Jinguuji, who had performed so heroically before, was retired with almost no resistance against Zhang Han's fastball.
A fastball thrown by a real pitcher approaching 150 kilometers per hour was clearly not that easy to deal with.
Just as Miyauchi was sneering inwardly, Jinguuji, who was standing in front of him, suddenly raised his head.
How could someone who had just been struck out have that kind of expression?
Jinguuji's face was lit up with a bright smile. Looking at Zhang Han, he still had that eager, ready-to-go look, as if he hadn't gotten enough and wanted to keep going.
"Time to leave the field, student."
Only after Miyauchi's sharp rebuke did Jinguuji reluctantly step out of the batter's box.
Coach Kataoka, serving as umpire, had also noticed Jinguuji's expression. He didn't seem discouraged at all. Was it because he still believed he had a chance to put the ball in play?
Either way, Jinguuji's name and face were firmly recorded in Kataoka's memory.
The game continued. The fifth batter's result was the same as his two teammates before him. Struck out.
Facing fastballs approaching 150 kilometers per hour, these first-year players clearly struggled to respond in time. Hitting the ball out was very difficult. In fact, just making contact was incredibly difficult.
Three outs. Change of sides.
The senior team players returned to the dugout without much effort.
Ever since Zhang Han had taken the mound, the game against the freshman team had shifted into easy mode. The senior team, which already held an advantage, now had firm control of the game's rhythm.
Among the freshman team, the available pitchers had basically all taken the mound. And those who had pitched had been hit so hard by the senior team that they couldn't continue. Their trajectories, habits, tendencies, all of it had been thoroughly read by the senior team's hitters. Even with stamina left, continuing would only lead to a brutal result.
Neither Coach Kataoka nor Coach Ochiai would allow that. If the hitting became too severe, some of these players might lose the nerve to stand on a mound again.
Three pitchers had already been dealt with, but Coach Kataoka's face showed no sense of accomplishment. According to his records, there were still two freshman pitchers who had not yet thrown.
And these two were the main focus of his observation for this game.
"Furuya Satoru."
Coach Kataoka called the name directly.
The most anticipated player naturally had to be saved for last. Furuya Satoru had shown astonishing pitching speed in previous practices, which had caught the attention of Coach Kataoka and the coaching staff. But with Zhang Han already on the team, their expectations for another fastball pitcher weren't set unreasonably high. Only by actually getting on the field could they know what level this pitcher had truly reached.
The other pitcher yet to throw was the one currently standing in the outfield, the one who at first glance didn't reveal anything particularly impressive. But he had a real achievement on his record.
It wasn't from his junior high days. As someone eliminated in the first round, his record there was basically a one-and-done. Sawamura's achievement came from his showdown with Azuma Kiyokuni last year. The pitcher who had struck out Azuma Kiyokuni was not someone Seido could truly ignore, no matter how much they pretended otherwise. Even during the period when Sawamura had been running laps, the coaching staff had been quietly watching him.
That was why Sawamura had been placed last on the evaluation list.
Furuya Satoru took the field under the gaze of everyone present.
Outside the field, the old alumni who had come specifically to watch felt their eyes sharpen the moment they saw him.
"He's very tall."
A tall physique often signals outstanding physical ability. On a baseball field, a player built like that naturally draws attention.
"What's his skill level?"
"I don't think I've heard that name from junior high."
While everyone was still talking, Furuya Satoru on the mound suddenly moved.
The player who had seemed unremarkable a moment ago immediately captured everyone's attention the instant he began his motion. It was like a sleeping tiger opening its eyes. Something in his gaze changed. An imposing aura came off him.
There was no need to even watch the delivery itself. The moment the young man set himself into his stance, the first string players all felt a jolt.
By instinct alone, they sensed this young man would be difficult to handle.
That he could pose a threat to them at all was already unbelievable.
What happened next made the first string players feel like they were hallucinating.
The tall Furuya Satoru stepped forward, his entire body coiled like a fully drawn bow. At the moment of release, the bowstring snapped.
The white ball shot through the air like an arrow.
"Boom!"
Most miraculously, the players nearby faintly heard the sound of the ball cutting through the air as it traveled. That was not normal. Every pitch makes some sound, but at any real distance that sound is too faint to hear. This ball, even from ten meters away, was audible.
Too fast.
It was like a beam of light crossing eighteen meters in an instant. Before the batter could react, the ball was already at the catcher.
The first-year catcher, seeing the pitch arrive, nearly panicked completely. He fell awkwardly backward, covering his face with both hands, convinced the ball was about to hit him.
It hit someone. Just not him.
The baseball struck the umpire standing behind him directly. Coach Kataoka's face mask was knocked clean off.
The scene went chaotic immediately. Everyone surged forward to check on him.
And somewhere in the back of their minds, a thought was forming.
This is a real fastball.
Zhang Han's was probably a counterfeit.
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