Sawamura stayed.
Kawakami left.
He was reassigned to the Second Team as their Ace pitcher.
Even with the third-year seniors soon to graduate, the Second Team of Seido High School was far from weak.
As the team's most important reserve force, their practice games still carried significant training value.
And now, as the Ace of the Second Team, Kawakami would be forced to approach pitching from a completely different perspective.
Perhaps, in this role, his growth would even surpass what he could have achieved in the First String.
Still—
no matter how you looked at it, if given the choice, no one would willingly leave the First String for the Second Team.
Take Sawamura, for example.
Although he had previously trained alongside the First String, without an official jersey number, his status had always been different.
He could feel it himself.
To the second- and third-year players, he had never truly been one of them.
But now, things had changed.
With the Kanto Tournament approaching, the team was going all out in preparation.
Sawamura was no longer just a peripheral member—
he was a legitimate part of the roster, someone who might actually take the field in the Spring Tournament.
And that changed everything.
Because he might play, the coaching staff would now include him in tactical planning.
Sawamura.
Furuya Satoru.
Tanba Koichiro.
The three pitchers had entered a new phase of competition.
Watching their performances in practice, Coach Kataoka and the staff couldn't help but develop a new idea.
Maybe…
they didn't need to rely on a single Ace anymore.
Zhou Hao, as the team's Ace, was undeniably powerful.
With him on the mound, the team had an unshakable sense of security.
But placing all their hopes on one player alone wasn't necessary.
For the sake of the team's future and to ease Zhou Hao's burden—
they could fully implement a relay pitching strategy.
After all, they had the depth for it.
The more they considered it, the more viable it seemed.
If they rotated pitchers strategically, opponents would struggle to prepare.
They wouldn't even know who Seido would send out next.
And if something went wrong?
It didn't matter.
They still had their ultimate stabilizer.
Once he stepped in, everything could be settled.
With that decision in mind, Coach Kataoka began paying closer attention to the pitchers during practice.
In the bullpen—
Now allowed to practice openly, Sawamura Eijun's face flushed with excitement.
"Master, I'm going to pitch!"
Even beyond the coaching staff, Sawamura's performance had begun turning heads.
Chris, too, was starting to see him differently.
"Use your hidden pitch."
At the command, Sawamura didn't hesitate.
He drove his glove forward like a solid wall and unleashed the pitch.
Chris's eyes widened.
Now he understood—
why even the third-years had nearly been overwhelmed that morning.
Sawamura's body was incredibly flexible.
His waist, shoulders, arms—even his wrists—
all moved like a single, flowing whip.
When that "whip" snapped forward, his body and glove completely concealed the motion.
From both the batter's and catcher's perspectives—
the pitch was almost invisible.
By the time it appeared, the ball was already on its way.
"Swoosh!"
The baseball tore through the air.
Even from Chris's position, the speed was undeniable—
easily over 140 km/h.
"Pop!"
The ball slammed into his glove like a flash of light.
And it wasn't just fast.
The pitch had sharp late movement as well.
Chris had originally believed that even if Sawamura made the First String, he would still need time before becoming game-ready.
The Kanto Tournament had seemed out of reach.
At best, he might get a chance during the Summer Tournament.
But now—
that assessment felt completely off.
Based on this pitch alone, Sawamura was already qualified to compete for a spot as a substitute pitcher.
The coaching staff's idea of a relay strategy made even more sense.
With enough of a lead, they could rotate pitchers, not only strengthening the team but also giving others valuable experience.
After all—
if Zhou Hao was on the mound, the chances of opponents making solid contact were incredibly low.
Their Ace only needed to appear in decisive moments.
That alone was enough.
"Again!"
Chris's voice rang out firmly.
In the upcoming Kanto Tournament, Sawamura might become a key contender.
And just as that thought crossed his mind—
Furuya Satoru stepped forward and fired his own pitch.
Unlike Sawamura, whose delivery was unorthodox,
Furuya Satoru's pitching looked like it had been copied straight out of a textbook.
Perfect form. Clean mechanics.
But the moment the ball left his hand—
"Boom!"
Everything changed.
Simple.
Violent.
No tricks, no deception—
just overwhelming speed.
Miyauchi, who was catching, blanked out for a moment.
Too fast!
The ball slammed into his glove—
and then burst right out of it.
He hadn't even managed to secure the catch.
"Sorry, senpai!"
Furuya stood there, his entire body radiating fighting spirit.
It wasn't subtle—it was practically pouring out of him.
Everyone watching could feel it.
A chill crept into their hearts.
The audience observing Seido's practice was no longer limited to loyal supporters.
There were reporters.
Scouts.
Even players sent by other Kanto schools.
Seido's reputation was simply too great.
If you were looking for a team to study—
they were the obvious target.
Even now, just from a glance, players from three or four different schools were present, quietly observing.
And this was only practice.
When Seido actually played a game…
the crowd would be even more overwhelming.
That was exactly why the visiting players felt uneasy.
Watching Seido's bullpen—
they couldn't help but feel a chill.
Zhou Hao, the undisputed number one pitcher in the country, hadn't even stepped up yet.
And already—
their substitute pitchers looked terrifying.
Are they cheating…?
With this level of pitching…
Even if Seido didn't send out their Ace—
could they still win?
The more they thought about it, the heavier their hearts became.
Because the answer they were arriving at—
was too cruel.
"Look! Tanba Koichiro is pitching!"
"What a beautiful arc!"
"It's like a falling star—!"
Tanba's high-drop curveball carved a perfect arc through the air.
From any angle, it was breathtaking.
The three pitchers—
each had their own strengths.
And just as they finished another round of pitches—
Zhou Hao, who had been doing warm-ups, stepped onto the mound.
"Is Zhou Hao going to pitch?"
In an instant, every pair of eyes lit up.
Fans.
Reporters.
Scouts.
No matter how impressive the other three were—
they weren't Zhou Hao.
He was the Ace.
The strongest pitcher in the country.
The Kanto Tournament gathered champions and runners-up from across the region.
Everyone knew how fierce the competition would be.
The teams who came to scout Seido weren't here to admire them.
They had only one goal—
to defeat Seido.
And to do that—
they had to defeat Zhou Hao.
"Get the cameras ready. Record everything!"
Even if this was just practice,
a clear recording could be analyzed frame by frame.
Maybe—
just maybe—
they could find a weakness.
"Are you pitching too?"
Chris looked up, curious.
According to the coach's plan, Zhou Hao could train with rotating catchers later in the indoor facility.
There was no need to pitch now.
Hearing this, the other catchers also looked over.
Although the three current pitchers were impressive—
compared to Zhou Hao, they still fell short.
If given a choice,
they would all prefer to catch for him.
"It's my turn today," Miyuki said calmly.
"This is extra practice, leave it to me," Chris added immediately.
Though the battle for the starting catcher position had ended,
Chris clearly hadn't given up.
He had lost this time—
but not forever.
As a third-year, the Summer Tournament would be his final chance.
And he wasn't someone who feared competition.
"Then I'll leave it to you, senpai," Zhou Hao said.
He stepped onto the mound.
Sawamura's pitching from earlier replayed in his mind.
Zhou Hao took a deep breath—
and calmed himself.
Now wasn't the time to overthink.
He needed clarity.
Stillness.
He adjusted his body to its best condition.
This time—
he didn't plan to rely on the system's skills.
He wanted to feel it for himself.
If he wanted, he could use those abilities to pitch almost perfectly.
He had believed that was the best path.
But—
he had once thrown a pitch exceeding 160 km/h.
A speed he could never reach using those skills alone.
And after seeing Sawamura's performance—
he realized something.
The system's abilities were powerful—
but not absolute.
If he wanted to go further,
he had to break free from those limitations.
His skills had still been improving recently—
so why had his strength plateaued?
He exhaled slowly,
mobilizing every cell in his body.
Chris's glove became his only target.
He lifted his leg high—
just as always.
Yet this time—
something felt different.
Chris felt it immediately.
Zhou Hao—
was like a lion on the verge of unleashing its fury.
He wanted to dominate.
To claim the mound as his territory.
This wasn't just strength.
This was presence.
Authority.
A king's aura.
"Did something change…?"
Chris couldn't help but wonder.
The pressure Zhou Hao radiated now—
was overwhelming.
It felt like—
he was about to break through to an entirely new level.
And as a witness to that moment—
Chris felt his heart race.
"Swoosh!"
His foot came down.
Like a volcano on the brink of eruption—
Zhou Hao unleashed everything.
His arm whipped forward,
all his power concentrated into his fingertips.
"Boom!"
The ball exploded out of his hand.
Chris's eyes widened instantly.
He knew this pitch.
A fastball.
Not the spiral he was famous for.
Not a breaking ball.
Just—
a four-seam fastball.
But—
this wasn't normal.
From this pitch,
Chris felt the same overwhelming pressure as Zhou Hao's spiral.
No—
it might have been even stronger.
That's impossible…
Before he could process it—
the ball was already there.
He opened his glove—
"Pop!"
The ball hit.
He closed his hand instinctively.
But—
it was too fast.
The rebound exceeded his expectations.
The ball burst right out of his glove.
His palm stung instantly.
"My god—"