"Judging by that speed… it's close to 140 kiloters per hour, isn't it?"
"With that velocity, he still nailed the inside corner. Is this really a first-year's control?"
It wasn't just the batter who was stunned.
Everyone on Ichidai San High's side was shaken.
No one had expected a freshman pitcher to possess this level of command.
For the second pitch, Miyuki Kazuya mischievously set his glove in the exact sa spot as before.
Without hesitation, Ushijima Wakatoshi delivered again.
"Here it cos again—!"
The batter flinched instinctively as the ball scread toward him.
Thwack!
The pitch cut straight through the strike zone and buried itself into Miyuki's glove.
"Strike!"
With the umpire's call, the pressure on the batter visibly increased.
Miyuki glanced at the hitter, then subtly flashed a new sign.
Ushijima caught it imdiately and gave a faint nod.
He tucked the ball into his glove, steadied his breathing—
Then raised both hands and lifted his left leg.
Step.
Twist.
Whip-like release.
The pitching motion was identical to the previous two throws.
Even the ball's initial trajectory looked the sa.
"The speed—this one's slower!"
"You brat—don't underestimate !!!"
Convinced he had read the pitch, the batter exploded into a full swing.
The ball dove toward the low inside corner—
But just before reaching the plate—
It slid sideways.
A subtle lateral movent.
Just enough.
The bat sliced through empty air.
Bang!!!
The ball punched into the catcher's mitt.
"Strike three! Batter out!"
The umpire's call echoed through the stadium.
"Wow—! He struck out the first batter imdiately!"
"That composure—this first-year has nerves of steel!"
"Three pitches, three strikes, in his first official ga?!"
"That third pitch was slower, right? There was extra movent."
"Yeah—two-seam, most likely."
Ichidai San High's bench was left speechless.
In contrast, Seido's dugout erupted.
Even though they had prepared themselves ntally—
No one expected this level of dominance.
First official appearance.
First batter.
Strikeout.
"Nice pitch. Keep it up."
At first base, Yuki Tetsuya wore a rare smile.
Before the ga, he had genuinely worried about his cousin.
First official match.
First ti on this stage.
Pressure from Ichidai San High.
But now—
Those worries seed unnecessary.
Ushijima was far more composed than he had imagined.
"Nice one, Ushijima!"
"Keep going!"
The seniors called out encouragent one after another.
For a first appearance—
This was astonishingly stable.
"Unexpectedly calm," Rei Takashima murmured as she adjusted her glasses.
"Hm."
Coach Kataoka, standing like a mafia boss, gave a short nod.
Next up—
Ichidai San High's second batter.
Ushijima bent slightly, eyes locked forward, waiting for Miyuki's setup.
The batter stepped into the right-handed box.
Miyuki set his glove low on the outside corner.
Seeing this, Ushijima straightened, slid his fingers deeper around the ball, and adjusted his grip.
A standard four-seam grip—
Thumb underneath.
Index and middle fingers straddling the seams.
Palm carefully avoiding contact to preserve rotation.
Twist.
Snap.
With a flick of his fingers, the ball shot out.
140 kiloters per hour.
The batter reacted late, swinging in surprise.
Bang!
The tip of the bat barely grazed the ball.
Smack!
The ball flew foul, slicing past the third-base line.
"Foul ball!"
"Tch… it's faster than I thought," the batter cursed under his breath.
"And heavier, too."
Miyuki studied him quietly from behind the plate.
Reading a batter wasn't just about the swing—
It was about understanding what they were thinking.
"Two inside pitches, then one outside," Miyuki analyzed silently.
"Against , the first pitch went low and away."
"Next could be the sa… or he could reverse it."
"But judging from earlier, his inside control is exceptional."
The batter shifted his stance slightly forward, preparing for an inside pitch.
Miyuki noticed instantly.
Without hesitation, he adjusted his target and presented the glove again.
Ushijima saw the location—
And the corner of his mouth lifted.
"What a wicked man."
Miyuki caught the smile and chuckled silently.
Ball in grip.
Hands up.
No hesitation.
Ushijima fired.
The pitch ca in at the sa terrifying speed—
Straight at the batter's chest.
The hitter's eyes widened.
Instinct took over.
He recoiled backward.
Smack!
The ball slamd cleanly into the glove.
"Strike!"
The umpire's call rang out.
The batter stared in disbelief at the glove's position.
High inside.
The most intimidating spot in the strike zone.
From the batter's perspective, it felt like the ball was coming straight at his body.
At 140 kiloters per hour.
Even with protective gear—
That kind of pitch was terrifying.
Backing away was only natural.
"Damn it!!!"
The batter gritted his teeth.
"Low outside… then high inside…"
"That kind of cross-pitching is insane!"
"And he's still a first-year?!"
"140 kiloters per hour… what kind of monster is this?!"
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