Signal?
Azuma Kiyokuni caught Zhou Hao's subtle movent from the corner of his eye.
Combined with the breaking ball he had just seen, a thought struck him.
A new pitch?
Just as the question flashed through his mind, Zhou Hao lowered his glove into a precise position.
Sawamura's quirk ball was completely irregular—so unpredictable that not even the pitcher himself knew how it would move. That uncertainty made Zhou Hao restless. He hated relying on chance.
But there was no other option. At this stage, they could only gamble. And if the gamble succeeded, the payoff would be tenfold.
Co on!
Sawamura noticed the signal and almost blurted sothing out—but stopped. Zhou Hao had warned him before: No words, just a nod.
"This guy…" Sawamura shivered inside. He even predicted my reaction.
Though he'd never admit it aloud, in his heart, Sawamura's respect for Zhou Hao had risen to a chilling level. To be able to anticipate thoughts before they were acted upon—how terrifying was that?
Yet, knowing this man stood beside him as a partner filled Sawamura with confidence. As long as he followed Zhou Hao's lead, even a monster like Azuma Kiyokuni could be brought down.
Sawamura fird his resolve and unleashed his pitch.
"Whoosh!"
The white ball cut through the air—then his wrist instinctively pressed down. A bad feeling jolted through him.
Azuma Kiyokuni's eyes lit up. He swung with absolute confidence. This one's mine!
But at the last mont, the ball plunged sharply, bouncing off the dirt before the plate.
A mistake? Everyone thought so.
The pitch skittered off the ground toward Higashi Kiyokuni's leg.
"You brat!" He sneered. He wasn't going to back down. If it hit him, it would count as a free base. Not glorious, but still a win against Zhou Hao.
But before it could hit—
Thwack!
Zhou Hao's glove snapped out in front of Azuma Kiyokuni's leg, snatching the ball cleanly.
"Did he… anticipate that?" Gasps rippled through the dugout.
Zhou Hao himself didn't react. His focus was on Sawamura. That sharp wrist press—intuition, pure and wild. This kid has beast-like instincts, Zhou Hao realized.
Sawamura's eyes widened. He caught that? At 130 kiloters per hour? Then no matter where I throw… he'll handle it.
The Seidou bench exploded in chatter.
"Holy cow, his reflexes are insane!"
"He read the bounce and still caught it!"
"Does he have eyes in the back of his head?"
One player muttered, "He might be better off as a catcher…"
The words earned him instant glares. Seidou didn't lack catchers—Miyuki and Chris were already among the nation's best. What Seidou lacked was an Ace. Zhou Hao filled that role perfectly. Replacing him was unthinkable.
Sawamura didn't have ti to dwell on their strange reactions. What mattered was Zhou Hao's unwavering trust—he hadn't scolded him, hadn't even moved. That silent confidence filled him with strength.
The next pitch ca sharper, the quirk ball dancing even more violently.
"Whoosh!"
The drop was visible even to the crowd. Azuma Kiyokuni swung hard—
Ping!
The ball veered foul down the third-base line.
"Tch!" Azuma Kiyokuni cursed. If I'd had my tal bat, that would've gone fair. Only now did he realize Sawamura's quirk ball wasn't just irregular—it carried vicious tailing action. This pitcher wasn't to be underestimated.
"You think this will stop ?" His grip on the bat tightened. His target had shifted. Zhou Hao was no longer his only concern—this rookie on the mound demanded his full power.
Zhou Hao gave his final sign: glove low and away.
"Pitch here, with everything you've got."
Two strikes already. If Sawamura attacked without hesitation, the odds of a strikeout soared past seventy percent.
"Got it!"
Sawamura roared inside and hurled the ball.
"Whoosh!"
The pitch scread toward the outside corner. Azuma Kiyokuni unleashed his full swing—
Boom!
The bat cut through the air with a deafening whoosh.
But it t nothing.
Thwack!
"Strike three!"
"Strikeout!!"
The umpire's cry was drowned by the eruption of cheers.
Azuma Kiyokuni—struck out!
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