The white ball shot back like an arrow, landing directly in catcher Shibata's mitt.
The sharp crack of leather echoed through the stadium, cutting through the tension like a blade.
Azuma Kiyokuni, who had been stopped firmly at Third Base, felt a chill run down his spine. Cold sweat broke out across his back.
Those guys from Osaka Kiryuu High School Baseball Team were even more formidable than he had imagined.
From that angle, from that distance, to return the ball so quickly and so accurately. It was almost unbelievable.
The Cosmic Team's strength was not an empty title. They had depth, discipline, and composure. Every movent was drilled into muscle mory. Every reaction was honed through countless hours of practice.
The stands erupted in collective gasps.
For a mont, even supporters of both teams forgot about victory or defeat. Their eyes were locked on the field, captivated by the sheer intensity of the duel.
When they saw the throw reach Shibata in ti, many instinctively sucked in a breath.
So dangerous.
The ga had nearly ended right there.
Looking back at how things had unfolded, the expressions in the eyes of both sides' supporters grew complicated.
No one had expected the match to escalate to this point.
At the end of the top of the ninth inning, Seido High School Baseball Team had still been trailing by three runs. Almost everyone believed their fate was sealed.
A three-run deficit was already daunting. More importantly, Seido's players had expended trendous physical energy throughout the ga. Compared to Osaka Kiryuu, they were visibly more fatigued.
If the ga went into extra innings, Seido would undoubtedly be at a disadvantage.
Under such circumstances, what options did they have?
Even if they managed to tie the score, their stamina would likely fail them afterward.
To truly overturn defeat into victory, Seido would need to score four runs in the bottom of the ninth.
Was that realistic?
To most spectators, it sounded absurd.
Even against an ordinary powerhouse, scoring four runs in a single inning against a team playing full defense was nearly impossible. Against Osaka Kiryuu, the Cosmic Team, it felt like trying to climb to the heavens.
Seido had played brilliantly today. That much was undeniable.
But brilliance alone did not guarantee miracles.
And yet, here they were.
The scoreboard now read fourteen to twelve.
Seido trailed by two runs.
Two outs.
Runners on First and Third.
Hope, fragile but undeniable, flickered in the air.
If Zhang Han could hit a three-run ho run right now, everything would change instantly.
Fifteen to fourteen.
A complete reversal.
A legendary coback.
Of course, ho runs were not gifts handed out freely.
If any other player were standing in the batter's box, the crowd would not dare entertain such fantasies.
Osaka Kiryuu.
The Cosmic Team.
These were not nas to be carved up casually, as though they were vegetables to be chopped and tossed aside.
Only soone with iron teeth could bite through such opposition.
But the one currently standing in the batter's box was Zhang Han.
And that changed everything.
In today's ga, he had been the brightest star on the field. Five plate appearances. Five hits. One ho run and four clean knocks.
A one hundred percent hitting average.
If anyone could do it, it was him.
Not only Seido's supporters, but even many neutral spectators felt their hearts ignite with anticipation.
They longed to witness sothing unforgettable.
A super coback.
A ga that would be talked about for years.
As the stadium buzzed with expectation, a figure rose slowly in the Osaka Kiryuu High School Baseball Team dugout.
He was slightly bulky, his posture calm and unhurried.
Yet the mont he stood, countless eyes shifted toward him.
Matsumoto Takahiro.
The old fox.
He was finally making his move.
No one was surprised.
A nationally renowned strategist would not sit idly by at such a mont. If he had no counterasure, his reputation would have been hollow.
Matsumoto raised his hand and gave the signal.
On the mound, Komochi seed to release a breath he had been holding.
Behind the plate, Shibata froze briefly, then felt a quiet sense of relief.
He stood up and stepped out of the strike zone.
Confusion spread through the stands.
What was happening?
"Ball."
"Ball!"
"Ball!"
"Ball!!"
"Walk to First Base!"
The announcent rang out clearly.
Intentional walk.
Zhang Han was awarded First Base.
Yuuki advanced to Second.
Two outs.
Bases loaded.
For a split second, silence fell over the Seido section.
Then ca the boos.
Supporters shouted angrily, their faces flushed red.
They accused Osaka Kiryuu of cowardice. They mocked the so-called number one powerhouse in the nation for refusing to face Seido's hitter directly.
How could they avoid confrontation at such a mont?
Was this not shaless?
The noise swelled.
Yet in the Osaka dugout, Matsumoto Takahiro's expression remained steady.
He showed no irritation.
No hesitation.
His eyes were calm, almost detached.
Yes, one long hit could still flip the outco.
But in his mind, the variables had already been calculated.
Coach Kataoka in Seido's dugout slowly closed his eyes.
He understood.
Throughout the ga, Osaka Kiryuu had had opportunities to neutralize threats by intentionally walking strong hitters. They had never used that option.
Now they did.
That ant Matsumoto had chosen this exact mont deliberately.
Because it had never been used before, Seido had not prepared ntally for it.
The pressure shifted instantly.
Now the responsibility fell to Isashiki Jun.
He had not imagined he would shoulder such weight.
His muscles trembled subtly.
The bases were loaded.
Two outs.
Every gaze in the stadium seed to press down on him.
He stepped into the batter's box.
The first pitch ca fast.
He did not swing.
"Strike!"
The sound echoed harshly.
He tightened his grip.
On the second pitch, he swung with everything he had.
But his body felt heavy. His timing was off.
"Strike!"
The count deepened.
His mind raced.
He wanted to think clearly. He wanted to trust his training. Yet fatigue, expectation, and fear tangled together inside him.
Across the diamond, Komochi felt strangely liberated.
After walking Zhang Han, the suffocating weight lifted slightly.
Now the pressure was on Seido.
He poured his remaining strength into his arm.
The pitch sliced through the air.
Isashiki swung.
His form was not smooth. His bat lagged by a fraction of a second.
"Strike!"
"Strike out!"
The umpire's voice rang out, decisive and final.
For a heartbeat, the entire stadium seed frozen.
Then the announcent ca.
"Koshien National Baseball Tournant, Quarter-finals, Seido High School Baseball Team versus Osaka Kiryuu High School Baseball Team. Final score twelve to fourteen. The winner, advancing to the national top four, is Osaka Kiryuu High School Baseball Team."
************************************
Chapter Title: One Swing Away
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