"Did these guys eat something bad? Why are they so excited?"
On the pitcher's mound, Amahisa Kousei stared at the wildly cheering Seido supporters, confusion flickering in his eyes.
He truly couldn't understand it.
The game was still going on.
The score remained 8–2.
The difference between the two teams had reached six runs.
Only one more run was needed for Seido High School Baseball Team to trigger the mercy rule.
At that moment, Amahisa Kousei suddenly realized where the excitement in the stands was coming from.
It was because of his previous mistake.
Those people probably believed Seido could continue scoring.
After all—
Two outs.
Runner on second base.
One more clean hit, and the game would be over.
A faint, self-mocking smile tugged at the corner of Amahisa Kousei's mouth.
So that's how it is.
He was being looked down on.
One mistake was enough.
Seido, as the reigning national champions, naturally had the ability to seize that chance and score.
That much was reasonable.
If they couldn't even do that, they wouldn't deserve the title of king among more than four thousand high schools.
But twice?
Did they really think he would allow the same thing to happen again?
How could he, Amahisa Kousei, accept that?
"If you think this inning is already over…"
"Then open your eyes and watch carefully!"
Not to mention, Ichidai still had the bottom of the seventh inning.
Even at this very moment, Amahisa Kousei would not permit himself to give up another run.
On the bench, Coach Harada's eyes were red.
The pressure was immense.
The coaches and players of Ichidai San High School Baseball Team were struggling to accept what was happening.
All their gazes locked onto the mound.
Amahisa Kousei dug his fingers into the baseball.
He took his stance.
Then—
With explosive force, he fired.
"Whoosh!"
The baseball tore through the air.
At home plate, Miyuki Kazuya narrowed his eyes.
Seido High School Baseball Team had thoroughly researched Amahisa Kousei.
Miyuki himself was extremely confident.
Isashiki Jun was already standing on second base.
If Amahisa wanted to prevent another run, his pitch selection should be relatively predictable.
And as long as Miyuki could anticipate the pitch—
He had more than enough ways to deal with it.
That was what Miyuki believed.
But reality immediately proved him wrong.
This pitcher…
Did not follow patterns.
Nor did he care about conventional logic.
First pitch.
A straight fastball.
And not just any fastball—
A well-located one on the corner.
In Miyuki's mind, that choice made almost no sense.
Yet Amahisa Kousei threw it anyway.
"Clap!"
"Strike!"
The baseball slapped into the catcher's mitt.
Miyuki didn't even have time to react.
The entire stadium fell silent.
Even though Ichidai had gained a slight edge by stealing a strike…
No one felt relaxed.
Because everyone knew—
The next pitch might decide everything.
Life or death.
Seido or Ichidai.
All eyes were fixed on the mound.
Amahisa Kousei raised his arm again.
"Whoosh!"
Second pitch.
Miyuki's brows knitted tightly.
Another pitch he hadn't expected.
Sharp.
Tight to the corner.
For a split second, Miyuki wanted to swing.
But he forced himself to stop.
Even if he made contact, it would likely be a foul.
Meaningless.
Instead, he chose patience.
Two strikes.
According to standard pitching theory—
The third pitch should be a ball.
Or a pitch just outside the zone, trying to lure a chase.
This was the common pattern used by pitchers at every level.
And Miyuki Kazuya was extremely familiar with this rhythm.
It was precisely because he could read these sequences that he so often reached base and left people with the impression that he was "unhittable."
But—
Looking at Amahisa Kousei on the mound…
Even Miyuki began to feel uncertain.
This guy…
Might not follow theory at all.
After being hit repeatedly.
After giving up runs.
He was still standing there.
Still throwing.
Still challenging.
How long could he keep this up?
Even many Seido supporters couldn't help but feel astonished.
Amahisa Kousei's stubbornness…
Was bordering on terrifying.
Facing such an opponent, could Miyuki Kazuya really continue his previous miraculous performance?
That question inevitably stirred unease.
On the pitcher's mound, Amahisa Kousei was muttering softly to himself.
Having already secured two strikes, he looked at Miyuki Kazuya as if he were gazing at a prey that was finally within reach.
Although Ichidai San High School Baseball Team was destined to lose today's game, Amahisa Kousei absolutely refused to allow Seido High School Baseball Team to end it early.
At this moment, Ichidai San High School Baseball Team's main catcher gave Amahisa Kousei a clear signal.
"Use your best decisive pitch! No one from Seido can hit your Slider except Zhou Hao and Yuki!"
Seido's batting lineup was undoubtedly strong—very strong.
But Amahisa Kousei's Slider was even stronger.
From the previous exchanges, it had already been proven: as long as he threw this pitch, most batters could only watch helplessly.
There was no need for complicated tactics.
If one pitch could solve the problem, why bother with anything else?
Wasn't a true Ace's decisive pitch meant to be used precisely at moments like this?
Amahisa Kousei thought the same.
The game had reached this point—there was nothing left to hold back.
Future games no longer mattered.
The only goal now was to get the third out.
Only by ending this inning could they even begin to talk about anything else.
With that resolve, Amahisa Kousei lifted his arm high.
Two strikes.
A head-on showdown.
Even the spectators in the stands could imagine how explosive this confrontation would be.
Not to mention the players on the field.
Everyone's attention was completely locked onto these two.
In such a situation, most pitchers would be overwhelmed by fear or pressure.
But none of that could be seen on Amahisa Kousei.
He looked like a cold, merciless pitching machine.
Yet inside, his blood was boiling.
His adrenaline surged, and he felt that this pitch would be even faster and sharper than before.
"Whoosh!"
The catcher's eyes lit up the instant the ball left Amahisa Kousei's hand.
Perfect.
Speed, spin, angle, break—everything was flawless.
In his mind, he could already see Miyuki Kazuya swinging and missing.
But Miyuki Kazuya, standing in the batter's box, revealed a faint smile instead.
Just as I expected.
Miyuki didn't know what kind of discussion Amahisa Kousei and his catcher had gone through.
But he had already guessed the outcome.
If Miyuki were in their position, he would also choose this pitch without hesitation.
Against truly strong opponents, bad pitches were meaningless.
Only absolute confidence in one's strongest weapon could decide the outcome.
Amahisa Kousei's Slider was not an ordinary Slider.
Without preparation, almost no one—aside from Zhou Hao—could hit it.
Unfortunately for Ichidai San…
Miyuki Kazuya met both conditions.
He had already seen this pitch before.
And he had prepared specifically for it.
As the baseball flew toward him, there was no tension on Miyuki's face—only anticipation.
It's coming.
Amahisa Kousei's final weapon.
The break.
The drop.
The location.
All of it had been replayed countless times in Miyuki's mind.
Now—
He swung.
"Fly!"
The moment Miyuki Kazuya swung with such confidence and power, Ichidai San's main catcher felt a crushing sense of dread.
Impossible…
How could he hit Amahisa Kousei's Slider?!
"Ping!"
The bat met the ball cleanly.
"Third base!"
The catcher screamed in panic.
But he knew it was already too late.
Ichidai San's third baseman saw the ball screaming toward him.
Every instinct in his body roared.
He had to stop it.
Otherwise, everything would be over.
"Stop it!"
He leapt with all his strength.
Despite his sturdy build, his jump was surprisingly agile—proof of a national powerhouse's starting player.
But—
He was still just short.
By more than ten centimeters.
In that instant, the third baseman felt as if the world had lost all color.
The baseball sailed cleanly over his head.
Behind him, there was no one.
"It went over!"
"Another long hit!"
The ball landed and bounced into the outfield.
The angle was perfect.
The outfielder chased desperately, but it was too late.
Isashiki Jun, who had been on second base, sprinted around third without hesitation.
He never stopped.
By the time Ichidai San's fielders threw the ball back—
"Safe!"
Isashiki Jun slid across home plate.
"Seido High School Baseball Team scores again!"
"The score is now 9–2!"
Even the players of Seido High School Baseball Team hadn't truly imagined this outcome.
If they had, Zhou Hao would never have been substituted earlier.
But now, as reality unfolded before them—
They finally realized it.
They were really about to end this game early.