"Nice pitch! That's the way!"
At first base, Yuki Tetsuya clapped loudly, cheering for his junior.
"Three straight inside corners… savage."
Kominato Ryosuke smiled.
Kuramochi snorted.
"Haha, this guy's cocky as ever."
"Though honestly, the real villain is that scheming catcher behind the plate."
He shot Miyuki a look.
"Oooh—!"
Masuko raised both arms from third.
"Ushijima! Throw a few more 150+ heaters and crush them!"
Even Isashiki shouted, trying to stir up the tension.
Only Shirasu relaxed quietly in right field.
With Ushijima on the mound…
He probably wouldn't even need to move.
At most, weak grounders.
Nothing reaching the outfield.
That was just how dominant this pitcher was.
Kiryu's second batter stepped into the box.
He adjusted his footing slightly backward.
"We have to watch the inside," he reminded himself.
"That pitcher loves jamming hitters."
It was a tiny movement.
Barely noticeable.
But—
It didn't escape Miyuki's eyes.
And it definitely didn't escape Ushijima's.
From the mound, their gazes met.
Ushijima's lips curled up slightly.
Trying to bait the inside, huh…
Miyuki immediately understood.
These two didn't even need words anymore.
Just eye contact was enough.
Miyuki set his target.
Outside corner.
Low and away.
Point six on the grid.
If the batter wanted to guard inside—
Then punish the outside.
Ushijima lifted his leg.
Delivered.
The instant the ball left his hand—
The batter stepped forward.
Just like they expected.
"Got you," Miyuki muttered.
The batter swung hard.
Perfect timing.
The sweet spot was about to meet the ball—
Then—
The ball moved.
A subtle sideways run at the last moment.
The contact point shifted.
"Damn—?!"
BANG—
The ball popped weakly into the air.
A lazy, powerless fly.
Ushijima calmly jogged forward and caught it himself.
"Out!"
Kiryu's bench stiffened.
"…Two-seam?"
"Speed?"
"142."
"142 with that movement…"
"That's disgusting."
The second batter clenched his teeth.
"They read me… completely."
He glanced toward Miyuki.
"So that's Seido's genius catcher…"
Then toward the mound.
"And that freshman isn't normal either."
Kiryu's coach narrowed his eyes.
So the 155 km/h wasn't constant.
Most pitches were around 145.
Meaning—
Either fatigue from training camp…
Or deliberate control.
If they were choosing command over speed…
That was even scarier.
He folded his arms.
"…Let's keep watching."
"Two outs! Finish it!" Yuki called.
"Close it out, Ushijima!"
The fielders shouted encouragement.
Ushijima exhaled slowly.
Yeah…
Everyone's tired.
My condition isn't perfect either.
But compared to them—
I'm still better.
So I'll end this fast.
Let them rest.
Third batter.
Miyuki didn't hesitate.
Fastball mix.
Sharp.
Merciless.
"Strike!"
"Strike!"
"Strike three! Batter out! Switch!"
Clean.
Efficient.
Dominant.
Three up.
Three down.
"Wow… Kiryu's lineup just got erased."
"Only eight pitches for three outs."
"That's crazy efficiency."
"Four-seam, two-seam, cutter… all fastballs, but moving differently."
"How are you supposed to guess that?"
"They all look identical until the last second!"
"He might actually shut Kiryu down…"
"This year's Seido found a monster ace."
The crowd buzzed nonstop.
Back in the dugout—
Yuki patted Ushijima's back.
"Nice work."
"How're you feeling?" Ushijima asked.
"Honestly? Heavy," Yuki admitted.
"My legs feel like lead," Kuramochi groaned.
Kominato laughed and lightly punched his stomach.
"Quit whining. Everyone's tired."
The team nodded.
Yeah.
Everyone was exhausted.
But seeing Ushijima mow down Kiryu like that—
It gave them strength.
Because as long as he stood on the mound…
Seido would never fall behind.