At the top of the first inning, the Seido High School Baseball Team took the field on offense.
Kuramochi Yoichi, the leadoff batter, stepped into the batter's box with barely contained excitement radiating from his body.
In Seido's dugout, and among the Seido supporters filling the stands, eyes burned with anticipation.
Get on base.
Everyone believed that as long as Seido's leadoff hitter reached base, the opening run would soon follow.
And against Ichidai Sanko, scoring first carried special meaning.
No one understood this better than Seido's players.
Taking the lead against Ichidai Sanko meant seizing complete control of the game—pressuring their arch-rival from the very first pitch and leaving them no room to breathe.
To crush Ichidai Sanko head-on, to give them no chance to turn the tables,
that was exactly what Seido wanted.
Kuramochi embodied that desire perfectly.
Standing in the batter's box, his eyes gleamed like those of a cunning predator.
The moment an opening appeared, he would seize it without hesitation.
At the same time, on the pitcher's mound, Manaka Kaname stood calm yet intensely focused.
Ever since Manaka had risen to become Ichidai Sanko's pillar, the team had repeatedly fallen short of Koshien.
No matter how hard they struggled, they could never climb over the two massive barriers standing in their way—Inashiro and Seido.
As the Ace of one of West Tokyo's three great powerhouses, Manaka refused to accept that fate.
He wanted to fight back.
Not just him—every player on Ichidai Sanko felt the same.
Standing on the mound, staring straight at Seido's lineup, Manaka felt his blood boil.
You think you can hit me that easily?
Kuramochi's confidence was unmistakable—he stood there as if the pitch were already his.
Manaka's lips curled into a cold smile.
Dream on.
"If you've got the guts," he thought, "then try to hit it."
He raised his leg and fired decisively.
The moment the ball left his hand, it seemed to explode forward.
Whoosh!
Kuramochi's heart skipped a beat as the baseball tore through the air.
Fast!
This pitch was even sharper than he had anticipated.
So this is Ichidai Sanko's Ace…
Before he could fully process the thought, the ball had already snapped into the catcher's mitt.
Thwack!
"Strike!"
Manaka claimed the first strike cleanly.
Instead of being discouraged, Kuramochi's fighting spirit surged.
"Hehaha!!"
He grinned fiercely, gripping his bat tighter as he locked eyes with the pitcher's mound.
From Kuramochi's perspective, he couldn't help but acknowledge Manaka's strength.
Ichidai Sanko had always been like this.
Even without a once-in-a-generation monster Ace like Zhou Hao, they somehow always produced pitchers capable of holding the line.
They never lacked talent on the mound.
Manaka was no exception.
Still—
his pitch hadn't exceeded Kuramochi's limits.
Based on experience alone, Kuramochi was confident.
I can hit this.
That realization thrilled him.
His gaze sharpened as he waited for the next pitch.
Whoosh!
Kuramochi swung.
Clang!
His form was slightly awkward, but the bat met the ball solidly.
The white baseball shot outward.
Ichidai Sanko's fielders reacted instantly, rushing toward the projected landing spot—
—but they were too late.
The ball struck the ground beyond the foul line.
"Foul ball!"
One strike, one foul.
Just like that, Kuramochi found himself cornered with two strikes.
On the mound, Manaka's eyes grew cold.
To him, Kuramochi now looked like prey caught in a carefully spun web.
Struggle all you want—
escape was only a matter of time.
This next pitch ends it.
Whoosh!
The baseball screamed toward home plate.
In the stands, Seido's supporters instinctively held their breath.
The dugout fell silent.
Everyone waited.
Kuramochi stepped forward, pouring all his strength into the swing.
Clang!
The ball soared high into the air.
A shallow pop fly.
No matter how far it drifted, it posed no real threat.
Thwack!
Ichidai Sanko's infielder settled under it effortlessly.
"Out!"
One out.
Bases empty.
The game had barely begun, and Seido had entered brimming with confidence—
yet reality struck quickly.
Manaka, Ace of Ichidai Sanko, was in excellent form.
He retired Seido's leadoff hitter cleanly, without giving up an inch.
There was nothing to argue about.
"Second batter—number four, second baseman, Kominato Ryosuke."
Following Kuramochi was Seido's crafty technician.
Despite his small frame, Kominato's skill set was among the most refined on the team.
Especially his mastery of precision hitting and subtle techniques—
few could match him.
As he stepped into the batter's box, the atmosphere noticeably shifted.
The noise quieted.
Everyone wanted to see how Seido's most technical hitter would fare against Manaka's pitches.
Just as everyone was thinking this—
Manaka made his move.
He wound up and fired a four-seam fastball.
Whoosh!
The baseball, sharp as a blade, sliced past Kominato Ryosuke's line of sight.
"A straight ball?"
Kominato couldn't hide his surprise.
The opponent actually challenged him head-on with a clean, no-frills fastball?
At this point, Kominato wasn't particularly famous yet. His unique batting style had only been exposed once in Seido's previous games.
Even so—
Manaka showed no hesitation at all.
He went all out, giving Kominato no time to react.
It was a pure, frontal clash.
Kominato didn't panic.
The more impatient the opponent became, the calmer he needed to be.
The more Manaka wanted to force a showdown, the less Kominato could allow him to have his way.
A fastball duel?
Not happening.
Thwack!
"Strike!"
"Strike!!"
Two consecutive strikes.
Kominato, who had intended to avoid a direct confrontation, could no longer afford to wait.
When the third pitch came, he had no choice but to swing.
He aimed to send the ball foul.
Manaka's rhythm was strong—too strong.
To disrupt it, the only option was to increase the pitch count and break his momentum.
Kominato's thinking was clear.
And he had complete confidence in his own technique.
But the instant his bat made contact with the ball—
Kominato realized he had miscalculated.
Badly.
Clang!
The sharp recoil of the bat told him everything.
Manaka's fastball wasn't just about speed.
Though it wasn't top-tier in velocity, its late movement was terrifying.
Even after deliberately adjusting his swing angle, Kominato couldn't force the ball foul.
All he could do was watch helplessly as it dropped into fair territory.
Ichidai Sanko's fielders were already in position.
Thwack!
"Out!"
Two outs.
Bases empty.
The Ichidai Third High School Baseball Team supporters erupted.
"As expected of Manaka-senpai—he's amazing!!"
Their opponent was the reigning national champion, Seido High School Baseball Team.
Even though both sides were national powerhouses—both part of West Tokyo's Big Three—
Ichidai Sanko's players and supporters couldn't deny their nervousness.
By past records and present circumstances alike, Seido held the advantage.
But after seeing this direct exchange,
that assumption began to crack.
Their Ace was strong.
Very strong.
Against Seido, they might not necessarily be the ones to fall.
Hope surged through the crowd.
We can do this!
On the bench, Ichidai Sanko's plump-faced coach flushed with excitement.
"Excellent, Manaka! Stick to your pitching—very few batters can stand against you!"
Having shown promise since junior high and undergone over two years of brutal training,
Coach Tahara had complete faith in his Ace.
Next,
as long as they faced Zhou Hao head-on,
even if they didn't score first,
the balance of the game would inevitably tilt.
Zhou Hao was Seido's sharpest blade.
As long as that blade remained intact, Seido could cut through anything.
But once it chipped,
the damage would be catastrophic.
That was the moment Ichidai Sanko intended to seize.
Two outs.
No runners on base.
"Third batter—number one, pitcher, Zhou Hao."
The instant Zhou Hao stepped into the batter's box, Seido's supporters exploded.
"Zhou Hao, you're handsome as ever today!"
"Send it flying—you've got this!!"
Truth be told, Ichidai Sanko hadn't faced Seido in quite some time.
Last autumn, they had watched Seido battle Inashiro from the stands.
Even back then, Zhou Hao's popularity had been absurd.
Now, after all this time, they had assumed it might have faded.
They were wrong.
Not only had it not declined—it had grown.
Before the noise could settle—
Manaka had already delivered his first pitch.
Whoosh!
Even facing Zhou Hao, Manaka showed no fear.
He knew exactly how dangerous this opponent was.
But retreating wasn't an option.
That was the behavior of cowards.
As the Ace of Ichidai Sanko, he would claim victory with his own strength.
Whoosh!
The baseball screamed toward home plate.
Zhou Hao didn't hesitate.
He didn't observe.
He directly activated his Three-Tomoe Sharingan.
In his eyes, Manaka's pitch slowed dramatically.
So slow that Zhou Hao could clearly see the seams spinning on the baseball.
The trajectory.
The speed.
The angle.
Everything was laid bare.
A fastball…
The simplest pitch.
Zhou Hao tightened his grip on the bat.
He was no longer the inexperienced rookie who had just joined the team.
Even if Manaka's pitch carried power—
Zhou Hao was confident.
With his current ability, he could absolutely crush it.
Bring it on.
As the baseball closed in, Zhou Hao stepped forward decisively.
Behind the plate, Ichidai Sanko's catcher nearly lost his composure.
What is he doing?!
Swinging immediately—without even testing the pitcher?
For a main player of a powerhouse team, that was reckless to the extreme.
This was leaving everything to fate.
Hit, and glory followed.
Miss—
and it was over.
Clang!
The bat connected.
The baseball shot forward violently.
He hit it?!
Seido's supporters exhaled in relief.
No matter the result, at least Zhou Hao hadn't been suppressed.
Then—
everyone watched as the baseball continued to fly… and fly…
Before finally landing and bouncing forward.
Thwack!
Ichidai Sanko's fielders didn't even have time to react.
"It went!"
"It went through!!"