“Smack!” “Strike!
Batter out!
Change of sides!” Kataoka’s cold words echoed across the field, leaving the first-years frozen in disbelief.
The sixth batter, a highly regarded fourth batter from junior high, seemed unable to believe he was out.
He stood there, stunned, speechless.
Even though the first three batters of the first-years had been struck out easily in the first inning, the others assumed it was just a warm-up.
But in the bottom of the first inning, the second- and third-year seniors mercilessly showed them what high school baseball really was.
The glaring “5” on the scoreboard seemed to mock the ignorant rookies.
The gap is just this huge… After surviving the seniors’ attack, Hideaki Tojo was already drenched in sweat, pale, slumping in his seat, gasping for air.
And yet, in just a few minutes—mere minutes—the sides changed.
Almost every first-year’s face was etched with despair.
This is just a Red-and-White Game!
they thought.
Isn’t it supposed to test our level?
Why?
Why did the seniors play as if it were a real, official match, so fierce, so relentless?
Kanemaru clenched his teeth, pulled down his cap, and strode toward the field, a storm of determination and frustration on his face.
Kanzaki Yuto furrowed his brows slightly, picked up his glove, and headed to the outfield.
From previous observations on the screen, he could see the first-years’ dejection—but not to this extent… Like a stagnant pool of water.
In the first inning, Kanzaki Yuto had caught a difficult fly ball in the outfield and got a second-year senior out.
That had made the upperclassmen slightly cautious, and now the ball seemed to avoid him entirely.
It’s like watching a play unfold, two innings straight… Kanzaki Yuto shook his head in silent exasperation.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eijun practicing throws with Miyuki—not sure which inning Kataoka had sent him in.
He thought Eijun had been playing outfield first… But now, who knows?
With him thrown into the mix, anything could happen.
“Tanba really has an aura about him.” “Yeah, at this rate, this year’s tournament is promising!” “But these guys have no senior composure at all.
They’re completely crushing the first-years.” Some spectators praised Tanba’s performance, while others worried it might be too discouraging for the rookies.
“Bang!” Another beautiful hit to center field.
A smooth slide, and a third-year senior reached second base.
“Ha!
Ha!” Tojo panted on the mound.
This was only the second inning!
Hitting and base-running—it was a different league entirely.
On the mound, Tojo felt powerless and alone, his teammates unable to provide meaningful support.
Help?
Tojo let out a bitter laugh.
As the first line of defense, how many strikeouts had he and the catcher achieved?
None.
Zero.
Not a single one.
All outs came from forced catches or lucky tags.
The first inning cost five runs.
And this inning?
One out, three hits, one RBI… Huff… huff… “Bang!” Another long hit.
Luckily, it flew toward left field.
Although the seniors tried to control hitting direction, not every ball could be perfectly placed.
Kanzaki Yuto’s pupils narrowed.
The moment the ball flew, he judged its trajectory instantly and sprinted.
With a light reach, he caught it, getting the second-year senior out.
The senior slammed his glove in frustration and exited.
The crowd’s eyes brightened.
“Oh, that first-year has solid catching skills.” “Yeah, pretty good.
I heard he’s a transfer student—Kanzaki Yuto, right?” The spectators buzzed with interest.
Among the first-years, Kanzaki Yuto’s performance stood out, particularly his unwavering spirit.
No hint of the discouragement seen in other fielders.
Heh… Miyuki glanced at Kanzaki Yuto, a smile creeping from the corner of his eye.
Not surprising he said that line.
======= Top of the third inning, the first-years’ turn began with the seventh batter.
Kanzaki Yuto checked his batting gear and shoes in his seat.
“Strike!
Batter out!” Huff… huff… The last pitch was a curveball—its twisted trajectory deliberately intimidating.
One first-year even stumbled backward in shock.
He stared blankly as the catcher secured the ball.
“Hmph, kid!
If you don’t want to bat properly, get lost!
This field doesn’t need your kind!” Miyauchi Keisuke, a third-year backup catcher, glared coldly at the first-year, dismissing him.
“Hmph!” Two harsh breaths escaped his nostrils.
The first-year bowed, having no courage to retort.
Ugh… the first-years are hopeless, no spirit at all… the surrounding spectators muttered, losing interest.
Kanzaki Yuto had only caught the ball well—and it wasn’t even a particularly tricky one.
The crowd had merely glanced at him longer than the others.
Partly because the other first-years performed poorly, partly because he was from China.
Not because Kanzaki Yuto’s skill was exceptional.
“Strike!” “Foul!” “Strike!
Batter out!” In a flash, two outs were made.
Huff… Kanzaki Yuto opened his eyes, exhaling slowly.
He rose from the on-deck circle and walked to the batter’s box, bowing slightly.
“Please take care of me!” Hands gripping the bat, his demeanor changed instantly.
He stared coldly at the pitcher’s mound—Tanba Kouichiro.
Home run?
Making Kataoka notice him?
A roar from the crowd?
Yes, those were things Kanzaki Yuto wanted, but stepping into the batter’s box, all else vanished from his mind.
What he saw was where he stood.
Focus.
Only the here and now.