In high school baseball, the stronger a team is, the more games it plays.
That's simply how elimination tournaments work.
During the Spring Tournament, Seido High School fought all the way to the end and claimed the Tokyo championship.
By the time they finished, it was already close to May.
And May—
was when the Kanto Tournament began.
Right after the May Festival, Seido's players boarded a bus to Kanagawa to compete.
Their first-round opponent—
Kohoku High School.
A nationally recognized powerhouse in its own right, with strong past performances at Koshien.
Unfortunately for them—
their luck had run out.
In the very first round, they drew Seido.
The reporters were thrilled.
In their eyes, a match between two teams of this caliber demanded something memorable.
As for the outcome?
There was little suspense.
Kohoku defeating Seido?
Highly unlikely.
Leaving aside Seido's dominance across the nation last year—
just look at this year's performance.
In the Tokyo Spring Tournament, Seido had consecutively defeated:
Ichidai Sanko.
Teito High School.
And Inashiro Industrial—fresh off a runner-up finish at Koshien.
Their strength was undeniable.
So the fans who came weren't wondering who would win.
They were wondering—
how long Kohoku could last.
After all, this was Kohoku's home ground in Kanagawa.
The atmosphere was bound to be electric.
And it was.
By the time reporters arrived at the stadium, they realized they were already late.
A long line had formed at the entrance.
"If we hadn't reserved seats in advance, we might not have gotten in."
"I didn't expect the opening game to be this crowded."
This wasn't an exaggeration—
the stadium was packed.
And everyone knew why.
Seido High School Baseball Team.
Last autumn, Seido had suffered an unexpected defeat in the Tokyo Tournament.
For a time, their reputation had taken a hit.
But true fans understood the situation.
After all, Seido had just come off a grueling run—
reaching the Koshien finals and winning the championship.
The deeper you go, the more games you play.
And that comes at a cost.
While they were chasing glory, time for rebuilding the new team had been limited.
Naturally, the newly formed squad couldn't reach perfection immediately.
On top of that—
every team had been targeting them.
Under those conditions, their early struggles were understandable.
But everyone knew—
once given time,
Seido would rise again.
And when this year's Spring Tournament began—
they did exactly that.
Seido's loyal supporters stood tall once more.
They had been right.
All Seido needed was an opportunity.
And once they got it—
they shocked everyone.
With each game, their momentum grew.
Until people finally realized—
this team had become unstoppable.
Not just strong—
but incredibly popular.
Right now, Seido was the most talked-about team in high school baseball.
If it had been any other matchup, the Kanto Tournament opener wouldn't have drawn this kind of crowd.
But because it was Seido—
fans flooded in.
"Let's head inside. It'll be impossible to find seats soon."
Five minutes before the game, both teams stepped out of their locker rooms and onto the field.
Seido's players remained calm.
They had experienced grand stages before.
This?
Was nothing new.
At most, it just felt a bit livelier than usual.
But Kohoku's players—
were stunned.
The sheer size of the crowd left them speechless.
"Are we… playing at Seido's home field?"
For a moment, they even doubted whether they were still in Kanagawa.
It wasn't modesty—
it was reality.
They knew their team's drawing power.
Even if all their supporters showed up, they probably wouldn't fill a third of the stadium.
Let alone this.
"Most of these are local fans," someone explained.
"They just haven't cared about watching us before."
"Now that Seido's here, they want to see what a national powerhouse looks like."
That was the truth.
There weren't actually that many die-hard Seido fans present.
Most were neutral spectators from Kanagawa—
but their attention was entirely focused on Seido.
"Did you see Zhou Hao?"
"I did! I did!"
"He's third in line he looks even better in person than in photos!"
"No editing needed at all."
"That jawline is insane…"
Hearing the constant praise for Seido's ace—
and the nation's top high school player—
Kohoku's supporters couldn't help but feel irritated.
They turned their heads, ready to argue.
Do they even realize this is our home game?
Why are they praising the opponent's pitcher like that?
And besides—
from this distance, could they even see his face clearly?
But just as they were about to speak—
they froze.
The group of people making those comments—
were all holding binoculars.
…
The words they were about to say—
were quietly swallowed back down.
Yeah.
There was no arguing with that.
If they didn't say anything, it was fine.
But if they spoke up now—
they would only make themselves look even more ridiculous.
"Seido!"
"Zhou Hao, do your best!"
"We're cheering for you too!"
Even the local fans in Kanagawa were shouting like this.
Let alone the supporters who had traveled all the way from Tokyo—
they looked at Seido's players as if they were rare, legendary treasures.
Their enthusiasm knew no bounds.
In that overwhelming atmosphere—
the game officially began.
"The match between Seido High School of Tokyo and Kohoku High School of Kanagawa will now begin!"
Top of the first inning.
Kohoku on offense.
The order had been decided earlier by a simple game of rock-paper-scissors.
And Seido's starting pitcher—
did not disappoint the expectations of the crowd.
Zhou Hao.
The moment he stepped onto the mound—
the stadium erupted.
The fans reacted as if they had been injected with pure adrenaline.
"I thought Seido might hold back their Ace for later!"
"They've got plenty of strong pitchers, after all."
"As for our team… well…"
The chatter from the stands was loud—unfiltered.
Every word carried clearly into Kohoku's dugout.
And because they heard it so clearly—
their frustration surged.
If not for the situation, they might have jumped up and shouted back:
Whose side are you on?!
Didn't they realize—
Kohoku was also a national-level powerhouse?
Seido didn't overwhelmingly outclass them.
They were supposed to be on equal footing.
This was a battle where both sides should give everything they had.
Unable to vent at the crowd—
they turned their focus elsewhere.
Toward Zhou Hao.
"Get up there and hit!"
"Show Seido what we're made of!"
"Our batting isn't weak!"
"Knock it out of the park!"
The Kohoku players were even more fired up than their own fans.
If not for the rules limiting them—
it looked like they all wanted to step into the batter's box at once.
Watching this, even Kohoku's supporters felt awkward.
This… was embarrassing.
They didn't understand it either.
Why were their own players acting so extreme?
Had they been provoked?
That seemed like the only explanation.
After all—
their opponent was Seido.
A team whose strength they knew all too well.
They had studied them extensively.
So if they still acted like this despite knowing the gap—
wasn't that just reckless?
Being aggressive was one thing.
But blind confidence?
That only made things worse.
Not just for the players—
but for the fans who would have to endure the ridicule later.
Calm down…
They wanted to shout it.
But in the end—
they could only say it silently to themselves.
The game began in earnest.
Kohoku's leadoff batter stepped into the box.
The moment he settled in—
his eyes locked onto Zhou Hao.
He wasn't overly arrogant.
Just… confident enough.
And even that level of confidence meant he wouldn't back down.
So what if he's the best in the country?
Standing on the same field—
they were equals.
Zhou Hao was just Seido's Ace.
His pitches—
weren't untouchable.
There will be an opening.
He believed it firmly.
No pitcher was perfect.
And as a core player of a powerhouse team—
if the ball came his way,
there was only one response.
Swing.
Hit it.
Send it flying.
Just imagining driving Zhou Hao's pitch deep into the field—
was enough to set his blood racing.
In Seido's dugout—
Sawamura suddenly stood up and moved beside the coach.
Coach Kataoka glanced at him, puzzled.
What was this troublemaker planning now?
"This is my first time watching Senior Zhou Hao pitch from the dugout," Sawamura said seriously.
"I want to learn as much as I can."
His tone was so earnest—
it was impossible not to believe him.
Kataoka nodded, clearly satisfied.
Who wouldn't appreciate a player with that kind of attitude?
Whatever minor friction they had in the past—
it didn't matter.
Time revealed everything.
And Kataoka had never truly held it against him.
"Then watch carefully," he said.
"Zhou Hao's pitching… is extraordinary."
Sawamura nodded eagerly.
"…I wonder when I'll get to play."
Behind him—
Tanba and Furuya both narrowed their eyes.
That's going too far.
The coach had already made arrangements—
and yet this guy still wanted more?
Still…
players like that were hard to dislike.
Who wouldn't value a pitcher who actively chased opportunities—
and had the skill to back it up?
Even if the coach hadn't planned to use Sawamura today—
seeing this kind of drive might change things mid-game.
Even Oshima fell into thought.
Had he been too concerned about appearances before?
Otherwise…
shouldn't he have secured a starting position by now?
And just as these thoughts passed through everyone's minds—
Zhou Hao moved.
On the mound—
he began his windup.
Moments earlier, the stadium had been buzzing with noise.
But the instant he released the pitch—
it was as if every voice had been cut off.
Silence fell.
Complete.
Absolute.
"Boom!"
With a thunderous roar—
the baseball exploded from his hand and slammed into Miyuki's mitt.
"Thwack!"
"Strike!!"
A number flashed across the giant scoreboard—
160 km/h.
The stadium froze.
Even Seido's most die-hard supporters—
were stunned.
They had never imagined—
that Zhou Hao could push his fastball past 160 km/h—
just like that.
Everyone stood there,
completely speechless.