On Seido High School’s home field, Coach Kataoka stood alongside Coach Kiryu.
“Coach Matsumoto, thank you for coming all this way today.
The Summer Tournament is about to begin, so let’s have a good game.”
Coach Kiryu glanced at the roster in his hand.
“A match against Seido High School is always worthwhile.
But I see you’re starting a first-year pitcher.
I assume you have a plan for that, Coach Kataoka.”
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Or perhaps this is a secret weapon you don’t want your district rivals to see yet?”
After a pause, he added calmly, “Either way, let’s enjoy the game.”
Both teams took their positions and bowed.
“Please take care of us.”
The starting pitcher for Seido was Furuya.
Standing on the mound, he rubbed rosin onto his fingers, recalling what the coach had told him the night before.
“You’ve been through a very intense training camp.
Don’t focus too much on the result of the game.”
Furuya didn’t fully understand what that meant.
If he was on the mound, he had no intention of letting anyone hit his pitches.
He raised his glove and delivered the first pitch.
Clang.
The ball was immediately driven into the outfield for an extra-base hit.
From that moment on, the difference in strength became clear.
Kiryu High School’s lineup—last year’s national runner-up and known for its powerful batting order—was not just reputation.
In an instant, Seido was down by two runs.
“This isn’t working at all… we can’t stop them.”
“I thought Furuya could still strike people out like before, but it really depends on the opponent…”
The next pitch came in.
“Ball.
Walk.
Runners advance.”
The runner from third easily scored on the next play.
The stands began to grow uneasy.
“This is hard to watch…”
Furuya stood on the mound, wiping sweat from his face.
Damn it… there’s no movement on my pitches.
What am I supposed to do?
Coach Kiryu, observing from the dugout, turned to his runner.
“How is that first-year’s pitch?”
“The velocity is strong, but the balls are too easy to read.
We can attack him without problems.”
Kiryu nodded slowly, then his expression darkened.
“Coach Kataoka… I understand wanting to develop a secret weapon.
But if he breaks here, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He raised his hand.
“Attack him.
Hard.
Until that first-year is forced off the mound.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We should pull him now.
If his confidence breaks here, it’ll be over.”
But Coach Kataoka didn’t move.
“Furuya will pitch until the fifth inning.
That is final.”
Fortunately, Seido’s infield defense stepped up.
A sharp play in the middle infield turned what looked like a certain hit into a double play, finally ending the inning.
Kominato Ryosuke glanced at his younger brother on the field.
Even under this pressure… he still made that play.
He really is something else.
In the dugout, Sawamura handed Furuya a cup of water.
“Hey, Furuya.
Hang in there.
Don’t break here.”
“Hmph.
I’ll shut them down no matter what,” Furuya replied stubbornly.
Behind them, Miyuki laughed.
“I think you might as well get completely blown out today, Furuya.”
Before he could react, Sawamura grabbed Miyuki by the collar.
“Hey, Miyuki!
Are you just here to watch him get destroyed?
Call the pitches properly!”
“Oi, oi, I’m your senior,” Miyuki said, though he made no real effort to resist.
Instead, he looked amused.
The angrier Sawamura got, the more entertaining it seemed.
In the bottom of the first inning, Kiryu’s ace stepped onto the mound.
His expression was calm—and unsettlingly sharp, almost identical to his coach’s.
The real test had only just begun.
The first pitch was released.
Kuramochi made contact, but it wasn’t solid.
The ball carried a heavy, sinking feel.
He didn’t reach base, but his speed still forced the Kiryu defense to react immediately.
Even without a hit, he made his presence felt—a true speedster.
The second batter, Kominato Ryosuke, then showcased his trademark patience.
He fouled off strike after strike, refusing to chase anything outside the zone.
Pitch after pitch, he kept extending the at-bat until finally, after a twelve-pitch battle, he drew a walk and reached base.
The Kiryu ace clicked his tongue as he watched Kominato casually toss his bat aside and jog to first.
As a pitcher, there was nothing more frustrating than batters like that.
Ironically, both Furuya and Sawamura—watching from the dugout—found themselves silently agreeing.
Neither of them wanted to face Kominato in a real game.
Next up, the third batter, Jun, aggressively drove a ground ball into the infield.
Kominato advanced to second.
Then came the fourth batter.
Yuki stepped into the box.
Coach Kiryu narrowed his eyes, watching the Seido lineup carefully.
Each batter had a distinct and dangerous style.
Clang!
Yuki’s swing sent the ball screaming into the outfield wall.
“Tetsu! Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Great hit!”
“As expected of the captain!”
The Kiryu players stared at Yuki standing safely on second base, their expressions tense.
That swing had been far too fast—by the time they reacted, the ball had already slammed into the fence.
They hadn’t expected Seido’s fourth batter to be this strong.
He wasn’t just good—he was on another level entirely.
Kiryu’s coach quickly issued instructions from the dugout: if Yuki came up again, they should be careful—or even consider letting him reach base intentionally.
The fifth batter, Masuko, followed up immediately.
Clang!
A home run.
The power behind Seido’s middle order was overwhelming.
The sixth batter, Miyuki, was finally retired with no one on base, followed by the bottom of the order being shut down.
After the inning ended, Furuya stepped out of the bullpen.
His body radiated frustration and intensity, but the results were already decided.
And by the fourth inning…
The situation had completely collapsed.
Outside the field, manager Haruno finally arrived, breathless, carrying a large bag.
“Sorry I’m late!
I went to buy drinks and got stopped by an old lady asking for directions…”
She paused.
Something felt wrong.
The senior girls around her had their hands over their mouths, their expressions tense and uneasy.
Haruno followed their gaze.
On the field—
The fourth inning wasn’t even finished.
And Seido had already given up 11 runs.
“…No way.
Furuya-kun gave up that many runs?”
Furuya stood alone on the mound.
No one knew better than him how bad it had become.
As a pitcher, he didn’t want to leave the mound like this.
But today… his condition was far from normal.
Even some spectators had already started leaving.
Then, suddenly—
Furuya raised his hand.
Timeout.
Miyuki immediately felt a jolt of unease.
Don’t tell me…
Furuya lowered his head.
“Miyuki-senpai… I really don’t have it today.
The ball isn’t moving at all.”
He clenched his fist.
“I don’t want to just walk off the mound like this… please.
Give me some advice.”
For a moment, Miyuki exhaled in relief.
“You brat… you scared me.”