"Ping!"
Shirasu's bunt dropped precisely along the First Base line, stopping dead like a ball placed there by hand.
Zhang Han, who had reached Third Base earlier thanks to Kuramochi's hit-and-run, was already moving the mont Hidezawa began his pitching motion. The instant the ball left the Ace's fingertips, Zhang Han exploded toward Ho Base.
"Is this a squeeze play?!"
The alumni watching were shocked speechless.
It wasn't that they doubted the Freshn's abilities anymore — after all, they had already seen Zhang Han's monstrous hitting and Miyuki's commanding pitch-calling.
But this—
A perfectly coordinated squeeze play… executed by freshn… without a team commander?!
This was beyond what anyone could reasonably expect from newcors who had only just joined high school.
In theory, freshn shouldn't be capable of this level of synergy. They should be focusing on performing their individual roles, not orchestrating tactical plays as if they were veterans.
They had barely learned to walk yet here they were, sprinting like professionals.
But today's Freshn were nothing like ordinary newcors. They were breaking every preconceived notion.
Not only did they possess remarkable individual strength Zhang Han's terrifying batting, Miyuki's masterful catching, Kuramochi's speed and timing but now they were actually demonstrating team coordination.
Kuramochi's hit-and-run had delivered Zhang Han to Third Base. And without hesitation, Zhang Han and Shirasu followed with a seamless squeeze play, executed at near textbook perfection.
Shirasu deadened the ball flawlessly.
Zhang Han sprinted ho without a single mont of hesitation.
Their timing was so sharp, so decisive, that even the second and third-year defenders were caught completely off guard.
By the ti the seniors reacted—
"SAFE!!"
The umpire's call echoed across the field.
Although Shirasu was tagged out at First in the end, Zhang Han had already crossed ho plate, adding another run to the score.
3–0.
The Freshn were now ahead by three. If the first two runs were due to the seniors underestimating their opponents, this one was impossible to explain away.
This was no fluke.
This was no coincidence.
This was no rcy on their part.
The Freshn were genuinely outplaying the Old-tirs Team.
Even the arrogant seniors had to accept reality.
If they didn't bring out their true power, this match would forever stain their careers.
If they lost this welcoming match… No matter what they achieved later — even if they reached Koshien — people would always snicker:
"You were the seniors who lost to the freshn."
A humiliation carved into history.
"We can't let this continue!"
"We can't lose this ga! Even if it's just a bluff, we absolutely can't!"
The Old-tirs Team's eyes turned red with determination. They were ready to fight to the death. anwhile, Coach Kataoka had seen sothing concerning.
The Freshn were strong — stronger than expected. But more importantly, Hidezawa was collapsing under Zhang Han's repeated hits.
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His emotion, rhythm, and control had spiraled out of balance.
Even Freshn besides Zhang Han were now able to hit him.
That was unacceptable. At the critical mont, Coach Kataoka made a decisive move.
To increase the challenge for the Freshn and to help Hidezawa regain his form he sent in the team's hidden trump card.
The main catcher—
Takigawa Chris Yū.
Half Western, with a refined face and calm, dignified aura, Chris's presence alone changed the atmosphere of the stadium.
When he stepped onto the field, it felt as if everything shifted slightly around him.
"As expected of Chris… he really knows how to change the air," one player murmured.
Two outs.
Nobody on base.
Miyuki stepped into the batter's box, eyes gleaming with sothing much deeper than simple competitiveness.
For him — this mont ant everything.
There were many reasons he chose Seidō, Takashima Rei's recruitnt, the school's elite training, his childhood admiration for Seidō… But none of those reasons were the true reason.
The one that mattered most—
Chris.
In middle school, Chris was the only catcher Miyuki had never been able to surpass.
Every match was a defeat so crushing it burned itself into Miyuki's mory.
They played the sa position.
And yet Miyuki had never felt so utterly dominated in his life.
Even before entering high school, Miyuki swore—
He would challenge Chris again.
On the sa team.
On the sa stage.
Head-to-head.
He didn't want to wait until the Sumr Tournant. He wanted that confrontation now.
That was why he had chosen Seidō.
To take the position of main catcher away from Chris with his own hands.
"This ti…" Miyuki told himself silently.
"I'll tear you down from that position."
He lifted the bat high, his eyes narrowing to razor focus.
He had batted once already — a clean, well-tid hit. Chris must have evaluated that information.
Miyuki's mind worked at high speed, recalling every detail of Hidezawa's pitches from earlier.
Every habit.
Every rhythm.
Every slight tell.
If he could grasp even one tiny flaw, He could hit the ball a long, long way.
"Whoosh!"
Just as Miyuki processed the final patterns, the ball arrived.
From the mont Chris entered the ga, the change in Hidezawa was dramatic. The shaky, unstable pitcher from earlier was nowhere to be seen.
His form was sharp again.
His control cleaner.
His velocity louder.
Miyauchi, having just left the field, was stunned. He had caught everything Hidezawa threw earlier. He had executed perfectly. By logic, Hidezawa should have perford well under him.
But compared to Chris
The difference was overwhelming.
"So fast!"
The pitch scread in like a bullet.
The sa pitcher. A different catcher.
A completely different atmosphere.
"Thwack!"
"STRIKE!!"
The umpire's voice cut through the field.
Miyuki's face flushed slightly. He had expected this. But experiencing it firsthand was sothing else entirely.
The challenge he sought… had finally arrived.
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