"Ball!"
Even though the umpire ruled it outside, his voice wavered slightly.
That pitch…
It was terrifying.
A high school pitcher throwing something like that?
Unbelievable.
The batter swallowed hard.
"T-this…"
It was the first time in his life he had seen that kind of speed from a real person.
Sure, he'd faced fast balls before.
Every day in practice.
But those were pitching machines.
Metal arms.
Not flesh and blood.
And yet the guy on the mound just threw something even faster than that.
For a moment—
He was genuinely scared.
"Whoa… even if it missed, that speed is insane!"
"Wasn't that faster than Furuya's?"
"Yeah! Since when did Ushijima throw that hard?"
"I heard his top speed in Kanto was only 145!"
"Did he just break 150?!"
"Seido has TWO first-years throwing 150+?! That's ridiculous!"
The spectators outside the field erupted.
Everyone who had seen Ushijima before wore the same stunned expression.
They had never seen him throw this hard.
Not once.
Kiryu's bench.
"This… this is cheating, right?"
"Did we get the reading?! What's the speed?" Coach Matsumoto asked urgently.
The recorder stared at the speed gun, hands shaking.
"1… 1… 155 kilometers per hour."
"…What?"
"155?!"
The entire bench exploded.
"That's pro-level speed!"
"And from a freshman?! That's illegal!"
"The scouting report said 145!"
"So he improved again…" Matsumoto muttered, rubbing his chin.
"…Seido. What monsters are you raising?"
Seido's side.
"…Scary," Kominato Haruichi muttered.
Coach Kataoka nodded calmly.
"I told you. Don't underestimate our first-year ace."
Rei Takashima pushed up her glasses, smiling faintly.
"This is actually the first time he's shown 150+ in a real game."
"He only did it during practice before."
Chris, holding the records, added quietly,
"Velocity without control is meaningless."
"That's why we've been suppressing his speed."
"A pitch only has value if you can command it."
He glanced at Furuya meaningfully.
Fast but wild.
That wasn't enough.
Control was everything.
Rei crossed her arms and looked toward the mound.
"Kiryu's lineup averages over 180 kilograms of back strength."
"The strongest power-hitting team in the country…"
"Let's see how long they can survive against you, Ushijima."
On the mound.
Ushijima caught Miyuki's return throw.
Miyuki crouched behind the plate, grinning.
"That first pitch alone left a deep scar on him."
"From here on… it's easy."
"Let's strike him out."
He set his target high and inside.
Bold.
Aggressive.
Ushijima chuckled.
"…You really have a nasty personality."
Still—
He liked it.
Second pitch.
Not as fast as before.
But still blazing.
The batter flinched the moment it came near his chest.
Instinctively leaning back—
SMACK!
"Strike!"
"…Damn it!"
The batter gritted his teeth.
It wasn't even as fast as the first one.
But because of that first pitch…
Everything now looked terrifying.
Third pitch.
Low and inside.
145 km/h.
Perfectly painted on the corner.
The batter jumped back again.
"Strike two!"
From the hitter's perspective, it looked like it would hit him.
But every time—
It barely clipped the zone.
Cold.
Precise.
Cruel.
Miyuki's game-calling was merciless.
Behind the mask, Miyuki smiled.
Got him.
He knew exactly what the batter was thinking.
Scared.
Defensive.
Late reactions.
Perfect.
He removed his glove and flashed the next sign.
Ushijima lifted his leg again.
Fourth pitch—
Another inside heater.
"Again?!"
This time the batter forced himself to swing.
But—
WHIFF.
Nothing but air.
SMACK!
"Strike three! Batter out!"
"…Damn it!"
Walking back to the dugout, the batter glared at the mound.
He hadn't even touched the ball.
Four pitches.
Three straight inside fastballs.
Every single one felt like it was coming for his ribs.
He'd backed away like a coward.
Tricked.
Toyed with.
Played like a fool—
By a first-year.
And behind it all…
That smiling catcher.
That guy was the real sinner.