When the players of the Ichidai Third High School Baseball Team saw the baseball flying toward the outfield, they weren't surprised.
Their opponent was Zhou Hao.
They had already anticipated this outcome.
At most, they were only shocked that Zhou Hao hadn't even let the first pitch pass.
He swung decisively.
Ping!
The moment the bat connected, Zhou Hao burst forward like he had instantaneously teleported.
Everyone who noticed this couldn't help but gasp.
"So fast!!"
Kuramochi, Seido's leadoff batter, was famously one of the fastest runners on the team—arguably one of the best in the nation.
Yet even compared to Kuramochi, Zhou Hao's explosive first step was clearly superior.
The realization stunned everyone present.
Once again, Zhou Hao demonstrated just how terrifyingly complete he was as a player.
In Ichidai Sanko's dugout—
Manager Tahara, who was usually calm and optimistic, wore a grim expression.
He could already tell.
Even if his team fielded the ball immediately after it bounced, they probably wouldn't be able to stop Zhou Hao.
At this point, the only hope was that the ball would be fielded cleanly and Zhou Hao would be thrown out directly.
If that happened, they could still keep him off base.
Unfortunately—
that was nothing more than wishful thinking.
The instant the baseball hit the ground, Ichidai Sanko's fielders lunged toward it.
But they were simply too far away.
By the time the ball was finally picked up, Zhou Hao had already streaked past first base.
If the fielding position hadn't been relatively close to second base, Zhou Hao might have gone even farther.
"Safe!"
Two outs.
Runner on first.
Seido's offense had finally broken through.
In the stands, Seido's supporters were thrilled.
"Did you see that?! That's our Ace's power!"
"You're still nowhere near our level!!!"
From their point of view, Seido had already seized control of the game.
Ichidai Sanko wasn't weak—far from it.
Their strength was obvious from their performance so far.
But so what?
In the end, victory would still belong to Seido.
There was simply a fundamental gap between the two teams.
This confidence spread through the Seido lineup.
The players' eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Keep it going!"
"Bring him home!"
On the bench, Oshima Shin stared at Zhou Hao standing on first base, his eyes full of admiration.
Because of their close interactions, Oshima knew better than most—
Zhou Hao wasn't actually a top-tier hitter by conventional standards.
Manaka was pitching extremely well. By normal logic, Zhou Hao shouldn't have been able to square that ball up so cleanly.
His swing mechanics weren't elite.
And yet—
he did it.
Zhou Hao shattered Oshima's preconceptions.
Oshima didn't know how Zhou Hao managed it.
But since Zhou Hao had done it, there was nothing left but admiration.
On the baseball field, strength was proven by results.
And by that standard, Zhou Hao was practically invincible.
Any pitch thrown his way—except those with extreme late movement—could be hit.
Oshima had played in numerous domestic and international games.
But he had never seen a player like Zhou Hao.
What kind of eyesight does it take?
What level of coordination?
Just thinking about it made his scalp tingle.
Even if Oshima could theoretically do the same thing, he knew he wouldn't make it look that effortless.
"Fourth batter—Number 3—First Baseman, Yuki Tetsuya!"
Seido's lineup followed its usual structure today.
Yuki returned to the cleanup spot.
With Zhou Hao already on base, Yuki's aggression was unmistakable.
He raised his bat high, his eyes sharp and predatory, locked onto his opponent like a venomous snake.
Ichidai Sanko's catcher felt his back instantly soaked in sweat.
"Damn it…"
Seido's cleanup hitter didn't need to swing to be terrifying.
Just standing in the batter's box, Yuki gave the impression that no matter where the pitch went, he would find a way to hit it.
What made it worse—
he actually could.
West Tokyo currently had four truly elite sluggers.
Hoshida of Ichidai Sanko.
Harada of Inashiro Industrial.
Yuki Tetsuya standing at the plate.
And the fourth—
Zhou Hao, who had just reached base.
In terms of batting average, Zhou Hao even surpassed the other three.
The only reason his reputation lagged slightly behind was his lack of home runs.
Overall, their evaluations were nearly identical.
In fact, Zhou Hao was quietly becoming the most reliable hitter in West Tokyo—
possibly even in all of Tokyo.
Among the remaining three, Yuki carried the greatest reputation and was widely considered the most dangerous.
When he stood there, radiating the aura of a man who could launch the ball at any moment—
what catcher wouldn't feel pressure?
Ichidai Sanko's catcher felt the hair on his arms stand on end.
He glanced up toward the pitcher's mound.
Their Ace was proud.
Too proud.
Manaka had once scoffed at other teams' cautious strategies against Seido.
But now, with two outs and a runner on first, confronting Yuki directly was undeniably dangerous.
Should we avoid him?
That was the catcher's honest thought.
There was no need to fight Yuki head-on here.
Issue a walk.
Deal with the next batter.
With Manaka's current form, escaping the inning cleanly was entirely possible.
But Manaka wasn't interested.
He shook his head firmly.
No retreat.
He refused to back down.
Even if he ended up battered and bloodied—
he would confront Seido's lineup head-on until the very end.
If this had been the Summer Tournament, Ichidai Sanko might have chosen to retreat.
That was a battlefield tied to the fate of the team. For the third-year players, it would be the final journey of their high school baseball careers.
They had to win.
But this was only the Spring Tournament.
They had already secured a seeded spot.
If they didn't even dare to confront Seido head-on here, then how could they ever hope to trample the Seido High School Baseball Team underfoot in the Summer Tournament?
Seeing Manaka's determination, Ichidai Sanko's catcher silently clenched his teeth.
"So all pitchers really are this stubborn…"
There was an easier choice.
But given Manaka's mindset and current condition, there was no convincing him.
"…Fine. Since you've thought it through, let's do it!"
The catcher sent the signal.
On the pitcher's mound, Manaka seemed to pour every ounce of strength into his body.
He began his windup.
At that exact moment—
Zhou Hao, who had been standing calmly on first base, suddenly exploded forward like a leopard pouncing on its prey.
The first baseman's eyes nearly popped out.
Was Seido's Ace really this audacious?!
They weren't some ordinary team.
They were Ichidai Sanko, one of West Tokyo's three great powerhouses—an elite team capable of standing toe-to-toe with Seido.
Their defense wasn't weak in the slightest.
Zhou Hao's move was nothing short of blatant disregard for them.
"Manaka!!"
The warning rang out.
Manaka reacted instantly.
In a split second, he altered his throwing motion.
To be able to respond like that mid-windup—only someone of Manaka's caliber could pull it off.
Ichidai Sanko's catcher was no less impressive.
The moment he understood what was happening, he half-stood, opened his glove, and cleanly received the ball.
Whack!
His arm snapped forward like a spring-loaded cannon.
Swoosh!!
The baseball turned into a white blur, screaming toward second base.
Everyone who saw it couldn't help but gasp.
"What a reaction!"
"As expected of Ichidai Sanko!"
This level of coordination wasn't something that could be improvised.
Every player involved had to be exceptionally skilled—and they must have practiced this exact situation countless times.
Otherwise, even a moment's hesitation would have been enough for Zhou Hao to reach second base uncontested.
Ichidai Sanko's supporters' eyes lit up.
They hadn't expected this twist.
But that didn't matter.
All they needed to do now was applaud.
From their perspective, the play was already decided.
However—
Just as that thought formed, a white-and-blue figure had already slammed into second base.
Whack!
The glove and the runner arrived almost simultaneously.
"Safe!!"
Two outs.
Runner on second.
A wave of shock rippled through Seido's supporters.
"Oh my god…"
"That was way too thrilling!"
"I thought Zhou Hao was done for—"
Ichidai Sanko's execution had been flawless.
So flawless that everyone had subconsciously ignored Zhou Hao himself.
They had assumed he wouldn't make it.
Only now did they realize—
they had underestimated his speed.
Barely managing to steady themselves, the crowd watched as Manaka grit his teeth and threw the next pitch.
Failing to stop Zhou Hao was a bitter regret.
It still wasn't too late to walk Yuki.
But Manaka had no intention of doing that.
He lifted his arm again.
This pitch—
he would hold nothing back.
Swoosh!
The baseball tore through the air.
In the batter's box, Yuki Tetsuya swung.
His bat cut through the air like thunder.
BOOM!!
The catcher's mind went completely blank.
Yuki had swung immediately.
To stop Zhou Hao, they had just thrown a pitch that wasn't ideal.
By all logic, Yuki should have waited. He should have observed.
Why swing now?
The catcher wasn't stupid.
The realization struck him instantly—
and his blood ran cold.
Ping!!
The bat struck the baseball flush.
The ball rocketed away—faster than it had come in.
In the blink of an eye, the white blur hit the ground and bounced violently forward.
Every Ichidai Sanko fielder was an experienced elite.
But even they couldn't react in time.
They could only watch as the ball tore past them.
"It went through!!"
"An invincible hit!!"
"They didn't even move!"
The Seido supporters erupted.
On the field, Zhou Hao, who had been on second base, sprinted full speed toward third.
Reaching the bag, he looked up at the third-base coach.
"Go!!"
The signal was immediate.
Zhou Hao didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second.
He blew past the coach and charged straight for home plate.
"Safe!!"
By the time the ball was relayed back—
it was already far too late.