisely because opponents this formidable existed that he had a reason to push his new changeup further. Without competition like this, how could he ever break through?
Two outs. Runner on second.
Standing in the batter's box now was Yuuki Tetsuya — Seido's captain, their cleanup hitter, the fourth batter.
Inside Inashiro's dugout, Coach Kunimoto rolled his neck, producing a low creak. He was beginning to understand what Coach Kataoka had been thinking. Kataoka had placed all his hopes of scoring on Zhang Han and Yuuki. If Inashiro simply wanted to win, the safest move right now would be to intentionally walk Yuuki. It would cost an at-bat, but it would minimize Seido's offensive threat to the greatest degree possible.
Sensen, who had faced Seido earlier in the year, had done exactly that.
Kunimoto knew it. But he was not going to allow it.
Simply winning the game would not satisfy the players on this team. Inashiro had lost to Seido in the previous game. If he let his players sidestep this confrontation now, even a victory would leave something hollow behind. Players who could not face difficulty head-on, who chose to escape rather than confront, would not amount to much in the future.
They needed to meet Seido directly, with full force and total resolve — and crush them. Only then could the players truly step out from the shadow of that previous loss.
Confront them head-on.
Even the Director supported it. That was all the players needed. They turned their eyes toward the Seido dugout with barely contained eagerness.
On the mound, Narumiya glanced back at Zhang Han on second base.
Zhang Han was standing there perfectly still, almost comically well-behaved. He even shrugged at Narumiya, as if to say: Don't worry about me. I'll stay right here. This one's between you and Yuuki.
Harada crouched behind the plate and signaled with a quiet gesture.
"Should we use it?"
Narumiya looked warily from Zhang Han to Yuuki. He was not boasting — with the way those two had performed at Koshien, he genuinely was not certain he could handle both of them. A trump card was best saved for the most critical moment. For now, he could still manage without it. Even if he gave up a run here, the two-run lead gave him room. It would not be unbearable.
Harada read his pitcher's expression and gave a small nod. The reasoning was sound. They held a significant advantage, and there was no need to show everything yet. Beyond that, Narumiya's growth during this period had not been limited to the new changeup. His fastball and previously developed breaking balls had also sharpened considerably. Zhang Han had connected with the fastball, yes — but when the breaking balls had come, Zhang Han had not dared to swing either.
They had enough.
Come on. First pitch.
Harada settled into his crouch and readied himself.
Yuuki's stance was the kind that got under your skin. It gave the impression he could handle anything, that he could take whatever pitch came and send it somewhere dangerous. But that, of course, could not actually be true. Once you got past the surface, Yuuki was a normal person. He hurt when he got hit. He got sick when he drank too much. There was nothing mystical about him.
No need to pitch around his stance. Just execute.
"Whoosh!"
Narumiya put everything into an inside pitch — a slider, one of his strongest offerings. He still had a slight psychological shadow from the fastball Zhang Han had connected with, so he chose not to go back to it. A breaking ball first, to find his rhythm.
Harada tracked the ball into his mitt and gave an internal nod.
Good.
Location, angle — nothing to complain about. The speed was a touch below his peak, but not by much. This was a well-executed slider. Even Yuuki should not find it easy to attack.
Just as Harada expected Yuuki to let it pass — Yuuki moved.
"Whoosh!"
The bat came out like a lightning strike from a clear sky, sudden and total. Before anyone could process what was happening, the ball had already been hit clean.
Ping.
The ball streaked through the air like a line drive and punched straight through Inashiro's defense. The second baseman barely had time to turn his head. There was nothing else he could do. He watched the baseball fly past him and could only stand there.
Zhang Han had already broken from second base before Yuuki's bat even made contact. He had complete confidence in his captain. Yuuki was the most prominent presence in Seido — the kind of man who, once he set his mind to something, found a way to do it.
The ball bounced twice before Carlos finally tracked it down and stopped it. By then, Zhang Han had already rounded third and was driving toward home.
Carlos gritted his teeth and launched the throw. The ball cut through dozens of meters of open air and arrived in front of the catcher in a heartbeat.
Harada's eyes flickered with fierce concentration. He caught the ball and spun around, reaching to tag Zhang Han out.
But how could he possibly be in time?
The throw had needed two, maybe three seconds to arrive. By the time the ball reached Harada's mitt, Zhang Han had already touched home plate.
"Seido scores!"
The commentator's voice rang out over the field with barely contained excitement.
This game had been extraordinary from the very first pitch. Both teams had been throwing sparks at each other since the opening inning. Where it went from here, no one dared to predict.
************************************
Upto 50 Chapters In Advance At: P@treon/Vividreader123