Shirasu was the first to step into the batter's box.
The moment he saw the unfamiliar figure standing at the plate, Sawamura Eijun instinctively frowned.
Although Sawamura hadn't officially been promoted to the First String yet, he had already set his sights on joining it. And because of his close relationship with Zhou Hao, he was quite familiar with most of the team's core players.
Yet no matter how hard he searched his memory, he couldn't recall who this Shirasu was.
"Sawamura, you're really carefree," a relatively short player beside him said with a chuckle.
"Even though Shirasu-senpai doesn't have much presence, he's a legitimate regular. His batting is extremely stable, and his fundamentals are very solid."
"Really? Then why don't I remember him at all?" Sawamura muttered, shaking his head.
Just then, Manaka, standing on the pitcher's mound, released the ball.
"Whoosh!"
The white baseball cut sharply through the air.
Shirasu's eyes lit up the instant the pitch left Manaka's hand.
He immediately sensed something off.
Manaka—the ace of Ichidai San High School—was being affected by Zhou Hao's pitch from earlier. His rhythm was slightly disrupted.
The flaw wasn't obvious, but opportunities like this were rare.
If Ichidai San found their rhythm again and began playing at their own pace, it would become incredibly difficult for Seido to score—no matter how strong they were.
This chance couldn't be wasted.
Even though Shirasu hadn't planned to swing at the first pitch, he decisively abandoned that thought.
He stepped in firmly and swung.
Inside the Seido dugout, Manager Ota nervously rubbed his hands together.
"Too rushed!!"
From his point of view, Manaka still looked sharp—his condition seemed excellent. Seido's batters should have focused on extending the at-bat, probing for weaknesses, or wearing the ace down.
Shirasu was usually calm and methodical. Ota hadn't expected him to act so aggressively.
In contrast, Coach Kataoka's eyes shone brightly behind his brown-tinted sunglasses.
"Ping!"
The bat met the ball cleanly.
The baseball soared into the sky, tracing a sharp arc before dropping hard onto the field and bouncing forward.
"Thwack!"
Ichidai San's fielders charged immediately—but the ball slipped past them before they could react.
"It went through?!"
The Seido supporters in the stands stared in disbelief.
Manaka had been dominating.
Aside from the two monsters—Zhou Hao and Yuki—he had made Seido's other power hitters look helpless.
Even the most devoted Seido fans hadn't expected this.
Their ninth batter… actually got a clean hit off Manaka?
"And it's a solid hit!"
"Nice one! What was that batter's name?"
"Uh… Shirasu, I think?"
Sawamura, who had just felt awkward moments earlier, relaxed visibly.
Looks like I'm not the only one who underestimated him…
Many spectators recognized Shirasu's face—after all, he was a regular—but his name didn't immediately come to mind.
That was about to change.
He had succeeded where others had failed.
No outs. Runner on first.
The batting order turned over.
"First batter, Number 6—Shortstop, Kuramochi!"
Kuramochi stepped into the batter's box.
Watching his classmate Shirasu perform so well lit a fire in him.
"Nice one, Shirasu," Kuramochi muttered with a grin.
"About time everyone realized Seido's second-years aren't just Zhou Hao."
Kuramochi respected Zhou Hao deeply—they were close, after all.
But as a baseball player, he had his own pride.
And now, he wanted to prove himself.
"Yeehaa!"
He settled into his stance, coiled and ready.
On the mound, Manaka took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
That last pitch replayed in his mind.
Damn it…
He had prepared endlessly for this game—countless hours of training, countless simulations.
How could he let Zhou Hao's pitch throw him off now?
"I won't make the same mistake again."
Manaka's eyes hardened as he delivered the ball with conviction.
If Seido had the skill, then let them prove it.
"Whoosh!"
Kuramochi, who had clearly been preparing for a long hit, suddenly choked up on the bat.
The move shocked everyone.
Before anyone could react—
"Ping!"
Kuramochi laid down a bunt.
The ball rolled softly forward.
The instant the ball touched the ground, Kuramochi exploded toward first base.
Shirasu, already anticipating this, sprinted for second.
"Walk? No—double steal?!"
Ichidai San's players reacted quickly.
As one of the nation's elite teams, their game sense was top-tier.
They instantly understood Kuramochi's intent.
Understanding it, however, didn't mean they could stop it.
The infielder rushed in desperately, scooping the ball with his bare hand to save time.
Ball secured, his eyes snapped toward second base.
A double play would be ideal. Even cutting down the runner advancing to second would be acceptable.
But the moment he assessed the distance, his heart sank.
Shirasu wasn't slow.
He might not excel in any single area, but he was solid across the board—and in coordinated plays like this, that mattered.
At this point, Shirasu was only four or five meters from second base.
Too late.
"Then we can only get the batter—"
The third baseman turned toward first base—
—and his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
What?!
How is he already there?!
Kuramochi was flying.
In the blink of an eye, he was only seven or eight meters from first base.
The third baseman of Ichidai San High School desperately hurled the ball.
"Whoosh!"
"Thwack!"
The baseball and the runner arrived at first base almost simultaneously.
All eyes immediately turned to the first-base umpire.
Feeling the weight of countless gazes, the umpire quietly let out a breath of relief.
Fortunately, his focus had been absolute.
Otherwise, if a replay later revealed a wrong call, he would probably be cursed straight into the trending topics by whichever side felt wronged.
"Safe!"
Kuramochi reached safely.
No outs. Runners on first and second.
The next batters due up were Kominato Ryosuke, Zhou Hao, and Yuki Tetsuya.
Even the most optimistic supporters of Ichidai San High School tightly pressed their lips together.
They didn't want to admit it—but reality was staring them in the face.
At this point, conceding runs felt inevitable.
The only remaining question was how many.
If they put themselves in Manaka's position—ace pitcher of Ichidai San High School—most people would already be thinking about escape.
But Manaka did not.
Standing on the mound, he suddenly raised one finger.
"Let's get one out first."
"Get one out first!!"
His voice was calm, firm, and steady.
Almost miraculously, the players of Ichidai San relaxed.
It had to be said—their ace possessed a certain magic.
Manaka had always been the team's backbone, and the confidence he radiated was enough to stabilize everyone around him.
Even with the situation clearly turning unfavorable, under his lead, Ichidai San's players regained their composure and began thinking rationally again.
There was no retreat now.
With their spirits lifted, they prepared to face Seido's offense head-on.
"Second Batter, Number 4—Second Baseman, Kominato Ryosuke!"
Kominato Ryosuke, small in stature, stepped into the batter's box with a gentle smile.
He glanced toward the pitcher's mound.
At that moment, Manaka seemed to be glowing.
Kominato's smile widened.
"How wonderful," he murmured.
"So this is the brilliance of a true ace."
Before Zhou Hao's sudden rise, Seido's greatest weakness had always been the lack of a true ace.
That flaw had cost them repeatedly when facing their two greatest rivals.
Now, although Seido finally had an ace of their own, seeing the opponent's ace shining so brightly still made Kominato uncomfortable.
Deep down, he felt an urge—
He wanted to tear that brilliance apart.
"Strike!"
"Strike!!"
Manaka quickly seized two strikes.
But when the third pitch came—
"Ping!"
Kominato swung, sending the ball foul.
Two strikes. One foul.
The hearts of Ichidai San's players and supporters clenched tightly.
Manaka had clearly regained his form.
So why could Kominato so easily touch his pitch?
No one could understand.
Even Manaka himself couldn't.
Frowning slightly, he threw again.
This time, Kominato didn't swing.
"Thwack!"
"Ball!"
The supporters hadn't even had time to cheer before the call came.
That pitch… missed?
"Ping!"
"Foul!"
"Ball!!!"
Kominato Ryosuke had entered his domain.
The Ichidai San players and fans were completely dumbfounded.
They had seen Kominato use this style before.
But those opponents had never been teams like Ichidai San.
And standing on the mound now wasn't some ordinary pitcher—it was Manaka Kaname, the ace of a national powerhouse.
Yet this slender, unassuming batter from Seido was dragging Manaka into a grueling duel.
Two strikes.
Three balls.
The last thread of patience in Manaka's eyes snapped.
"This pitch… decides it."
He reached for the weapon he had originally prepared for Zhou Hao.
"Whoosh!"
The ball screamed toward the plate.
Kominato stood frozen, watching it fly past.
"Thwack!"
The catcher received it cleanly.
The supporters of Ichidai San erupted in cheers—
After nearly ten pitches, it was finally over!
But before their cheers could fully rise—
"Ball!"
The home plate umpire's voice cut through the noise.
"Four balls. Walk."
No outs.
Bases loaded.
A wave of disbelief swept through Ichidai San's side.
How could that be?!
How could their ace throw a ball in that situation?!
Meanwhile, Kominato Ryosuke's smile only grew brighter as he trotted to first base.
To be honest, he hadn't been confident he could foul off Manaka's final pitch.
At most, he thought he had two pitches left before being forced to put the ball in play.
But Manaka had put too much power into that throw.
The moment Kominato sensed it might sail just outside, he gambled.
Luck was on his side.
The ball missed the strike zone by just two or three centimeters.
And the umpire's eyes were sharp.
"It seems Lady Luck hasn't abandoned us after all," Kominato thought.
They said Seido had bad luck today.
In his opinion, that was nonsense.
At least his luck was excellent.
After all—he was standing on first base now.
"Third Batter, Number 1—Pitcher, Zhou Hao!"
Zhou Hao stepped into the batter's box for the second time.
This time—
The bases were loaded.