Perhaps, in the eyes of others, Zhou Hao had already reached perfection.
But he knew the truth.
It wasn't enough, not even close.
The stronger a person became, the more intense their desire for power grew.
No matter how others saw it…
Zhou Hao had always believed this and that belief had never changed.
Even now, when he had already become something like a nightmare in the eyes of others…
He had never once thought of stopping.
His Sharingan had reached a bottleneck.
If he wanted to take the next step to awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan.
He needed an opportunity.
The same applied to his pitching.
His fastball, Spiral Ball, and the breaking pitches derived from the Uchiha style—
All had reached Level Three.
Yet none had broken through any further.
Zhou Hao understood this clearly:
Relying solely on system rewards would never be enough.
If he wanted a true breakthrough…
He had to find it himself.
He had already begun experimenting watching professional games, studying legendary pitchers, analyzing every detail of their mechanics.
For that, he was even grateful for the modern internet.
He had gathered plenty of information and formed many rough ideas.
But ideas alone weren't enough.
He still hadn't found the crucial thread to tie everything together.
And then—
Without warning—
He saw it.
The possibility of his next step… in Sawamura Eijun.
Zhou Hao's gaze locked onto him.
He watched as Sawamura's arm snapped forward like a whip, releasing the ball.
Swoosh!
The baseball tore through the air.
With the release point completely hidden, the pitch looked even faster from the batter's box than it actually was.
Oshima, standing at the plate, pressed his lips tightly together.
A prodigy of the field—a true power hitter—
Yet at that moment, his scalp tingled.
The hairs on his body stood on end.
This wasn't fear.
It was excitement.
From a fellow first-year… he felt a genuine threat.
"The surprises just keep coming…"
When he first chose Seidou, Oshima thought there was only one person he needed to surpass—
Zhou Hao.
But now…
It wasn't just Yuki-senpai.
Even the two monsters in his own year couldn't be underestimated.
Furuya Satoru's pitching carried an overwhelming, tyrannical force.
A first-year throwing 150 km/h—
Just thinking about it was enough to make anyone shudder.
And now—
Sawamura Eijun presented something entirely different.
Like a dagger hidden in an assassin's hand.
By the time you noticed it—
It was already too late.
The baseball flashed past Oshima's eyes like white lightning.
His body reacted instinctively—
But he forcefully suppressed the urge to swing, staring as the pitch passed.
Pop!
"Strike!"
The pitcher jumped ahead in the count.
On the sidelines, Seidou's players exchanged uneasy glances.
"Is it just me… or has Sawamura gotten faster?"
"He might be touching 140."
"No way. He was barely in the low 130s before."
Disbelief spread among them.
But Zhou Hao, observing everything through his Sharingan, saw it more clearly than anyone.
Every detail of Sawamura's motion was broken down before his eyes.
Instinctively, he began comparing it to his own.
"…A child of destiny."
To utilize every part of the body so perfectly—
It was almost absurd.
A memory surfaced.
Back then, everyone thought Sawamura's velocity was lacking.
Even Miyuki had pointed it out.
But in just one year—
He had pushed it up to 140 km/h.
That kind of growth was terrifying.
He had started at the very bottom among high school pitchers.
Yet by his second year, he had already reached the upper-middle tier.
At that rate—
By the summer of his third year, even if he didn't hit 150…
He would easily surpass 145 km/h.
That alone would place him among the elite.
And with his moving fastball and hidden release point—
Sawamura Eijun would become something truly monstrous.
And that wasn't all.
He would later develop his signature "Numbers"—
A full arsenal of unique breaking balls.
The king of breaking pitches on the mound.
Even with the Sharingan…
Even with his ability to replicate countless techniques—
Zhou Hao knew one thing for certain:
When it came to breaking balls alone…
He might never surpass Sawamura.
His own strengths lay elsewhere—
The Spiral Ball.
Velocity.
And his personal arsenal.
"…What a harvest."
Standing to the side, Zhou Hao's eyes gleamed with anticipation.
His body trembled ever so slightly.
For so long, he had been stuck at a bottleneck—
Unable to find a path forward.
But now—
That path had appeared.
If he could seize this chance…
He would take another step forward.
And finally—
Throw a truly perfect pitch.
Meanwhile, the one who felt Sawamura's transformation most clearly—
Was Oshima at the plate.
Facing it directly was nothing like watching from the dugout.
The arrogance that once surrounded him had completely vanished.
Relying on the instincts of an elite player, he understood one thing:
Sawamura, at this moment, was no weaker than him.
If he wanted to win this matchup—
It would be far more difficult than he had imagined.
He would need to give more than his full focus.
He would need to treat this as a battle against his strongest opponent.
"Someone this good… and I've never even heard his name in middle school?"
And then there was Furuya Satoru.
To Oshima, it made no sense.
With their level of talent, whether in senior league or regular middle school baseball—
They should have stood out long ago.
They were too outstanding to remain hidden.
Just where had Seidou found these two monsters?
Fortunately, their future wasn't something he needed to worry about.
Because even as teammates—
They were also rivals.
And that rivalry was ruthless.
Just like now—
Standing in the batter's box, Oshima Shin had no intention of losing to Sawamura.
The pitch looked like it exceeded 140 km/h—
But in reality, it was closer to 135.
The hidden release point created the illusion.
Realizing this, Oshima made his decision.
He would wait until the ball came deep into his zone—
Then swing.
An ordinary batter couldn't do that.
But Oshima Shin wasn't ordinary.
At that speed, he could afford to wait.
The aura around him shifted.
Miyuki, crouched behind the plate, was the first to notice.
A quiet sigh escaped him.
The freshmen recruited this year were anything but ordinary.
Especially these three—Oshima, Furuya Satoru, and Sawamura.
They didn't need years to grow into their potential. Even now, they already had the strength to secure their place on Seido's roster.
And their ceilings were even higher.
In time, they would surely become players who could shake the entire high school baseball world.
Something to look forward to… but we can't afford to fall behind either.
The Jerk Pitch won't work. He's ready for it.
Oshima can step in and swing… so we'll settle this with a fastball.
Sawamura's Jerk Pitch still needed refinement. Against batters like Oshima and Masuko, it simply wasn't reliable enough yet.
Seeing the sign from Miyuki—
Sawamura nodded without hesitation.
A fastball duel?
That was exactly what he wanted.
"Swoosh!"
With a full, decisive motion, Sawamura delivered the pitch.
The ball shot toward the plate in an instant.
Oshima was ready.
But the pitch rode tight along the inside corner too dangerous to swing at recklessly.
He could only watch it flash past.
"Pop!"
"Strike!"
Two strikes, back-to-back.
Sawamura now held a commanding advantage.
Yet Oshima showed no frustration.
Instead, he stared at Sawamura with disbelief.
That bold…?
He was certain Sawamura's control wasn't that precise yet. That last pitch had to be luck just an ordinary inside throw that happened to hit the mark.
There was no way he could do it twice.
But with two strikes against him, Oshima had no room left to retreat.
No matter what came next—
As long as it might enter the strike zone, he had to swing.
Then I'll gamble!
Every great player had the courage to risk everything.
Otherwise, they'd only be controlled by their opponent.
Oshima raised his bat high, eyes locked on Sawamura, waiting.
Behind the plate, Miyuki couldn't help but sigh again.
These first-years were terrifying.
Take Oshima—right now, his presence seemed to cover the entire strike zone.
Anywhere inside it…
He could hit.
What a scary kid.
Miyuki subtly shifted his glove.
Then we aim here.
He didn't know if Sawamura could hit that exact spot.
But it was worth the gamble.
On the mound, Sawamura saw the target—
and threw without a second thought.
"Swoosh!"
Every movement flowed naturally, his body working in perfect sync.
The pitch fired out.
Oshima froze for a split second.
Inside high!
The ball came in tight, almost brushing against his chest.
His powerful build, usually an advantage, became a weakness in that moment.
With his chest in the way, pulling the bat back for such a pitch was extremely difficult.
If he hadn't been cornered, he would never have swung.
But he had no choice.
Twisting his body, he forced the swing.
"Ping!"
The ball shot forward only seven or eight meters before bouncing weakly off the ground.
"Pop!"
At that moment, every Seido player knew—
it was over.
Though, truthfully, none of them had seen enough.
Zhou Hao charged forward, scooping up the ball cleanly before firing it to first.
"Pop!"
"Out!"
Two outs. Runner on second.
The duel between Sawamura and Kawakami was decided.
There was no question about performance—
Sawamura had completely dominated.
As for the result…
Coach Kataoka and the staff already had their answer.
Kawakami had given up two hits.
Sawamura had allowed only one.
Standing on the field, Kataoka removed his helmet, his gaze fixed on Sawamura, deep in thought.
If Masuko hadn't been Sawamura's roommate…
If he hadn't prepared in advance and caught him off guard…
This first-year might have torn straight through the entire lineup.
Even without their two core players, Seido's lineup was still among the strongest in the country.
And yet—
this result.
Unbelievable.
"Sawamura Eijun…"
His learning ability.
His rate of improvement.
Both were astonishing.
Kataoka didn't announce the result immediately, saying it would be discussed later.
But everyone already knew.
There was nothing left to debate.
He simply didn't want to embarrass anyone.
Sure enough—
That night, after extra practice, just before lights out…
Manager Ota arrived with the decision.
"Sawamura stays. His jersey number will be changed to 20."
One change set off a chain reaction.
With Kawakami leaving, the bench numbers were reshuffled across the team like a quiet reset.
As for the starting catcher position—
it remained with second-year Miyuki Kazuya.
Chris had performed well no less impressive than Miyuki.
Especially when it came to rallying the team, he had his own strengths.
But in the end, results spoke louder than anything.
Miyuki had won.
And throughout the game, his calls had been flawless.
With no mistakes—and no clear reason to replace him—
Coach Kataoka and the staff had no reason to make a change.