After the victory celebration, the Seido High School Baseball Team didn't get a moment to relax.
By winning the Spring Tournament, they had secured the number one seed for the Kanto Tournament.
And with that honor came pressure.
Aside from preparing for the upcoming competition…
They also had to deal with a constant stream of interviews and cooperate with the organizers' publicity efforts.
Cameras followed them almost every day.
Being a national powerhouse came with privileges—
But also responsibilities.
Under these circumstances, any adjustments, strategies, or special preparations Seido wanted to make…
Had to be carried out under public scrutiny.
And the question was—
Could they still achieve the results they wanted while being watched so closely?
No one could say for sure.
After careful consideration, Coach Kataoka came up with a plan.
Daytime training would proceed as usual—for the cameras.
And at night…
They would conduct their real, closed-door practice.
At this moment, the team's most urgent issue was clear:
The pitcher lineup.
Inside Coach Kataoka's office, a small note lay on his desk.
Only two names were written on it.
Kawakami.
Sawamura.
The choice between them had yet to be made.
Elsewhere, a group of first-year players gathered together, still wide awake despite the late hour.
"I've discovered something incredible!"
Kanemaru announced dramatically, spreading his arms wide.
"What is it?"
The others leaned in, curious.
"I finally figured out why the upperclassmen are so much stronger than us!"
At that, the first-years fell silent.
Because deep down…
They already agreed.
They had experienced it firsthand.
When they scrimmaged against the Second String, they had been completely overwhelmed.
Aside from the brief innings when Zhou Hao personally guided them—
They had stood no chance against the second- and third-year players.
Even now, that crushing defeat lingered in their minds.
It was more than just a loss—
It had left a psychological mark.
So when Kanemaru claimed he had found the "secret,"
They couldn't help but be intrigued.
"How did they get so strong?"
"If we know the reason, can we catch up too?"
Kanemaru grinned.
"Follow me."
He led the group toward the field.
The lights were still on.
Though dimmer than during the day, visibility wasn't an issue.
And then—
They saw it.
Under the night lights, the second- and third-year players were still training.
Sweat poured down their bodies as they pushed themselves to the limit.
"Oh my god…"
"The daytime training was already brutal how are they still going?"
"Their workload is at least one and a half times ours…"
"And they're doing extra practice on top of that?"
The first-years were stunned.
Because their own training had already been exhausting enough.
Every day, they collapsed into bed the moment they returned to the dorms.
They had never even thought about coming back out at night.
But now—
Seeing this scene with their own eyes…
They finally understood.
The meaning behind Seido's motto:
Who sweats the most?
Seido!
Whether during their struggles or their rise to dominance—
Seido's strength had never come from empty words.
It came from effort.
Relentless, undeniable effort.
"This… is where their confidence comes from," someone murmured.
"Then we can't afford to slack off either!"
"…Easy for you to say. I feel like my bones are about to fall apart."
Even so—
Something had changed.
A spark had been lit.
On the second floor, Coach Kataoka stood by the window, silently watching the field below.
The office lights behind him cast a faint glow.
His gaze was fixed on the players still training late into the night.
Seido valued fairness above all.
Even if he personally favored Kawakami's stability—
When it came time to decide, the rules would not change.
The strong advance.
The weak fall back.
"Manager Ota," Kataoka said calmly, "have Kawakami and the others prepare."
Ota hesitated.
"Kawakami's performance has been excellent," he argued. "He may struggle a bit against powerhouse teams, but in terms of stability… he's the best we have."
Furuya Satoru and Tanba had undeniable power.
But consistency?
In that regard, Kawakami stood above them.
Ota was confident enough to stake his reputation on it.
Coach Kataoka said nothing at first.
Instead, he looked out toward the far corner of the field.
There—
Sawamura was running, dragging a heavy tire behind him.
Step after step.
Without stopping.
Kataoka's voice was calm, but firm.
"I'm not eliminating him outright."
"Let him compete with Sawamura."
Seido couldn't carry more than four pitchers.
That was already the limit.
Which meant—
If Sawamura wanted to remain on the First String…
Someone else would have to step down.
The candidate had already been decided after the last game.
Kawakami.
Of course—
As a newcomer, Sawamura Eijun had no established track record.
If they wanted everyone to accept the decision, there had to be a proper test.
Normally, that kind of evaluation would take place in an official match.
But Sawamura didn't even have the qualification to step onto that stage yet.
So—
A private selection was the only option.
The next question was simple:
Who would test them?
The answer had to be strong opponents.
Strong enough to expose everything.
Although Manager Ota still felt reluctant…
He understood that this was already the best possible solution.
Without hesitation, he began notifying the selected participants.
Aside from the two pitchers—
Six batters were chosen.
And not just any batters.
Every single one of them was a core player, carefully picked for both skill and consistency.
If anyone could truly test a pitcher's level—
It was them.
In the Seido dormitory, the moment the list was announced—
Zhou Hao frowned.
All the top batters had been selected.
Every single one of them.
Except him.
"Manager, I want in too."
The moment Ota heard that, his heart skipped a beat.
"Absolutely not!"
Anyone else would have been fine—
But not Zhou Hao.
If he stepped into the batter's box, what kind of result would they get?
Everyone already knew the answer.
At that point, it wouldn't be a test anymore.
It would just be pressure.
They were selecting a pitcher—
Not destroying one.
Hearing the firm rejection—
Sawamura and Kawakami both let out quiet sighs of relief.
No matter how they usually got along with Zhou Hao…
Facing him on the field was a completely different story.
Last year, his batting was already terrifying—
He had the highest hit rate in the country.
This year?
He had become even more monstrous.
Home runs came one after another.
In just the last three games, he had hit eight.
Eight.
If not for his low home run count in previous years—
He would have already been climbing the national rankings.
At this rate, everyone believed one thing without a doubt—
Sooner or later, Zhou Hao's name would appear among the home run leaders.
That belief came from two sources:
Confidence in Zhou Hao.
And confidence in Seido itself.
Early the next morning, after warm-ups, the team completed their usual running and batting drills.
Practice ended twenty minutes early.
All players gathered around the field.
Today—
They would witness a rare showdown.
Kawakami vs. Sawamura.
The reporters hadn't arrived yet.
They rarely showed up this early, preferring afternoon interviews.
Which made this the perfect opportunity.
A fair, uninterrupted duel.
But fairness didn't mean mercy.
For the two pitchers about to step onto the mound—
This was brutal.
Six elite batters.
Plus the First String defense behind them.
Even Yuki stood firmly at first base.
Chris and Miyuki Kazuya would handle pitch-calling for Kawakami and Sawamura respectively.
It wasn't just a test of pitchers.
It was also, quietly—
A test of catchers.
Coach Kataoka still hadn't made up his mind.
"Can I play?"
Zhou Hao's voice suddenly cut in.
Watching from the sidelines clearly wasn't enough for him.
Even if he couldn't bat—
Playing defense would do.
Coach Kataoka glanced at him.
"What position?"
"Shortstop."
The substitute shortstop froze on the spot.
For so long, Kuramochi's durability had left him with no chance to play.
Now that an opportunity had finally come—
It was about to be taken away.
Naturally, he felt unwilling.
But at the same time…
He couldn't deny the sense of relief creeping in.
Even if this wasn't their test—
If he performed poorly here, Coach Kataoka wouldn't hesitate to make adjustments.
"…Fine."
After a brief pause, Kataoka agreed.
The surrounding players widened their eyes in disbelief.
Their coach was never easy to negotiate with.
Yet Zhou Hao's request had been accepted so simply.
"As expected of Senior Zhou Hao…"
"If you were that good, you'd get the same treatment."
Everyone understood.
This wasn't favoritism—
It was privilege earned through strength.
If you had the ability, you stood at the center.
If you didn't—
You endured.
With everything set, Kawakami stepped onto the field first.
Chris walked beside him.
Before the match began, Chris spoke quietly.
"Do you think your chances of winning are low?"
Kawakami didn't answer.
But the silence said enough.
Most people had already made up their minds.
If someone had to be cut—
It would be him.
Sawamura's growth had been explosive.
After training under Zhou Hao, his progress was almost unnatural.
Like he had skipped several stages entirely.
Even without First String experience—
His performance in games and practice made one thing clear:
He had potential.
Real, game-changing potential.
None of Seido's substitute pitchers were truly stable.
But with all three of them together—
Zhou Hao could afford to relax.
At some point, without realizing it—
The team had begun to see Zhou Hao as their anchor.
As long as he was there,
No amount of instability could shake them.
That was the reality Kawakami was facing.
"But I don't see it that way," Chris continued calmly.
"Sawamura has talent, yes. But that doesn't mean the one who gets cut has to be you."
Kawakami froze.
He looked at Chris, disbelief written all over his face.
Did… Chris really think that highly of him?
Nearby, Miyuki, who wasn't taking the field yet, clicked his tongue.
"Senior Chris really knows how to motivate people…"
In the previous game against Inashiro—
Both Furuya and Tanba had shown flaws.
But they had also proven they could stand against top-tier opponents.
Kawakami…
Hadn't.
That much was obvious to everyone.
His performance hadn't matched Seido's standard.
This duel—
Was his true test.
Facing this lineup, after such a blow—
Could he even survive two rounds?
No one knew.
And yet—
With just a few words,
Chris had reignited something inside him.
That alone proved—
Chris was no ordinary player.
"Master really is amazing! Even Senior Zhou Hao said so!"
Sawamura nodded vigorously, full of admiration.