The Kanto Tournament finals—
The long-awaited showdown between Seido High School and Inashiro Industrial had officially begun.
The moment the two teams stepped onto the field, the atmosphere in the stadium instantly exploded.
"Seido! Seido!!"
"Inashiro! Inashiro!!"
Supporters from both sides shouted at the top of their lungs, refusing to back down even slightly.
It was as if the louder side would gain the upper hand before the game even started.
Many neutral spectators who had specifically come to watch this match couldn't help widening their eyes in surprise.
"The atmosphere is actually evenly matched?"
Before the game began, most people had assumed Seido would completely dominate the stands.
After all, Seido High School was currently recognized as the strongest powerhouse in the nation.
But reality proved otherwise.
"You don't understand," one veteran fan explained with a laugh.
"Seido's supporters are already confident enough. Whether they come or not mostly depends on their schedule and mood. Even against Inashiro, they aren't that obsessed."
"But Inashiro's fans are different."
"They're terrified their team might lose momentum if they don't show up."
"And that's something they absolutely cannot accept."
To put it bluntly—
The current Seido High School Baseball Team had already become the mountain Inashiro Industrial desperately needed to overcome.
Last autumn, Inashiro had defeated Seido once.
But this spring, Seido returned the favor.
After both teams rebuilt their new rosters, the rivalry stood evenly at one win and one loss.
On top of that, Inashiro had also claimed runner-up at Spring Koshien.
From an outsider's perspective, there wasn't much difference between the two teams anymore.
Both were clearly among the strongest teams in the nation.
Both were evenly matched rivals unwilling to yield an inch.
But the players and supporters of Inashiro Industrial themselves didn't see it that way.
They knew better than anyone that their victory last autumn had carried a certain amount of luck.
And during the spring meeting between the two schools, even without the Aces taking the mound, Inashiro had still fallen slightly behind Seido in overall strength.
That reality weighed heavily on them.
In their hearts, Seido was already standing one step above them.
And if they wanted to overturn that perception—
They had to defeat Seido head-on.
The fans couldn't help directly on the field.
That responsibility belonged to the players.
But outside the field?
They absolutely refused to lose.
Especially not in terms of momentum.
As one of the most important factors influencing the atmosphere of a game, how could Inashiro's cheering squad allow themselves to be overwhelmed by Seido?
The Inashiro players quickly understood the feelings of their supporters.
One by one, their eyes reddened with excitement.
Even Coach Kunimoto, who was usually calm and stern, seemed moved by the determination of the crowd.
He gave a small nod toward his players.
"Take the field."
On the opposite side, Coach Kataoka gave the exact same order.
"Take the field!"
Everything that needed to be said had already been discussed beforehand.
At this point, all that remained was for the players themselves to decide the outcome on the field.
Both coaches trusted their teams completely.
And because of that trust, they were willing to hand the game over to the players.
The athletes standing on the field would not disappoint them.
"Please take care of us!"
"Please take care of us!!"
The players from both teams gathered at midfield and bowed respectfully toward one another.
But the moment they raised their heads—
The air between them instantly became tense.
Even before the first pitch, sparks were already flying.
"The West Tokyo Derby…"
"It's these two teams again."
"To be honest, Inashiro Industrial is pretty unlucky."
Despite being one of the strongest teams in the nation, they constantly found themselves blocked by Seido.
But another spectator immediately shook his head.
"Unlucky? Not at all."
"They defeated Seido last autumn."
"And they were runner-up at Spring Koshien."
"Inashiro isn't some tragic loser. They're one of the few teams capable of fighting Seido on equal footing."
A true rival.
A powerhouse worthy of standing on the same stage as Seido High School.
"The Kanto Tournament finals between Seido High School and Inashiro Industrial have officially begun!"
Top of the first inning.
Inashiro Industrial was up to bat.
The first batter stepping into the box was their leadoff hitter—
Outfielder Carlos.
Carlos possessed mixed heritage, combining the explosive physical ability of a Black athlete with a sharp and calculating baseball mind.
The moment he stepped into the batter's box and looked toward the mound, his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Zhou Hao…"
"I've been waiting for this."
For Inashiro's core players, figuring out how to defeat Zhou Hao had become a mandatory assignment.
And Coach Kunimoto had given them tremendous freedom regarding that issue.
He didn't care what methods they used.
As long as they could hit Zhou Hao's pitches.
As long as it wasn't against the rules, everything was permitted.
That freedom allowed Inashiro's talented players to fully unleash their creativity.
Carlos himself had devoted countless hours to preparing for Zhou Hao's Fastball and Spiral Ball.
Every single day, he trained his eyes relentlessly.
Inashiro's training facilities were among the best in the country, and their pitching machines could simulate pitches reaching 160 kilometers per hour.
Hitting that kind of velocity was unbelievably difficult.
Only after countless repetitions had Carlos gradually adapted.
Although he still couldn't guarantee solid contact every time, as long as the ball entered his hitting zone, he now had confidence he could react.
"I've stared at 160-kilometer fastballs every day for this exact moment…"
"Come on!"
"Whether it's your Fastball or your Spiral Ball, I'll hit it!"
At that moment, Carlos resembled a student who had stayed up all night memorizing answers for an exam.
Everything he had done until now was for today.
On the mound, Zhou Hao slowly raised his leg high into the air before stepping down powerfully.
As his center of gravity shifted forward, the baseball shot out of his hand.
Whoosh!
The ball screamed toward home plate.
Carlos, who believed he was fully prepared, suddenly froze.
Not because the pitch was faster than expected—
But because it was unbelievably slow.
The ball drifted toward him far more slowly than he had imagined.
Carlos waited…
And waited…
Only for the baseball to arrive much later than anticipated.
"How is it this slow?!"
Completely caught off guard, Carlos failed to swing entirely.
He could only watch helplessly as the baseball crossed the plate.
Pop!
"Strike!"
Zhou Hao opened the game with a strike.
Inside Inashiro Industrial's dugout, the expressions of the players immediately turned grave.
Zhou Hao suddenly throwing such an unusually slow pitch—
No one believed it was a coincidence.
As the number one-ranked pitcher in the country, Zhou Hao possessed not only terrifying pitching ability but also an incredibly calm and calculated mentality.
Every pitch he threw had meaning behind it.
There was no way he would casually expose a weakness.
Before the Inashiro players could fully process what had just happened, Zhou Hao delivered his second pitch.
And this one was even slower than the first.
Whoosh!
Watching the baseball drift toward him, Carlos desperately suppressed the urge to swing.
The opponent standing on the mound was Zhou Hao.
There was no way his pitch contained such an obvious flaw.
If it looked hittable, then it was almost certainly bait.
Zhou Hao was waiting for him to swing.
Having reached that conclusion, Carlos forced himself to remain still.
Once again, he watched the baseball pass in front of his eyes.
Pop!
The ball settled cleanly into Miyuki's glove.
"Strike!"
Two strikes. No balls.
In an instant, Carlos was pushed into a corner.
The Inashiro supporters in the stands were completely dumbfounded.
In their memories, Carlos had always been an extremely aggressive batter.
Yet now he stood there holding the bat without even attempting to swing.
"What is he doing?"
"That pitch was so slow even I could hit it!"
"Swing already!"
Complaints erupted from the stands.
Carlos naturally heard all of them.
But he ignored every single word.
Those spectators had never stood in the batter's box facing Zhou Hao directly.
Only he understood the pressure.
How could Zhou Hao's slow pitches possibly be that simple?
What frustrated Carlos most was the fact that all his preparations had become meaningless.
He had spent countless hours adapting himself to Zhou Hao's Fastball.
Yet Zhou Hao hadn't thrown a single fast pitch.
Not once.
Carlos clenched his bat tighter.
No matter what happened next, he had to commit to the third pitch.
He had to predict it in advance.
"Will it be that strange Breaking Ball?"
Just as the thought flashed through his mind, Zhou Hao moved.
With the Sharingan activated, Zhou Hao unleashed his signature Uchiha-style Breaking Ball.
Whoosh!
The white baseball sliced through the air.
The moment Carlos saw the pitch, the tension in his chest finally eased slightly.
So his guess had been right.
Zhou Hao had changed his pitching pattern this time.
He was relying on Breaking Balls.
Although the adjustment caught Carlos off guard, he was still one of Inashiro Industrial's core stars.
His reaction speed and adaptability were among the best in the country.
The instant the ball entered his hitting zone, Carlos swung without hesitation.
HUM!
The bat cut through the air with tremendous force.
Behind home plate, Miyuki Kazuya narrowed his eyes.
Although Carlos didn't possess an especially bulky physique, his swing power was incredible.
If he made perfect contact, the ball might even leave the stadium.
Just as that thought crossed Miyuki's mind—
The bat and baseball crossed paths.
Pop!
The bat hit nothing but air.
The baseball slipped past the swing and buried itself cleanly into Miyuki's mitt.
"Strike!"
"Strikeout!!"
One out. Bases empty.
When Carlos returned to the dugout, every Inashiro player immediately stared at him.
"What happened?"
No one understood how he had missed.
Carlos could only smile bitterly.
He had no way to explain it.
Because from his perspective, the moment he believed the third pitch was completely within his grasp—
The baseball vanished.
Right before his bat could touch it, it disappeared without warning.
Inashiro had analyzed this phenomenon before.
They believed Zhou Hao's vanishing Breaking Ball entered the hitter's visual blind spot at the perfect angle.
But even knowing that theory didn't make it any less absurd.
Every core player on Inashiro's roster was a baseball genius.
Their eyesight and reaction speed were exceptional.
So how could a baseball simply disappear from view?
Carlos couldn't understand it.
And because he couldn't understand it, he couldn't offer his teammates any useful advice either.
All he could do was let them experience it themselves.
Perhaps what they saw would differ from what he saw.
"Second batter, shortstop, Shirakawa!"
The next batter stepping into the box was another of Inashiro's star players.
Ironically, he was also one of the players most helpless against Zhou Hao's pitching.
Shirakawa's greatest weapons were technique and precision.
But in terms of raw physical ability and strength, he simply couldn't compare to hitters capable of overpowering elite pitching.
Standing in the batter's box now, his heartbeat accelerated uncontrollably.
"You're going to throw a Fastball against me, right?"
"You definitely will…"
After all, technical Breaking Balls were precisely the type of pitch Shirakawa excelled at hitting.
Just as he was thinking that, Zhou Hao threw the ball.
Whoosh!
The pitching rhythm and motion were exactly the same as before.
The instant Shirakawa recognized the approaching pitch, his heart nearly jumped into his throat.
Another slow ball.
Which meant—
Another Breaking Ball.
If Zhou Hao used a Fastball or Spiral Ball, Shirakawa would have almost no chance and could only give up.
But a Breaking Ball?
That was his specialty.
In that case, he absolutely had to swing.
Still, Shirakawa remained cautious.
He carefully observed two pitches first.
Only when Zhou Hao delivered the third pitch did a sharp glint flash through his eyes.
This was the one.
Without hesitation, Shirakawa swung.
His eyes locked firmly onto the incoming baseball.
He was absolutely certain this time.
He would definitely make contact.
As for what happened after the hit—
That could come later.
At the very least, connecting with the pitch would already be a success.
Everything in Shirakawa's mind was perfectly planned out.
But reality completely betrayed him.
Just as his bat was about to touch the ball—
The white baseball suddenly disappeared.
"Where did it go?!"
Such a large baseball had vanished right in front of him.
Before Shirakawa could react, he heard the sharp sound of the ball crashing into the catcher's glove.
Pop!
"Strike!"
"Strikeout!!"
Two outs. Bases empty.
The entire Inashiro bench fell silent.
Even the supporters in the stands stared blankly at the field.
Why…
Why did Zhou Hao's slow Breaking Ball produce such a terrifying effect?