Whoosh!
The instant the white baseball left Zhou Hao's fingertips—
Thousands of eyes in the stadium widened.
Everyone sensed it.
Something about this pitch… was different.
Yet for a moment, no one could explain why.
Teito's leadoff batter watched the ball streak toward him.
His first thought:
Fast.
Zhou Hao was famous for his Spiral Ball.
Naturally, people assumed his fastball was his weakest weapon — simple trajectory, low stamina cost, easiest to hit.
But now—
His body trembled.
He felt that if he swung, he could hit it.
Yet just as he started the motion—
He stopped.
Instinct screamed inside him.
If you swing… you'll miss.
So he didn't swing.
SNAP!
"Strike!"
Cheers erupted.
"151 km/h!!"
The speed stunned the crowd.
Seido's supporters already knew Zhou Hao had improved.
But seeing it live—
Was completely different.
If even his most ordinary pitch exceeded 150 km/h…
Then what about his other pitches?
Excitement surged through the stands.
A pitcher already considered nearly invincible had just become even stronger.
Discussion filled the stadium.
"He froze?"
"That's Zhou Hao for you…"
The Teito dugout heard every word.
"Damn it!"
Anger burned in their chests — but anger solved nothing.
Speed alone was overwhelming most of them.
How could they stay calm?
Only one first-year rookie stared with shining eyes.
"As expected… Senior Zhou Hao is invincible."
Spiral ball or fastball—
Anything he threw left opponents helpless.
The dugout fell silent.
The crowd roared louder.
"Keep it up!"
"We're the strongest!"
On the mound, Zhou Hao looked like a war god.
Cold eyes.
No hesitation.
The batter glared back, humiliated.
A powerhouse cleanup hitter unable to touch a fastball—
That was unbearable.
Yet they had no answer.
Why Can't We Hit It?
"It's just a fastball… why is it so heavy?"
Teito players couldn't understand.
Seido players could.
Because the pitcher was Zhou Hao.
Even an ordinary pitch from him carried overwhelming force.
And the results proved it.
BOOM!
First batter — strikeout.
Second batter — strikeout.
They saw it clearly.
They reacted correctly.
They still missed.
"Strikeout!!"
"Strikeout!!!"
Two outs.
No contact.
No resistance.
The game had just begun—
Yet Teito already felt suffocated.
No cheers.
No adjustments.
Only pressure.
Zhou Hao's presence alone dominated the field.
As long as Zhou Hao stood on the mound—
Teito's players and supporters subconsciously felt it.
There was no hope.
Not until the third batter stepped up.
Two outs.
Bases empty.
Zhou Hao had opened the inning with nothing but fastballs.
If this continued—
The inning would end in complete humiliation.
"We can't let this go on."
Teito's third batter stared at Zhou Hao.
There was awe in his eyes.
But there was something else too.
Defiance.
He didn't need a home run.
He didn't even need a hit.
He just needed contact.
If he could touch the ball—
He could turn the tide.
I have to hit it.
I have to avenge them.
As the core of a national powerhouse lineup, his presence alone carried weight.
An unapproachable aura surrounded him.
The stands reacted immediately.
"If it's you, you can do it!"
"Hit it out!"
Even he was surprised by the intensity of the cheers.
Zhou Hao's name had long echoed like thunder.
And now—
He stood face-to-face with him.
Of course he believed he had a chance.
After all—
It was only a fastball.
Zhou Hao moved.
Leg lifted high.
Foot slammed down.
His center of gravity shifted.
Whoosh!
The ball shot forward like an arrow released from a bowstring.
The third batter's pupils shrank.
So fast—
Before his brain finished processing it—
The ball had already passed.
Snap!
"Strike!!"
He hadn't even moved.
How could it be this overwhelming?
If it were the Spiral Ball, surrender would make sense.
But this—
Was just a fastball.
And he specialized in hitting fastballs.
On the pitching machine, he handled 150 km/h easily.
So why—
Why couldn't he even react?
He refused to accept it.
No matter what—
He wouldn't back down.
Zhou Hao delivered the second pitch.
Whoosh.
This time, the sound was quieter.
The speed didn't seem as explosive.
Yet the threat multiplied.
If the first pitch was a spear—
This one was a dagger.
Short. Precise. Fatal.
His prepared swing—
Never came.
The ball had already crossed the plate.
Snap!
"Strike!!"
Two strikes.
The stadium fell into a suffocating silence.
Teito no longer hoped for a hit.
They just wanted—
Contact.
Just one touch.
They were a national powerhouse.
They couldn't leave like this.
Zhou Hao didn't hesitate.
Boom!
The third pitch tore through the air.
The batter clenched his teeth.
"Get out there!!!"
He swung with everything he had.
But—
He was late.
The bat cut through empty air.
The baseball slipped past perfectly—
Through the strike zone.
Past the barrel.
Into Chris's mitt.
Snap!
"Three strikes — strikeout!!"
Complete Suppression
Three batters.
Three strikeouts.
Not one ball touched.
Not even once.
Top of the first inning—
Three up, three down.
And what crushed Teito the most wasn't the result.
It was this:
Zhou Hao hadn't used his Spiral Ball.
Not his trump card.
Not his signature weapon.
Just—
A fastball.
And they couldn't solve it.
The mound stood silent.
Zhou Hao turned calmly and walked off.
Behind him—
Teito's pride lay shattered in the dust.