"Snap!"
"Out!!"
Two outs. Runner on second base.
Just when Kawakami seemed on the verge of collapsing, Zhou Hao delivered a stunning defensive play—first the catch, then a seventy-meter laser to home plate.
In the blink of an eye, Seido secured two outs.
The entire stadium was stunned.
Even Narumiya Mei, the batter who had just hit the ball, stood there dumbfounded.
The truth was, the outcome wasn't entirely surprising.
After all, Mei had failed to control the landing spot of the ball he hit.
But in fairness, it wasn't really his fault.
Kawakami had made adjustments during that pitch. The movement at the end of the ball had become sharper, giving it a stronger tailing action.
Mei had aimed to crush the ball—send it flying as far as possible, preferably straight into the stands.
Under those circumstances, controlling the exact landing point of the hit was nearly impossible.
Still, Zhou Hao catching the ball for the first out was one thing.
But throwing it back like that?
And at such terrifying speed?
The ball had streaked across the field like a falling meteor, leaving the players of Inashiro Industrial High School no time to react.
Too fast.
Not only the players, but the fans in the stands felt the same way.
"Why do I feel like that throw was even faster than Zhou Hao's pitches?"
"Well, he was running forward when he threw it. His body angle was different. That probably added speed."
"Did anyone bring a speed gun? Did someone record the speed of that throw just now?"
Normally, measuring pitch speed was easy.
Most fans who brought speed guns would keep them ready whenever a pitcher was on the mound.
But no one had expected a return throw like that.
Naturally, nobody had prepared their devices in advance.
However, there were more than ten thousand spectators in the stadium.
Among such a large crowd, there were naturally quite a few hardcore baseball fans who carried speed guns with them.
Most people hadn't predicted anything special.
But some fans were different.
When they saw Zhou Hao positioning himself to catch the ball, their instincts kicked in.
Based on years of watching baseball, they had a feeling Zhou Hao might attempt a quick throw.
Maybe—just maybe—they would witness one of his legendary cannon throws.
At the time, they were simply trying their luck.
They had no idea what kind of miracle they were about to witness.
It was just a subconscious action.
But when Zhou Hao released the ball, the numbers that appeared on their speed guns left them stunned.
"Did my speed gun malfunction?"
The moment they saw the reading, several fans questioned their equipment.
After all, they were very familiar with Zhou Hao's pitching speed.
Even if his velocity had improved recently, they couldn't imagine it changing so drastically.
Yet the numbers were right there in front of them.
Clear and undeniable.
Still, they found it hard to believe.
Until someone nearby suddenly shouted—
"Is this a joke? One hundred and sixty-three kilometers per hour?!"
The number sent shockwaves through the surrounding crowd.
"That throw was fast, sure—but 163 km/h? No way!"
"The machine must be broken!"
"Wasn't Zhou Hao's previous top speed around 156?"
Amid the chatter, the fan who had spoken first carefully checked the number on his speed gun again.
If it had only been his reading, a malfunction would have been easy to explain.
But now things were different.
Several people had measured the same speed.
It couldn't be that all their devices had broken at the same time, could it?
Even if by some absurd coincidence multiple machines malfunctioned…
How could they all show the exact same reading?
Something was definitely wrong.
Or rather—
something incredible had just happened.
"I got 163 too!"
"Same here!"
"And me!"
Once the first person spoke up, others quickly followed.
Second. Third. Fourth.
When more than a dozen people confirmed the same number, the surrounding fans had no choice but to accept the truth.
"That means… it wasn't a malfunction."
"Definitely not. The lowest reading is 162, the highest is 163.5!"
"Most of them are around 163."
"There's no way all the machines broke at once."
"That throw from Zhou Hao… was 163 kilometers per hour."
The entire stadium erupted into commotion.
Everyone was deeply shocked by the incredible speed.
The noise grew so loud that even Zhou Hao himself heard it.
Although the giant electronic scoreboard didn't display the speed of that throw—
the fans' speed guns had already revealed it.
One hundred and sixty-three kilometers per hour?
Zhou Hao looked down at his own palm in disbelief.
He had never considered himself a natural-born monster.
In his own estimation, his pitching speed had already reached its limit.
After all, his Fastball had already reached level three—the maximum level.
There should have been no room for further improvement.
If anything, the pitch that still had room to grow was his Spiral Ball.
If he kept refining it, perhaps someday he could even throw a spiral pitch exceeding 160 kilometers per hour.
But no matter how he looked at it, his fastball shouldn't be able to break the 160 mark.
Yet the throw he had just made…
was 163 kilometers per hour.
"I barely recognize myself anymore."
Zhou Hao muttered under his breath.
The current version of him felt strangely unfamiliar—even to himself.
Perhaps his potential hadn't been fully tapped after all.
If it had been, his pitching speed would have surpassed 160 long ago.
There was no way it would have been stuck around 155 kilometers per hour for so long.
And that was even when combining his fastball with the spiral pitch.
"So where exactly was the problem?"
For the first time, Zhou Hao began questioning it seriously.
But this doubt wasn't a bad thing.
If he could figure out the answer, his pitching speed might increase even further.
His overall strength could reach an entirely new level.
Meanwhile, the game continued.
Two outs.
Runner on second.
On the mound, Kawakami finally managed to calm himself down.
Facing the powerhouse Inashiro Industrial High School, the pressure was simply overwhelming.
No ordinary person could truly understand it.
Just how terrifying was Inashiro Industrial's batting lineup?
However—
just as Kawakami steadied himself and threw his first pitch after regaining composure—
The bat connected again.
Ping!
The sixth batter for Inashiro Industrial High School wasn't particularly famous, even within his own team.
But his batting fundamentals were extremely solid.
The bat connected cleanly with the ball, sending it skimming into the field as he dashed toward first base.
At the same moment, the runner on second rounded third and charged toward home.
"Safe!"
Two outs. Runner on first.
Despite the earlier double play, Inashiro Industrial still managed to push across their third run.
The scoreboard now read 3–3.
Behind the plate, Miyuki Kazuya glanced at Kawakami with a trace of sympathy.
The current Seido High School baseball team was completely different from the Seido of the past.
Back then, Seido had lacked a truly dominant pitcher.
But now the team was overflowing with talent—and that meant the internal competition had become brutally intense.
Seido already had a fixed Ace.
That naturally left very few opportunities for the other pitchers.
Now the team had four pitchers competing for playing time.
Which meant that several of their positions were inherently unstable.
And to make matters worse, there was still a first-year rookie pitcher waiting in the wings.
Compared to the others, Kawakami's position was the most precarious.
Today's game was essentially Coach Kataoka's final evaluation for the three competing pitchers.
Anyone who fell behind here…
would likely be eliminated.
As a fellow second-year player, Miyuki couldn't help but feel uneasy thinking about it.
But there was nothing he could do.
As one of the nation's top powerhouse teams—even a national champion—the competition within Seido had always been ruthless.
And it wasn't just Kawakami.
In the upcoming games, everyone will have to show their full strength.
If Kawakami failed to perform today, the consequences for him personally would be severe.
On the mound, Kawakami felt that pressure clearly.
He gritted his teeth and fired the ball from his hand.
Even though he knew his talent and potential couldn't compare to some of his teammates…
Kawakami had come all the way to Seido to pursue baseball.
And he had never once regretted that decision.
Only after standing beside these prodigies had he realized just how small his own strength truly was.
He was destined never to become a player like Zhou Hao—someone who amazed the entire field.
But even so—
he had still managed to become a better version of himself.
"I've worked hard at Seido all this time… never once slacking off!"
Whoosh!
Facing the incoming pitch, Inashiro's seventh batter swung his bat decisively.
Kawakami's performance so far hadn't been impressive.
Nearly every powerful hitter from Inashiro had already made contact.
There was no reason for him to be the exception.
Ping!
But the moment the bat connected with the ball, the seventh batter realized his earlier confidence had been a little premature.
The pitch was trickier than he had expected.
The ball bounced sharply off the ground—
and rolled straight into Yuki Tetsuya's waiting glove.
Snap!
"Out!"
Three outs.
Side retired.
Although they had allowed two runs, Kawakami ultimately held the line and prevented the inning from spiraling further out of control.
The Seido players were satisfied with that result.
The game moved into the bottom of the fourth inning.
Seido's lineup stepped up with a single goal—
to win those two runs back for Kawakami.
For the players of Seido, this kind of situation felt strangely familiar.
Ever since their ace, Zhou Hao, began carrying the team, they hadn't faced such circumstances very often.
But before that…
Seido had spent countless games fighting from behind.
They had chased deficits again and again.
Because they had experienced it so many times, the players had almost grown used to it.
Even now, after so much time had passed, stepping into this situation again felt oddly familiar.
The first batter to step into the box was Miyuki Kazuya.
From the Seido dugout to the stands filled with their supporters, loud chants erupted.
"Hit it!"
"Don't waste this chance!"
"Inashiro's pitcher is already reaching his limit!"
Miyuki raised his bat high, his fighting spirit surging.
He was going to hit this ball.
He had to hit this ball.
But the moment the baseball left Arata's hand—
Miyuki's expression changed.
He swung decisively.
Yet the swing lacked the same confidence as before.
Ping!
The ball bounced sharply off the ground.
Inashiro's third baseman dove forward and snagged it cleanly in his glove.
Snap!
"Out!"
One out. Bases empty.
The Seido players who had just been filled with confidence suddenly felt dizzy.
"This is ridiculous…"
"The difference between his pitching with runners on base and with the bases empty is way too big…"
The result unfolding before them was difficult to accept.
By all logic, this shouldn't have been happening.
But reality didn't care about logic.
Next up, the seventh batter, Masuko, stepped in.
He swung with all his power.
Ping!
The ball rocketed nearly ninety meters into the outfield—just eleven or twelve meters short of clearing the fence.
But close didn't count.
The Inashiro outfielders had been well prepared.
The ball was caught steadily deep in the field.
Snap!
"Out!"
Two outs. Bases empty.
Seido's offense was completely stifled.
They couldn't advance even a single step.
The score remained tied at 3–3.
Next came Shirasu.
But the result was no different.
Ping!
The ball was intercepted cleanly by Inashiro's Shirakawa.
A quick throw to first sealed the final out of the inning.
Snap!
"Out!"
Three outs.
Side retired.
By the end of the fourth inning, the score remained tied 3–3.
Meanwhile, the morale of the Inashiro players continued to rise.
From their perspective, the momentum was clearly shifting in their favor.
Top of the fifth inning.
Inashiro Industrial's offense stepped up to the plate once again.
Their opponent—
was still Kawakami.