“A two-run home run! The monster Azuma Kiyokuni fulfills his mission, blasting a go-ahead homer!”

“The score is now 5–4! Seido High School takes the lead, completing a stunning comeback against Ichidai San!”

“Damn, that’s terrifying!”

“What nonsense—this is Azuma Kiyokuni we’re talking about. Do you really think Tokyo’s strongest hitter is just a title?”

Although the development on the field was vastly different from what many had imagined, it didn’t diminish the enjoyment of the game in the slightest. On the contrary, it exceeded expectations.

A go-ahead home run in the late innings—this was the kind of scene one might only witness once after watching countless games.

To see it live was nothing short of a blessing.

Inside the Seido High School Baseball Team’s dugout, the atmosphere exploded.

Joy, relief, and excitement intertwined as cheers rang out. Even though the players had believed in their ability to overturn the situation in the final two innings, that belief had remained just that—belief.

Until the score was actually reversed, no one had dared to guarantee anything. But now, everything had changed. As long as no accidents occurred in the final inning, victory was within reach. Smiles spread across every face.

When Azuma Kiyokuni returned to the dugout, the teammates showered him with praise without holding back.

“Well done, Kiyokuni!”

“That’s the spirit of our third-years!”

“As expected of our cleanup hitter!”

Azuma Kiyokuni showed not the slightest hint of modesty. He patted his stomach and laughed loudly, clearly enjoying the moment to the fullest.

It felt too good.

Nearby, Isashiki Jun, watched him with unconcealed envy. As a second-year, Isashiki had always believed he was competing with Yuuki. At least, that’s what he told himself.

And Yuuki, among all the second-year players, had long stood shoulder to shoulder with Chris. By last autumn, he had already become an indispensable force for the team—one of Seido’s true core players.

The reason Isashiki idolized Azuma Kiyokuni wasn’t just his overwhelming strength. It was because Isashiki believed that only by becoming as powerful as Azuma could he continue standing on the same stage as Yuuki.

“I can’t fall behind,” Little Beard muttered inwardly. “I have to catch up.”

Meanwhile, Azuma dragged his bulky frame through the dugout and stopped in front of Zhang Han. At this moment, Yuuki was stepping up to bat.

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Zhang Han was adjusting his cap and glove. He was next in the lineup, and it was time for him to head to the on-deck circle.

“Senpai?”

Zhang Han was surprised to see Azuma approach him.

Recently, the third-year seniors had been paying unusual attention to both him and Yuuki. Zhang Han could understand why they focused on Yuuki—but being included himself puzzled him.

This Summer Tournament was the last high school competition for the third-years. Once they lost, their high school baseball careers would officially end.

Beyond winning, many responsible seniors had begun consciously guiding the juniors they favored.

They hoped that after they graduated, these younger players would quickly mature and lead the team forward.

Thinking about it, one couldn’t help but admire Coach Kataoka.

Among directors of powerhouse schools, Kataoka—despite his stern and cold exterior—was actually one of the most humane. Many graduates returned just to see him, and the team atmosphere remained healthy.

Competition between grades existed, but it was positive. There were flaws, of course, but they were overshadowed by these strengths.

Seido High School Baseball Team was a strangely magical place. Many players even regarded it as a second home.

Living there was harsh, exhausting, and demanding—but countless people were still willing to give their all within it.

Zhang Han occasionally felt the same. The environment was simple. Everyone worked toward a single goal.

It felt… good.

But his prematurely mature mind reminded him that such days wouldn’t last forever. Carefree student life was destined to be short. He still had a future to build.

Back to reality.

Zhang Han could understand Tanaka, Azuma, and Hidezawa guiding Yuuki, Tanba, and even Miyuki.

But why him?

No matter how well he performed, he could never become the face of this team—let alone its leader.

He was an international student.

Zhang Han had learned that lesson early, back in the Matsukata Senior League.

If roles were reversed, if this were a mainland school, even with equal ability, an international student would never be pushed to the forefront. Public acceptance aside, it wouldn’t be good for the school’s image.

Zhang Han knew his position. He might become a key contributor, even a core player.

But the team’s symbol? That would never be him.

Regardless of Zhang Han’s thoughts, Azuma Kiyokuni stood directly in front of him.

“Well?” Azuma said proudly, eyes wide like a bull’s. “My home run was stronger than yours, right?”

Zhang Han was momentarily speechless.

“Boss,” he replied dryly, “if you used that kind of provocation back in my hometown, even third-graders wouldn’t fall for it. Can’t you be a little more subtle?”

“…Was it that obvious?” Azuma turned and asked his teammates.

The other third-year seniors wished the ground would open up and swallow them. They covered their faces and nodded awkwardly.

“No matter how you do it, as long as it works,” Azuma said stubbornly. “Kid, don’t embarrass yourself.”

Zhang Han smiled wryly.

“I know what you mean. A one-run lead isn’t safe.”

Their opponent was Ichidai Third High School. In terms of offensive power, they were not inferior to Seido.

Seido could score two runs—or more—off Ichidai San’s rookie pitcher.

Likewise, Ichidai San’s hitters, facing Hidezawa who had already thrown over 140 pitches, were fully capable of mounting a counterattack.

To be safe—and to ease the pressure on Hidezawa-senpai—the more runs Seido could score in this inning, the better.

Even if he could never be the ace or the leader, Zhang Han had no intention of remaining a background character.

Whether for himself or for Seido High School Baseball Team as a whole, he would give everything every time he stepped into the batter’s box.

And perhaps, when he eventually graduated and applied to college, those efforts would become real advantages.

At this moment, Zhang Han hadn’t even considered professional baseball.

To him, baseball was still just a hobby.

At most—

A hobby that might help shape his future.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep