The score stood at 9–8.
One out. Runner on first base.
Everyone on the field could see it clearly—the players of Inashiro Industrial High School were desperate to score.
And that desperation was overwhelming.
What made it even more terrifying was what came next.
The upcoming batters were their third, fourth, and fifth hitters—the very core of their lineup.
Any team would stack their strongest batters in these positions.
Take Seido, for example: Zhou Hao, Yuki, and Isashiki Jun.
As a national powerhouse, Inashiro was no different.
The third batter, a burly and powerful third-year, stepped into the batter's box.
He raised his bat high, eyes locked onto Tanba.
By now, he had already seen through Tanba's pitching patterns.
High-drop curveball… that's your weapon.
Fine. Bring it on.
I'll crush it!
On the mound, Tanba didn't hesitate.
He delivered the pitch.
"Whoosh!"
But—
It wasn't a curveball.
It was a fastball.
The third batter instantly recognized the intention.
Trying to disrupt my timing?
Too naive.
In his eyes, Tanba's fastball was nothing more than a meatball.
If the pitcher dared to throw it—
He would punish it.
"You're asking for it!"
With cold determination, he swung.
"Ping!"
The ball was hit.
It bounced sharply off the ground.
But—
The result was completely different from what he expected.
The third batter's eyes widened in shock.
This… this isn't right!
The ball didn't carry. It didn't explode off the bat.
Instead, it became a dangerous grounder.
A double play…?!
For a split second, his blood ran cold.
Are we really going to end it like this?
Fortunately—
Fate hadn't abandoned Inashiro.
The ball's placement worked in their favor.
Seido's shortstop Kuramochi charged forward, fielding it cleanly.
He glanced toward second base—
But Shirakawa was already too close.
There was no time.
"...Tch!"
"Lucky you!"
Kuramochi fired to first instead.
"Snap!"
"Out!"
Two outs.
Runner on second base.
The Inashiro third batter exhaled heavily.
It felt like he had just escaped death.
The rest of the team followed suit.
"It's not over yet!"
"We still have a chance!"
"Survive a disaster, and fortune follows!"
Their confidence surged once more.
"Fourth batter, number two—catcher, Harada Masatoshi!"
Now came the real threat.
The cleanup hitter.
The moment Harada stepped into the batter's box, tension spread across Seido's field.
Everyone knew—
This man could end it with one swing.
Tanba wound up again.
"Whoosh!"
Another fastball.
Harada didn't hesitate.
"Boom!"
To Harada, Tanba's fastball shouldn't have been a problem.
Even if it was good, it wasn't enough to stop elite hitters like him.
But—
Just before contact—
The ball dropped.
Slightly.
But unmistakably.
Harada's eyes sharpened.
That's not a fastball…
It's a—
Forkball!
Only now did Harada understand.
Why the third batter had been fooled.
Why the earlier contact had been so weak.
Tanba hadn't relied on brute strength.
He had evolved.
A substitute player.
An upperclassman overshadowed by an ace.
Most would have given up.
But not Tanba.
Just like Arata on their side—
He had continued to push forward.
Relentlessly improving.
Even without the spotlight.
Harada tightened his grip on the bat.
His eyes burned with intensity.
If he were at full stamina… even Carlos and Shirakawa might not have touched him.
That thought sent a chill through him.
But—
It was too late to hesitate now.
Once the arrow leaves the bow—
There is no turning back.
By the time Harada realized it—
It was already too late to pull back his bat.
If he made normal contact, the ball would likely become another infield grounder.
That was unacceptable.
Gritting his teeth, Harada poured even more strength into his swing.
Even if he couldn't hit the sweet spot—
He would force the ball through.
"Ping!"
The baseball shot off the bat.
It didn't rise high—barely two meters off the ground—
But it tore forward with unstoppable momentum.
Masuko at third reacted instantly, taking quick steps to intercept.
But—
By the time he stretched out his glove—
The ball had already slipped past him.
"It got through!"
Once it passed third base—
There was no stopping it.
The Inashiro players and fans exploded with excitement.
They knew exactly what this hit meant.
Shirakawa, already prepared on second base, broke into a full sprint the moment the ball touched down.
Third base—
No hesitation.
He dashed straight for home.
Seido reacted quickly—
But not quickly enough.
"Snap!"
"Safe!!"
"Inashiro Industrial High School scores their ninth run!"
The scoreboard changed:
9 – 9
Tie game.
Harada advanced to second.
Two outs, runner on second base.
The Inashiro side erupted.
They had done it.
Even against the reigning kings—Seido High School—
They had matched them blow for blow.
This wasn't luck.
This was earned.
Their bats had proven it.
Confidence surged through every player.
We can win.
"Leave it to me!"
With two outs and a runner on second—
Narumiya Mei stepped into the batter's box.
He waved to the crowd like a general surveying his army.
The stands roared his name.
From his posture alone, it seemed the outcome was already decided.
To him, Tanba's improvement meant little.
A forkball?
That alone wasn't enough to trouble him.
The earlier batters had simply been caught off guard.
But he was different.
He was a prodigy.
No matter what pitch came—
He would crush it.
"Whoosh!"
The pitch came in.
Narumiya stepped in and swung with full force.
"Fly out of here!"
"Ping!"
The moment of contact—
His expression changed.
This isn't right…
Fastball!!
He realized it too late.
This wasn't just Tanba's doing—
Miyuki Kazuya was behind it all.
They had read him perfectly.
The ball bounced off the ground.
Tanba fielded it cleanly.
A quick throw—
"Out!"
Three outs.
Side retired.
Despite giving up runs, Tanba walked off the mound to approving eyes.
He had done his job.
Against a lineup like Inashiro's—
Holding them here was enough.
The standards for an ace and a relief pitcher were different.
And by those standards—
Tanba had delivered.
Score: 9 – 9
Bottom of the ninth.
Seido at bat.
"Third batter, number one—Outfielder, Zhou Hao!"
The stadium buzzed instantly.
This was it.
The moment.
Inashiro had already switched pitchers.
A substitute stood on the mound—
Not weak, but not Arata.
Still, facing Seido's lineup, even holding them to this point was impressive.
The Inashiro pitcher hesitated.
He glanced toward the dugout.
Do we face him… or walk him?
Coach Kunimoto gave no clear answer.
Because the truth was obvious—
Facing Zhou Hao head-on was dangerous.
But walking him brought its own nightmare.
Behind him were Yuki, Isashiki Jun, and Miyuki.
Avoidance solved nothing.
The pitcher chose a middle ground.
Aggressive outside pitches.
"Whoosh!"
"Ball!"
"Ball!!"
"Ball!!!"
Three straight balls.
Zhou Hao didn't swing once.
Everything was under control.
Fourth pitch.
"Whoosh!"
The pitcher froze the moment the ball left his hand.
It slipped.
Instead of drifting far outside—
It tailed back in.
Right into the strike zone.
Harada's eyes widened.
Zhou Hao saw it clearly.
A gift.
I don't know what you're doing…
But I'll take it.
He stepped forward.
Twisted his body.
And swung.
"BOOM!"
"PING!!!"
The crack echoed across the stadium.
The baseball soared high—
Higher—
Farther—
Over a hundred meters—
Walk-off
Under tens of thousands of stunned gazes—
The ball landed deep in the outfield stands.
Gone.
GAME OVER
Seido High School Baseball Team—
Walk-off victory.