"The bat was knocked away again!"
The stadium roared, and the comntator chuckled as he clarified:
"Why did I say again? Well, this isn't my first ti watching Seidou play. I wasn't comntating back then, but I saw it with my own eyes—Zhou Hao blasting a batter's bat clean out of their hands."
He laughed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Honestly, I thought that now we're in the semifinals, facing elite teams like Inashiro Industrial, we wouldn't see that kind of dominance again. But here we are..."
He didn't need to finish his sentence.
Everyone understood what he ant.
Inashiro Industrial—the undisputed kings of West Tokyo, frequent contenders at Koshien, and Seidou's longti nesis.
Their leadoff hitter had made solid contact with Zhou Hao's pitch just monts ago.
But now?
Their second batter had his bat knocked clean out of his hands.
The crowd supporting Seidou went absolutely wild.
They had witnessed this spectacle before—but against Inashiro? That changed everything.
This wasn't just another flashy mont.
This was revenge.
Year after year, Seidou had fallen short of Koshien, and Inashiro Industrial had played a major part in that heartbreak.
Now, Zhou Hao was returning the favor. With force.
In the Inashiro dugout, tension was sky-high.
"We should've been ready! How did the bat even slip?"
"Look at the pitch speed! It's not that simple!"
Unlike Hachioji or Akita Stadium, Jingu Stadium was equipped with state-of-the-art pitch-tracking tech.
While most fans hadn't paid much attention to pitch speed during the ga, soone in Inashiro's dugout did.
They glanced up at the scoreboard.
And froze.
"141 kiloters per hour?!"
A Spiral Ball—Zhou Hao's signature pitch—was clocked at 141 kph.
In the world of high school baseball, anything over 140 is elite fastball territory.
But this wasn't a fastball.
It was a Spiral Ball.
"That's not supposed to be possible…"
A shiver ran through the Inashiro bench.
Zhou Hao's Spiral Ball was already difficult to handle because of its unique trajectory.
Now it was coming in at pro-level speed.
The second batter, who had just struck out, sat in stunned silence.
He couldn't shake the image of the bat flying out of his hands.
Zhou Hao had just recorded a strike, and the mound felt like it belonged to a god of war.
"BOOM!"
Another Spiral Ball thundered in.
Chris, behind the plate, couldn't help but smirk.
"So that's why you were so stubborn, huh…"
He finally understood. Zhou Hao wasn't being reckless—he was awakening.
This kind of surge didn't happen often.
Sotis it was a ntal switch.
Sotis it was muscle mory syncing perfectly with instinct.
But when it clicked, a pitcher could level up in real ti.
And right now, Zhou Hao was undergoing that transformation.
This was the kind of miracle you'd expect to see at Koshien.
The Inashiro second batter stood frozen, helpless as Spiral Ball after Spiral Ball scread past him.
He couldn't ti it.
Couldn't track it.
Couldn't swing at it.
"Strike!"
"Strike!!"
"Strikeout!!!"
Two outs.
No one on base.
Zhou Hao had shut down Inashiro's #2 hitter completely.
And now, stepping into the batter's box—Inashiro's third batter, their cleanup slugger, one of the Top Ten Power Hitters in West Tokyo.
The tension in the stadium thickened.
Inashiro's dugout watched in silence.
Not a single player blinked.
The slugger gripped the bat tightly and stared at Zhou Hao.
"BOOM!"
The next pitch exploded off Zhou Hao's fingertips. The baseball blurred through the air.
The slugger's pupils widened.
"What… it's even faster than before?!"
"Strike!"
His body reacted slower than his instincts. The pitch was gone before he could even swing.
And that wasn't all.
The angle—the movent—everything had changed.
This wasn't just about power anymore.
Zhou Hao's pitches now had razor-sharp precision, elite velocity, and terrifying break.
"What the hell… Was he hiding this level the whole ti?"
He couldn't believe it.
If Zhou Hao had this kind of pitching in him, why hadn't they seen it sooner?
But there was no ti to process it.
Zhou Hao wound up again—
"Boom!"
Another Spiral Ball.
Then another.
The slugger swung with everything he had—and still ca up empty.
"Strike!"
"Strike!!"
"STRIKEOUT!!!"
Three up. Three down. All three swinging.
The inning ended.
The side was retired.
And Jingu Stadium fell completely silent.
Zhou Hao had arrived.
Not just as a pitcher.
Not just as a freshman.
But as a dominant force ready to carry Seidou to Koshien.
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