Top of the Second Inning — Teito on Offense
Anyone watching could tell the pressure on Teito was enormous.
If their offense failed again, the team might collapse before the game had truly begun.
At that moment, Teito's fourth batter stepped into the box.
The determination in his eyes was unmistakable — he intended to drive the ball deep.
In Seido's dugout, all eyes turned toward Zhou Hao.
They were curious what their ace would throw.
"Spiral ball?"
"He should… this is Teito's cleanup hitter."
"Their number-one slugger from a national powerhouse."
Even with absolute faith in Zhou Hao, they couldn't underestimate this opponent.
On the mound, Zhou Hao began his motion.
Nothing flashy.
Set… leg lift… arm swing.
Simple movements — yet executed with such refinement it felt as if he had repeated them millions of times.
The instant Zhou Hao entered his pitching stance, the batter felt danger.
A powerful instinct he rarely experienced.
And whenever it appeared…
It was always real.
The batter locked his eyes onto the ball.
It's coming!
The pitch rushed toward him at terrifying speed.
"I can see it!"
Despite the velocity, he smiled.
Elite hitters trusted their instincts — and his was almost never wrong.
At minimum, he could make contact and disrupt Zhou Hao's momentum.
Snap!
"Strike!"
The first pitch landed cleanly in Chris's mitt.
Zhou Hao got ahead immediately.
Chris subtly flashed a sign.
He's figured out the previous rhythm. Change approach.
Even at over 150 km/h, this batter could still drive the ball if he timed it right.
Zhou Hao nodded without hesitation.
He couldn't read the batter clearly from the mound — but Chris could.
And Zhou Hao trusted Chris completely.
The next pitch came.
Low-spin fastball.
Swoosh!
The batter's eyes lit up.
The pitch entered his perfect hitting zone.
So what if this was the nation's top pitcher?
No spiral ball — just a fastball.
Then it could be hit.
He swung with full power.
BOOM!
The bat cut through the air violently.
Chris felt his heart jolt.
This hitter's strength wasn't inferior to West Tokyo's elite sluggers.
If he squared it up, the consequences would be serious.
Ping!
The ball rocketed off the bat.
The Seido stands gasped.
He actually hit Zhou Hao's pitch?!
But—
A figure suddenly leaped into the air.
Snap!
"OUT!!"
One out, bases empty.
Shortstop Kuramochi Yoichi landed, glove raised.
"Heh — had a feeling it was coming my way."
Perfect positioning. Perfect timing.
The stadium buzzed.
Teito's supporters sighed in regret.
They were just one step away from proving Zhou Hao wasn't untouchable.
Even without scoring, a hit would've changed momentum.
But now…
That chance was gone.
As Teito's players calmed down, a realization struck them.
Zhou Hao had already sensed the danger.
He wouldn't give another opportunity.
Next…
He would likely unleash the Spiral Ball.
They had never faced it before, yet its reputation alone was terrifying.
Even his "weakest" pitch — the fastball — had overwhelmed them.
If the Spiral Ball appeared…
Did they stand any chance?
The game moved on.
Teito's fifth batter stepped up.
And immediately felt bitterness.
After nearly being hit hard, Zhou Hao would not hold back anymore.
If they swung carelessly—
The Spiral Ball would come.
And once it did…
There would be no escape.
If Zhou Hao really used the Spiral Ball, with their current level, they might not even manage to touch it.
He was also a respected star batter—his reputation wasn't much worse than the team's cleanup hitter.
The cleanup had nearly made contact.
If it were his turn and he couldn't even graze the ball…
He would lose face on the national stage.
"No! I have to at least touch it!"
While Teito's fifth batter steeled himself and prepared to swing at anything, Zhou Hao on the mound finally moved.
Boom!
The expected Spiral Ball didn't come.
It was still a fastball.
The fifth batter's pupils shrank.
A fastball? Again?
"Your trick has already been seen through, and you still dare throw a fastball?"
His eyes reddened.
No matter how he thought about it, it made no sense.
But Zhou Hao threw it anyway — without hesitation.
If there wasn't something hidden behind it…
He wouldn't believe it even if he were beaten to death.
Because of that doubt, he didn't swing at the first pitch.
Nor the second.
Snap!
"Strike!"
"Strike two!!"
Two strikes instantly pushed him into a corner.
Now he understood — he couldn't wait any longer.
Whether the next pitch was a fastball or not…
He had to swing.
If he didn't, the at-bat was already over.
"I'm not worse than our cleanup. If he can hit it, so can I!"
He raised the bat high and locked onto Zhou Hao.
Seeing that look, Zhou Hao curled his lips slightly.
He had to admit — these guys were tough.
But the tougher the opponent, the easier they were to read at certain moments.
Just like now.
The batter's intention was written all over his face.
So the final pitch Zhou Hao chose…
was deliberate.
The fifth batter swung with all his strength.
Buzz!
The bat sliced through the air — about to meet the ball.
But at the last instant—
the ball suddenly dropped.
Not a fastball?!
He realized too late.
The bat and ball crossed past each other.
Snap!
"Strike!"
"Strikeout!!"
Two outs. Bases empty.
At that moment, Zhou Hao stood on the mound like an undefeated war god.
No one could shake him.
The stadium erupted.
"He can dominate with just fastballs?"
"As expected of Zhou Hao!"
"Teito is a national powerhouse, and they're being completely suppressed!"
"This is the nation's number one!"
"So cool!!"
The comments spread across the stands.
Teito's players and supporters heard them clearly.
They wanted to refute it…
But no words came out.
The gap was simply too large.
Especially the gap between them and Zhou Hao — heaven and earth.
"Sixth batter!"
The next batter stepped into the box.
Teito's side held its breath, afraid even speaking might ruin their momentum.
They were still hoping for a miracle.
At that moment—
Zhou Hao fired the pitch.
Swoosh!
A fastball straight down the middle!
The sixth batter's eyes lit up.
Is fate giving me a chance?!
If he could crush this pitch — luck or not — people's evaluation of him would change.
From this moment forward…
he would become a national-level slugger.
Ping!
He connected.
But instead of a line drive through the defense—
the ball shot high into the air.
Fifteen… sixteen meters forward…
then it began to fall.
Zhou Hao calmly raised his glove and waited beneath it.
Snap!
"Out!!"
Three outs. Side retired.
The entire stadium stared in shock.
They knew Zhou Hao was strong.
But not this strong.
"All fastballs — yet every one different. How are they this effective?"
"He didn't chase strikeouts. He took outs his own way."
Zhou Hao's pitching… had matured.