The game reached the second inning, and the score on the field was three to zero.

Osaka Kiryuu High School Baseball Team, worthy of its title as the Cosmic Team, displayed a daunting strength that inspired both awe and pressure.

Previously, Seido High School Baseball Team had challenged many opponents, including several powerhouse schools. No matter which team they faced, Seido always managed to maintain a certain advantage. In simple terms, they were usually the dominant side.

Even when facing Inashiro Industrial and Ichidai Third High School, Seido firmly controlled the rhythm of the game. They dictated the pace, adjusted calmly, and forced their opponents to follow their lead.

But today was different.

Against Osaka Kiryuu, Seido not only failed to seize the initiative, they were completely suppressed.

Even after Hidezawa regained his rhythm and pushed himself to his limits, displaying one hundred percent, even one hundred and twenty percent of his strength, it still was not enough.

Two runs in the first inning.

One run in the second.

The Osaka Kiryuu lineup was terrifyingly efficient. Their batters were like monsters. As long as there was even the slightest opportunity, they would discover it instantly and exploit it without mercy.

Three to zero.

Since the beginning of the Summer Tournament, Seido had never fallen behind by such a margin so early in a game.

The players burned with frustration.

Yet frustration did not provide solutions.

They wanted to transform their anger into power. They wanted to retaliate immediately. But reality was merciless. No matter how desperately they fought, the mountain standing before them seemed immovable.

How could anyone overcome this?

At the cost of one additional run, Hidezawa finally managed to close out the second inning.

But there was no relief in his expression.

His performance was not the problem. He did not need comfort from his teammates. Hidezawa understood himself better than anyone. During those innings, he had used everything he had. His control was sharp. His velocity was stable. His breaking balls were precise.

And yet, they were still hit.

That was what weighed on him.

How could Osaka Kiryuu’s batters be so strong?

They did not chase recklessly. They did not appear hurried. Each swing seemed calculated. Each adjustment came naturally.

Hidezawa could not understand it.

He replayed the pitches in his mind. The locations were not bad. The sequences were not careless. And still, contact was made.

He felt a heavy pressure settling deep in his chest.

As the game entered the bottom of the second inning, expectations quietly shifted.

Everyone hoped Seido would respond.

Not only Seido’s supporters, but even neutral spectators anticipated resistance. This matchup had been promoted as a clash between the strongest batting lineups in the country. If Seido collapsed without struggle, the game would feel one sided and unsatisfying.

Even if they were going to lose, they should fight fiercely. They should show why they were feared.

The focus turned to Seido’s core lineup.

Azuma Kiyokuni stepped into the batter’s box.

The stadium atmosphere grew tense.

Azuma was not an ordinary hitter. He was known as a monster. Four home runs at Koshien. Overwhelming raw power. When he swung, the sound alone made fielders nervous.

He represented Seido’s offensive pride.

The pitch came.

Azuma’s swing was powerful and clean.

The ball soared high into the sky. For a brief moment, it looked promising.

But the trajectory betrayed him.

The ball climbed steeply, losing forward momentum as it drifted toward the infield. The shortstop of Osaka Kiryuu calmly adjusted his position, raised his glove, and secured the ball without difficulty.

“Snap!”

“Out!”

Azuma Kiyokuni was retired.

Just like that.

A murmur spread through the stands.

“This is too strong.”

“As expected of Osaka Kiryuu.”

“Nakata Hisashi. I thought he was just a substitute, but he is this powerful?”

On the mound stood Nakata Hisashi, wearing jersey number eleven.

Seido had conducted a thorough investigation of him before the game.

Third year.

One hundred seventy five centimeters tall.

Eighty kilograms.

Specialized in a fastball and a high speed curveball.

Maximum velocity of one hundred forty five kilometers per hour.

Among Osaka Kiryuu’s pitchers, he was not considered their strongest option. According to Seido’s earlier evaluation, he might not even appear in this matchup.

It was not arrogance. Based on Seido’s offensive performance in recent games, only top tier pitchers were expected to contain them.

Yet Osaka Kiryuu had sent Nakata to the mound.

And the effect was undeniable.

The pitcher Seido had not prioritized was now suppressing their lineup perfectly.

Coach Kataoka observed quietly from the dugout.

“A bullpen strategy,” he thought.

The moment Nakata appeared, Kataoka had already sensed Matsumoto Takahiro’s plan. Osaka Kiryuu intended to use depth. Rotate pitchers. Prevent Seido from building rhythm.

Nakata’s performance was impressive.

But Kataoka did not believe that Nakata alone could suppress Seido for a full nine innings.

Eventually, there would be an opening.

And once Seido seized that opening, they would not hesitate.

Given Matsumoto’s cautious and calculating nature, he would never gamble everything on a single pitcher.

Nakata was strong, but not someone worth an all in gamble.

Even so, Kataoka’s concern did not diminish.

A bullpen strategy had weaknesses, but when executed properly, it became a dangerous weapon.

For Seido, the game was developing in the worst possible direction.

If they failed to score soon, they would fall into a vicious cycle.

Osaka Kiryuu would continue rotating pitchers.

Seido’s batters would constantly adapt to new release points, new pitch sequences, new timing. That constant adjustment would prevent them from connecting their lineup smoothly.

It would become a disaster.

They had to find a breakthrough. But at this moment, there was none.

Kataoka felt anxious, yet there was nothing he could directly change from the dugout.

He could only trust the players on the field. And perhaps fate.

But Lady Luck did not appear inclined to favor Seido today.

Not long after Azuma’s out, Yuuki stepped into the batter’s box.

Another core of Seido’s lineup.

Calm. Precise. Reliable.

The crowd held its breath.

Nakata delivered with the same steady rhythm. Yuuki fought patiently, but the result was the same.

He was retired.

Nakata’s mentality did not waver. His control remained firm. His pitches were sharp and deliberate. From an objective perspective, his performance was nearly flawless. Across the country, a pitcher of his level would rank among the elite.

Even for Seido’s powerful lineup, producing hits and runs against him was far from easy.

The scoreboard still showed three to zero. And the pressure on Seido continued to grow.

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