The semifinal between Seido High School and Inashiro Industrial was nearing its conclusion.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Zhang Han delivered a tily hit, giving Seido High School Baseball Team a decisive advantage.
At this point, while it wasn't completely impossible for Inashiro Industrial to turn things around, the chances were extrely slim.
Inside Seido's dugout, the atmosphere was relaxed.
They only needed three more outs to secure victory.
That opponent was Inashiro Industrial—the uncrowned king of West Tokyo.
And now, they were on the verge of stepping over them.
Just thinking about it was enough to make their blood boil.
In the surrounding stands, Seido's supporters were shouting slogans that echoed throughout the stadium.
They had already seen the dawn of victory.
After years of silence, King Seido was finally about to rise again.
As die-hard supporters of Seido High School Baseball Team, how could they not be excited?
At a mont like this, excitent was mandatory. Without it, how could they even call themselves loyal fans?
Listening to the roaring cheers, Seido's players felt their blood surge.
They were desperate to end the ga as soon as possible.
Isashiki Jun, however, felt puzzled.
Although the third-year seniors around him were eager to finish the ga, their faces didn't show the carefree smiles of people who had victory firmly in hand.
Instead, they looked tense.
They kept glancing toward Inashiro's dugout and huddling together to discuss sothing.
Ace pitcher Hidezawa was in great form.
They were leading by three full runs.
No matter how Isashiki Jun thought about it, Seido should be guaranteed to win. The probability of Inashiro pulling off a coback was minuscule.
So why were the seniors acting like this?
Why weren't they more relaxed?
Instead, they were unusually cautious, as if sothing serious was about to happen.
Could it be that Inashiro Industrial still had so hidden trump card?
"It's already the end," Isashiki Jun muttered. "Inashiro should've used up all their trump cards by now."
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Hearing this, several seniors rolled their eyes at him in unison.
Zhang Han, being kind-hearted, couldn't bear to see the bearded senior being silently roasted, so he stepped in to explain.
"From the current situation, Inashiro Industrial has almost no hope left," Zhang Han said. "Let alone a ten percent chance—even one percent would be pushing it."
Isashiki Jun listened carefully.
He was especially happy whenever soone talked about Inashiro being inferior to Seido.
He nodded along.
But sothing still felt off.
If they were so close to victory, why did the seniors look like that?
He looked at Zhang Han again, hoping this junior could give him a clearer answer.
Although the second-year players all had strong personalities, they were straightforward people.
Even without words, you could feel the firmness of their convictions.
"Even if victory is basically in our hands," Zhang Han continued, "as long as the opponent hasn't given up and the ga isn't officially over, anything can still happen. That's why the seniors are being cautious."
"They haven't given up yet?" Isashiki Jun asked.
Under these circumstances, unless Seido made a serious mistake, Inashiro shouldn't have any chance at all…
"If it were you," Zhang Han asked calmly, "would you give up?"
Isashiki Jun imdiately understood.
If it were him, he wouldn't be willing to give up either.
Not to ntion that the opponent was Inashiro Industrial.
They were even less likely to surrender.
As long as there was even a sliver of hope, they would latch on and tear a chunk of flesh from Seido.
The Uncrowned King.
"King" referred to Inashiro's long-standing dominance in West Tokyo.
"Uncrowned" ant that despite all that strength, they had never won a national championship.
It was a lingering regret for Inashiro Industrial.
But it didn't change one fact.
In recent years, whether in fiercely competitive Tokyo or on the Koshien stage, Inashiro had always been a winning team.
They were the team most accustod to victory. Compared to that, a bit of pride or complacency ant nothing.
Isashiki Jun learned sothing important from his seniors. As long as the ga wasn't over, carelessness was unacceptable.
Thinking this, he glanced at Zhang Han beside him.
He had heard before that players who ca from elite youth baseball programs weren't just strong, but also had a deeper understanding of the ga than ordinary players.
He used to think that was exaggeration.
Now, it seed they weren't bragging at all.
He had simply been ignorant.
The ga entered the ninth inning.
Seido High School Baseball Team took the field in full battle formation.
Before they went out to defend, Coach Kataoka specifically pulled Ace pitcher Hidezawa aside.
"Don't try to strike out batters with pure power," Kataoka said. "With your current stamina, that'll be very hard. Trust the fielders behind you. Use your defense to get outs. Understand?"
"Understood!"
Hidezawa turned around and looked at his teammates behind him.
Each of them stood tall and steady, like towering trees.
Seeing them, Hidezawa felt an overwhelming sense of reassurance.
Ever since becoming Seido's ace, he always felt especially secure on the mound.
There were no more reliable teammates than the ones behind him. As long as they were there, he believed he could face any opponent.
Inashiro's second batter stepped up first.
Before the ga, Director Kunimoto had deliberately moved Inashiro's core lineup forward in the batting order.
Now, the effect of that decision was finally becoming apparent. Inashiro hadn't gotten many hits throughout the ga, yet their core hitters ca up again so quickly.
That was largely due to Kunimoto's strategic foresight. As expected of a director renowned not just in Tokyo, but nationwide.
His vision was indeed deep.
On the mound, Hidezawa felt a flicker of admiration.
Kunimoto's arrangent truly showed its power at this mont.
At the sa ti, Hidezawa prepared to repay that "kindness" in his own way.
"Whoosh!"
The white ball flew out and landed almost dead center in the strike zone.
Originally, Inashiro's second batter had no intention of swinging at the first pitch.
But seeing such a pitch, the instinctive urge inside him couldn't be suppressed.
He swung.
"Ping!"
The bat made solid contact.
So heavy!
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