"Strike! Strikeout!!!"
Miyuki Kazuya even called it out proudly from behind the plate.
In the batter's box, Yuki Tetsuya stared coldly at Ushijima on the mound.
Just now, Ushijima had struck him out in three pitches—
A 145 km/h fastball, followed by a curveball, and finished cleanly.
The curveball itself wasn't extremely tricky yet.
But when combined with Ushijima's sharp fastball…
The difference in timing and trajectory made it incredibly difficult to deal with.
Even for a batter of Yuki's level.
"Try a slider."
Yuki didn't seem bothered at all.
He calmly raised his bat and pointed it toward Ushijima.
"I want to see it."
The slider…
…was one of the most important weapons for modern pitchers.
Compared to a curveball:
It's faster
It has a sharper, later break
And it's much harder to recognize early
In the first half of its path, it looks almost identical to a fastball.
Then—
Right before reaching the plate—
It suddenly slides sideways and drops.
That late movement is what makes it deadly.
In simple terms:
If a curveball is about big arcs and timing disruption…
Then a slider is about deception and sharp angle change.
At high levels, some sliders can move 40–50 cm sideways.
That's almost half the length of a bat.
Which means—
Even if a batter swings correctly…
They might still completely miss.
Back on the mound—
Ushijima adjusted his grip slightly.
Then—
He threw.
Whoosh!
The ball came out fast.
Very fast.
Around 130–135 km/h.
For the first half of its path—
It looked exactly like a fastball.
Right down the middle.
A perfect "hittable" pitch.
Yuki's eyes locked onto it.
Center.
Good pitch.
He prepared to swing—
Then—
The ball moved.
Not slightly.
Not subtly.
It slid sharply across the zone.
From the center—
All the way toward the lower outside corner.
THUMP!
Miyuki caught it cleanly.
"…?!"
Yuki froze.
He hadn't even swung.
Behind the plate, Miyuki's eyes widened.
"…Wait."
Even the players watching from the side were stunned.
They had all assumed—
Either Ushijima couldn't throw a proper slider yet…
Or the pitch would be slow and easy to read.
But what they just saw—
Was neither.
"That… was a slider?"
Kuramochi muttered.
"No way…"
Miyuki suddenly stood up.
"HEY!"
"Is this what you meant by 'slow slider'?!"
He shouted at Ushijima.
Ushijima looked confused.
"…Isn't it slow?"
"My fastball reaches 158 km/h."
"Nonsense!"
"Speed isn't the point of a slider!"
Kuramochi yelled from the side.
"What matters is the movement!"
Ushijima frowned slightly.
"Who said speed doesn't matter?"
"The fastest sliders in the world reach around 157 km/h."
"And top-level sliders can move up to 50 cm sideways."
He crossed his arms.
"My pitch just now was only around 135 km/h."
"And the lateral movement was maybe 15–20 cm."
"That's not enough."
Everyone went silent.
"For a slider to be truly effective…"
"It needs to be as close as possible to the fastball in speed."
"So the batter can't tell the difference."
He looked at Miyuki.
"My fastball is 158 km/h."
"This slider is about 130."
"That's nearly a 30 km/h difference."
"Where's the deception in that?"
"…."
No one answered.
Because—
What he said…
Actually made sense.
Miyuki slowly sat back down, staring at Ushijima.
"…This guy…"
He muttered under his breath.
"…his standards are ridiculous."
Because from everyone else's perspective—
That slider was already more than good enough.
But for Ushijima Wakatoshi?
It was still…
not fast enough.