Hell week was finally over.
Four brutal training matches had co and gone. As for the results?
They didn't matter.
What mattered was what happened yesterday.
During the ga against Shohoku High, Tanba was struck by a pitch after a wild throw slipped from the opposing pitcher's hand.
The diagnosis wasn't catastrophic — but it was serious enough.
He would miss the early stages of the Sumr Preliminaries.
That single piece of news cast a shadow over Seido.
"There are five matches before the final," Miyuki said after reviewing the West Tokyo tournant bracket.
Furuya's eyes scanned the sheet.
"So we'll only et Inashiro in the final."
"Before that, they'll face Ichidai Sankou in the quarterfinals," Kominato added calmly.
Only Ushijima Wakatoshi remained silent.
He rembered sothing.
A dark horse.
Yakushi High School.
But speculation ant nothing.
If they stood in the way, they would be crushed on the field.
Still, the third-years were unusually quiet.
"Are the seniors okay?" Kuramochi asked softly, glancing at Yuki and the others.
"There's nothing we can do," Miyuki replied. "But losing Tanba right now… it hurts."
The third-years had trained together for three years.
Now, just before their final sumr, one of their pillars had fallen.
It was a heavy blow.
At that mont, Coach Kataoka approached.
"Ushijima."
"Yes, Coach."
"Your responsibility will be even greater from here on."
Ushijima nodded.
No hesitation.
Even with the tournant approaching, training continued as usual.
But sumr vacation ant one more obstacle.
Final exams.
After exams, the Sumr Preliminaries would begin.
Inside the classroom, Ushijima yawned lazily.
"Haa…"
Then suddenly—
A face appeared inches away from him.
"Ugh—!"
Sawamura looked like a dying puppy.
"Ushijima! Please save !"
"I'm going to fail math! Tell the secret to passing quickly!"
"If I fail, I'll be banned from practice!"
Ushijima stared at him silently.
Refusing was pointless. Sawamura had no sha.
He circled key formulas and important problem types.
"Review these."
Sawamura looked at the notes.
"…I don't understand any of this."
And so, between chaos and bickering, the last day of June arrived.
Ushijima opened the final Silver chest of the month.
Money again.
Several thousand.
Not bad.
But today was what truly mattered.
The June Golden Treasure Chest.
He inhaled.
Exhaled.
[Ding! Treasure Chest Opened.]
[Congratulations! You have obtained: Gold High-Speed Jet Ball.]
For a mont, Ushijima didn't know whether to laugh or sigh.
No Golden-level Control.
But…
A Shootball upgrade.
A standard Shootball is a breaking pitch that moves in the opposite direction of a Slider.
For a right-handed pitcher:
A Slider breaks from right to left (toward a left-handed batter's inside).
A Shootball breaks from left to right (toward a right-handed batter's inside).
It's essentially mirrored movent.
The Shootball usually tops out around 145 km/h.
The Slider typically sits between 130–140 km/h, with high-speed versions exceeding 140.
But the High-Speed Jet Ball?
It was different.
It sacrificed so movent for velocity.
Maximum potential speed:
160 km/h.
Nearly indistinguishable from a blazing four-seam fastball out of the hand.
That was its true terror.
If a batter mistook it for a straight fastball—
The late inward movent would shatter their timing.
Ushijima went to a secluded practice net.
He didn't want Miyuki or the others to know yet.
Not until it was ga-ready.
He began throwing.
And quickly noticed sothing.
With his current Silver-level Control, the Gold High-Speed Jet Ball couldn't reach full velocity.
At most—
Just above 140 km/h.
To unlock 150 consistently, he would need at least Gold-level Control.
To reach 160?
Diamond-level Control.
Otherwise, forcing velocity would ruin stability and turn it into a bad pitch.
"System chanics…" Ushijima muttered.
Silver Control → ~140
Gold Control → stable 150
Diamond Control → 160 with sharper break
He clicked his tongue.
Still no Control upgrade.
That was the true missing piece.
With Golden-level Control, his four-seam, sinker, and now this High-Speed Jet Ball would beco lethal weapons.
But in the end, he accepted it.
A Gold pitch was still better than opening a Golden chest and getting cash.
…Although.
If a Golden chest dropped hundreds of thousands?
Signing in every month might make him a billionaire.
He paused.
Then shook his head.
Money was aningless.
Speed.
That was what mattered.
And now—
He possessed another weapon capable of breaking 150.
The West Tokyo Sumr Preliminaries were about to begin.
And Seido's ace…
Was still evolving.
User Comments
0 comments from readers