"Nice pitch! Two outs! Just one more!"
Kominato Ryosuke clapped his hands and called out to his junior.
"No rush. Two outs. Focus on the next batter," Yuki Tetsuya added calmly.
On the mound, Ushijima Wakatoshi gave a small nod.
Encouragement received. Mind steady.
The sixth batter stepped into the box.
First pitch—
Two-seam.
Smack!
The batter made contact, but the timing was terrible.
The ball died off the bat and rolled weakly toward the mound.
A slow infield grounder.
Ushijima stepped forward, scooped it up cleanly, and tossed it casually to first base.
Before the ball even reached Yuki's glove—
he had already turned around.
Snap.
"Out!"
"Change sides!"
The inning ended just like that.
The crowd buzzed.
"Whoa… that's insane."
"Three batters down with only eight pitches?"
"That's another three up, three down…"
"Against Kiryu's lineup too!"
"They didn't even get a single hit!"
"The catcher and pitcher basically handled everything themselves."
"Is he really just a first-year?!"
Even Kiryu's bench looked frustrated.
Those pitches weren't flashy—
but they were sharp.
Precise.
Efficient.
And suffocating.
"Nice one!"
Isashiki ran over and threw an arm around Ushijima's neck.
"But hey… where's your sinker? You haven't thrown it once!"
Everyone perked up.
They were curious too.
Ushijima answered calmly,
"They haven't forced me to use it yet."
"I'll probably bring it out around the fourth inning."
"Three pitches are enough for now."
"Against Kiryu… I can't assume Miyuki and I can suppress them forever with just three types."
His tone was rational.
Not arrogant.
Just realistic.
That was the mindset of an Ace.
Bottom of the inning — Seido's turn to bat.
Shirasu, the eighth batter, went down quickly.
Two pitches. Out.
Then Furuya stepped up.
Ushijima's dominance seemed to light a fire in him.
CRACK!
The ball soared high and deep—
Home run.
"Oh ho~" Ushijima laughed softly.
"Some catcher's about to feel embarrassed."
"…Shut up," Miyuki muttered.
That homer added another run for Seido.
But the rest of the inning ended quickly.
Top of the third.
Ushijima returned to the mound.
Seventh, eighth, ninth batters—
Fastballs.
Corners.
Power.
Precision.
Three straight outs again.
Coach Kataoka glanced at Chris.
"How many pitches?"
Chris checked his notebook.
"Eight in the first inning. Eight in the second. Nine in the third."
"…Twenty-seven total."
"…That efficient?" Kawakami stared.
Chris nodded.
"Through nine batters, seven strikeouts."
"Five of them on just three pitches each."
"Two needed four pitches."
"One fly out. One grounder."
Silence fell over the bench.
That wasn't just good.
That was terrifying.
Especially for the other pitchers like Tanba and Kawakami.
They understood better than anyone how absurd that efficiency was.
Score after three innings:
Kiryu — 0 0 0
Seido — 2 1 0
Top of the fourth.
Kiryu's lineup came around again.
Ushijima rested his hands on his knees, eyes locked forward.
First batter.
First pitch—
Cutter.
The ball sliced sharply toward the outside corner.
"Strike!"
The batter didn't swing.
He hadn't expected that.
I thought it'd be inside…
Second pitch—
Same trajectory.
Strike two.
"What… two Cutters in a row?"
"Aren't they afraid we'll get used to it?"
The batter's thoughts began to waver.
And that hesitation—
was exactly what Miyuki wanted.
Third pitch—
Same starting path.
The batter assumed four-seam and swung.
But at the last moment—
the ball dipped and cut.
Lower.
Sharper.
Gone.
Thwack!
"Strike three!"
Another strikeout.
"Whoa! That's eight strikeouts already!"
"Kiryu's leadoff just struck out twice!"
"Last time he got eaten alive inside—this time outside!"
"That inside–outside combo is evil…"
On the mound—
Ushijima simply adjusted his cap.
Cold.
Unbothered.
Like eliminating batters was just routine.