Zhou Hao knew very well,
with just a little guidance,
this young man named Sawamura Eijun would shine brilliantly, like an uncut gem finally polished.
His potential was even greater than that of the other newcomer, Furuya Satoru.
However, fully unleashing that potential wouldn't be easy.
The right method had to be found.
Fortunately, Zhou Hao knew exactly how to ignite it.
With that thought in mind, he continued increasing the distance between them while calmly giving instructions.
"Sawamura, there's no need to force yourself to use a four-seam grip every time. Use whatever grip feels the most natural to you and throw."
Hearing Zhou Hao's words, Sawamura's expression wavered for an instant.
Last summer, he had once visited Seido High School.
That single visit had left an unforgettable mark on Sawamura Eijun's life.
So deep was the impression that even now, he could vividly recall every detail of that day.
At first, he hadn't been particularly invested.
But later, when Seido High School Baseball Team crushed their opponents at Koshien and became national champions,
Sawamura, who already had his sights set on Seido, was completely shaken.
It was from that moment onward that he began seriously reflecting on the questions Zhou Hao had once asked him.
To be honest, he benefited enormously from that experience.
He began to think about his future and prepare accordingly.
It was like those top students who, after finishing their junior high entrance exams, didn't waste time playing on their phones or going on trips.
Instead, they borrowed high school textbooks in advance, started self-studying, and bought practice problems to test themselves.
That autumn and winter, Sawamura Eijun did exactly the same.
Before that, he had led his middle school baseball team for two years.
Though their results weren't impressive, he had gained a great deal of experience.
However, everything he knew back then was self-taught—there had been no systematic training.
And it wasn't just him; his entire team was the same.
It wasn't until Sawamura changed his attitude that his teammates followed suit.
While preparing for their entrance exams, they also used their spare time to support him.
They helped gather information, studied together, and trained alongside him.
With their assistance, Sawamura transformed.
He won his bet with Coach Kataoka and made a shocking debut.
He became one of the three most outstanding first-year pitchers.
Although not much time had passed, Sawamura's growth was astonishing.
His four-seam fastball, his control, even his pitching velocity—
all of it had improved dramatically.
Compared to when he first arrived last year, he was practically a different person.
However, there was a price.
As he corrected his pitching form and standardized his grip,
his original, diamond-like talent began to change—
—or rather, it showed signs of being buried.
Sawamura himself had noticed this long ago.
But even if he was aware of it, he had no idea how to change.
It was simply too difficult.
That was why—
when the distance between them stretched to nearly twenty-five meters,
and Zhou Hao suddenly told him to throw freely—
not to obsess over the four-seam,
to use a two-seam, a zero-seam,
or any grip that felt natural—
Sawamura was stunned.
Wasn't the four-seam fastball supposed to be the fastest?
That was what the books said.
That was what the online resources taught.
These conclusions had been summarized by countless predecessors—people far more knowledgeable than him.
Sawamura believed in that knowledge wholeheartedly.
After all, practicing according to those methods had worked.
His velocity increased.
His control improved.
Since the results were real, how could he doubt them?
Even so,
because Sawamura trusted Zhou Hao almost unconditionally,
he didn't hesitate.
He loosened his grip on the seams, grabbed the ball naturally, and threw.
"Swoosh!"
The moment the ball left his hand,
the expressions of everyone in the Seido High School Baseball Team subtly changed.
At shorter distances, Sawamura's deviation hadn't been obvious.
His catch practice with Zhou Hao had looked smooth, even impressive.
But now—
with the distance extended to about twenty-five meters,
a common and crucial throwing distance in baseball—
his performance collapsed as if cursed.
The ball deviated by at least two meters.
"What's wrong with his control?!"
"I don't get it—it's like he's a completely different pitcher!"
The surrounding players were baffled.
Zhou Hao, however, felt admiration rise within him as he watched the ball fly.
Sawamura had indeed corrected his pitching motion.
His determination was evident, and the overall results weren't bad.
But despite all that,
his innate pitching characteristic remained.
The ball he threw still carried that mysterious, unnatural movement.
And Sawamura himself probably didn't even realize it.
Yet the change was undeniably there.
"Interesting… so interesting."
With his Three-Tomoe Sharingan activated, Zhou Hao could see far more clearly than anyone else.
As Sawamura pitched, his arm snapped like a whip.
If this talent were fully unleashed,
Zhou Hao instinctively felt that even he himself might struggle to gain an advantage against Sawamura on the mound.
There was no fixed pattern to this movement.
Even with the Sharingan, Zhou Hao could only predict the ball's speed and trajectory after it left Sawamura's hand.
Logically, that should still be enough to hit the ball.
But seeing the pitch wasn't enough—
he also needed enough time to swing the bat with confidence.
Zhou Hao's batting results were among the best in the nation.
But that didn't mean his raw swing speed was.
The reason for his terrifying batting performance was clear—
ninety percent came from the Sharingan.
The remaining ten percent came from his actual batting skill.
When it came to pure bat speed—
forget monsters like Yuki Tetsuya.
Even compared to Kominato Ryosuke or Oshima Shin,
Zhou Hao had no clear advantage.
And this—
this was Sawamura Eijun.
Once his potential truly exploded…
Zhou Hao believed that even he himself might not be able to hit this kind of pitch.
And that was the reason.
To put it bluntly, Zhou Hao had his own shortcomings.
And this flaw was extremely obvious—
Of course, if one chose to look at it optimistically, it also meant that Zhou Hao's batting still had enormous room for growth.
These thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.
What the first-year players of Seido High School Baseball Team saw next, however, was a scene they would never forget.
Sawamura Eijun's missed pitch.
It was a full-power throw, reaching a speed of 135 kilometers per hour.
The ball deviated sharply—
Yet Zhou Hao reacted in a flash.
With a swift sidestep, he appeared directly in front of the baseball and caught it cleanly.
"Thwack!"
The sound echoed clearly.
The eyes of the Seido players nearly popped out of their sockets.
"Oh my goodness!"
"That ball was insanely fast—and the deviation was huge!"
"How did Senior Zhou Hao catch that?!"
The scene felt unreal.
Even Sawamura himself stared in disbelief, apology written plainly on his face.
He had never expected Zhou Hao to catch it so easily.
"Senior Zhou Hao!"
"It's fine," Zhou Hao said calmly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "That was a great pitch. Keep it up. Don't worry about the seams."
At such a distance, that level of deviation was impossible to ignore.
And yet,
Zhou Hao felt exhilarated.
At this moment, he still didn't have a complete method for guiding others.
But guiding Sawamura was different.
This young man's talent was simply too dazzling.
With only a little push, it immediately revealed itself.
Inside the coach's office.
Manager Ota blinked repeatedly before turning toward Coach Kataoka.
"That Sawamura…"
He had already noticed it.
Coach Kataoka, usually stern, wore a rare gentle smile.
From the moment Takashima Rei extended an olive branch to this first-year, Kataoka had sensed something.
Yet after Sawamura officially joined the team, his performances made it difficult to discern his original traits.
At most, he could be described as a very promising newcomer.
Compared to Furuya Satoru, his potential didn't stand out as clearly.
The first-years had joined the team only recently.
So recently that neither Coach Kataoka nor the coaching staff had time to properly guide them.
Even the all-important freshman welcoming game hadn't been played yet.
Naturally, Sawamura's true talent remained hidden.
Zhou Hao's decision to practice with the newcomers had initially drawn little attention.
Everyone was simply curious about what had piqued the Ace's interest.
Only now did Coach Kataoka realize,
Seido's Ace possessed more than terrifying pitching ability.
He also had the discerning eye of a true talent scout.
From Zhou Hao's actions, it was obvious that he had already discovered Sawamura Eijun's potential and happened to have the opportunity to guide him.
The two had worked together on the field last summer.
Perhaps even then, Zhou Hao had sensed it.
The talent simply hadn't exploded yet.
As for why Zhou Hao would do this,
Coach Kataoka could guess.
Their Ace had likely already recognized Seido's current predicament.
They had an absolute Ace—
but lacked a reliable backup who could step up in critical moments.
Just like last year.
Furuya Satoru was powerful, but limited.
Tanba lacked stability.
Kawakami lacked strength.
"Our Ace is extraordinary," Coach Kataoka thought quietly.
"He's already viewing Seido from a higher perspective."
This was no longer the mindset of a player—
or even that of a team captain.
It was the perspective of a leader.
Of a coach.
Coach Kataoka had once believed that a perfect Ace could be cultivated.
Now, he realized how naïve that thought was.
An Ace like this isn't created.
They are born.
And Zhou Hao—
without a doubt—
possessed that temperament.
As the distance between the two continued to increase, Sawamura's pitches became even more unpredictable.
Some balls broke too violently and dropped short.
So much so that Zhou Hao couldn't even catch them.
At that point, the practice had no choice but to stop.
"Sawamura," Zhou Hao said after lowering his glove, "wait a few days. Coach and the staff should come up with specialized training for you."
Which Seido player wasn't sharp?
Some had already clearly seen Sawamura's talent.
Even those who hadn't fully understood it still knew one thing—
Sawamura Eijun was on the verge of a breakout.
No matter how he'd been before, with Zhou Hao's words backing him,
his future was bound to be limitless.
They were all first-years.
If they had been a little braver earlier,
perhaps the outcome would have been different.
As for these reactions, Zhou Hao showed no response.
At this moment, he had no attention to spare for others' thoughts.
Because his focus was entirely on the system notification.
[Successfully guided newcomer: Sawamura Eijun.]
[Sawamura Eijun's reverence value +10.]
[Bystander newcomers' admiration value +17.]
[First guidance bonus: total admiration value 27.]
No reward notification appeared.
Which meant—
this was not a one-time task.
But a growth-type mission.
The duration could be two or three weeks.
Or two or three months.
Either the freshman welcoming game would serve as the assessment—
or the Summer Tournament.
Whichever it was,
Zhou Hao was looking forward to it.
Personally, he believed the welcoming game was the more likely benchmark.
That would be the true test for the newcomers.
Who entered the First String.
Who was relegated to the Second Team.
Combined with the admiration values—
the reward would undoubtedly be considerable.
Zhou Hao had only completed one similar mission before.
And that time, the reward had been enormous.
This mission was clearly more difficult.
Which meant—
once completed, the payoff would be even greater.
Zhou Hao naturally wanted to guide more newcomers.
But there wasn't much time left.
The welcoming game was approaching fast.
The end of the Spring Tournament would be the turning point.
However—
the Spring Tournament wasn't over yet.
And as Seido's Ace,
Zhou Hao had no choice but to shift his focus back to the field.
Their quarterfinal opponent—
Ichidai Sanko.