Three years ago, Zhang Han watched a Koshien live broadcast for the first time, encouraged by his friends from Matsukata.

At that time, he was struck by how clear the footage was. The camera angles were rich and varied, every detail captured with care, and the game itself was thrilling to watch. Even the commentator sounded lively and engaging.

Back then, Zhang Han had only been learning baseball for a few months, and he was deeply impressed by the players’ performances on the field.

Since then, the quality of Koshien broadcasts had continued to improve. They even began incorporating elements that felt almost animated, leaning toward a secondary-dimension style. Outstanding players were given six-dimensional charts that displayed speed, strength, control, and other attributes. Some even had cartoon avatars and signature moves designed for them.

When Zhang Han first saw this, he thought it looked ridiculous.

But that was also when he began to realize just how powerful the secondary-dimension entertainment industry in this country truly was. It accounted for nearly ten percent of the national GDP.

In Japan, the line between fiction and reality had already started to blur.

At the time, Zhang Han did not fully grasp what that number meant. Later, after deliberately researching it, he finally understood how massive that ten percent really was.

Although Japan was not large in land area and did not have an especially big population, its total GDP ranked among the top in the world, second only to North America and China.

The annual economic output exceeded five trillion US dollars.

Ten percent of that meant more than five hundred billion US dollars.

If that amount were evenly distributed among China’s population of 1.4 billion, it would be roughly equivalent to giving every person around 2,500 yuan.

When Zhang Han saw those figures, his feelings were complicated.

But even then, it was still a distant understanding.

He saw it all as an outsider. The numbers were shocking, but they did not truly resonate with him.

That changed now.

Now, Zhang Han was standing on the Koshien stage himself.

Above him, three small drones hovered quietly, while more than a dozen others filmed the entire stadium from different angles. Cameras and cameramen were positioned all around the field.

The cameramen hid themselves in the most inconspicuous corners. If Zhang Han had not deliberately looked, he might not have noticed them at all.

There were even more fixed cameras, so many that they were impossible to count.

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It felt unreal.

This kind of scene was something Zhang Han had only seen in futuristic animated films.

Now, he was right in the middle of it, standing in the batter’s box, facing the bald pitcher from Hosen High School.

Cheers thundered in his ears.

The voices of Seido High School’s supporters washed over him in waves.

Despite the noise, Zhang Han’s hearing felt unusually sharp.

He vaguely caught the shouts of Kuramochi, Maezono, and the others.

“Zhang Han, hit it!”

“Zhang-san, go!”

Kawakami, listening from the side, could only shrug helplessly.

Why shout so loudly? Did they really think Zhang Han could hear them from this distance, in an environment this noisy?

In fact, Zhang Han did hear them.

But at this moment, he did not respond.

His attention was entirely focused on the opponent in front of him.

Although the national tournament Zhang Han had participated in before could not compare to Koshien in scale, the experience he gained there was still useful.

To use a less-than-perfect analogy, it was like comparing a marathon to a five-kilometer race.

The distance of a five-kilometer race was nowhere near that of a marathon.

But both were long-distance runs, and certain principles applied to both.

For example, pacing.

In long-distance events, those who sprint recklessly at the start usually end up collapsing at the end.

Because Zhang Han had national tournament experience and did not carry as deep an emotional attachment to Koshien as many of the upperclassmen, he could face this stage with a calmer mindset.

He relied on the same methods he had used before to regulate his mental state.

How did Zhang Han deal with tension?

He had two personal techniques.

The first was relaxation. He eased mental pressure through deep breathing and small, almost imperceptible movements.

The second was focus. By concentrating entirely on the task in front of him, nervousness naturally faded away.

That was exactly what he did now.

At first, he was indeed nervous.

But he adjusted quickly.

He stepped into the batter’s box, settled his stance, and prepared to swing.

These steps sounded complicated when described, but for Zhang Han, they took only a moment.

Very soon, he returned to his usual state.

He raised the bat high and stared intently at the pitcher’s mound.

The bald pitcher stood there, about 1.8 meters tall, with a solid build. His pitches were exceptionally fast.

From the numbers displayed earlier on the electronic speed gun, his fastest pitch had already reached 147 kilometers per hour.

He had struck out Yamada and forced Yuuki to hit a fly ball.

Part of that success came from Seido’s lack of familiarity with their opponent.

But more importantly, it was the result of real ability.

Although the bald pitcher’s face looked fierce and his appearance was far from pleasant, his skill was undeniable.

With speed like that, trying to hit his pitches head-on would require some strategy.

Zhang Han deliberately leaned forward, pressing close to the inside edge of the strike zone.

This immediately put the Hosen catcher on edge.

Zhang Han was effectively sealing off the inside corner.

The pitcher was powerful and threw hard, but his control was not perfect.

With Zhang Han crowding the plate like this, an inside pitch had a high chance of turning into a hit-by-pitch.

This kid is ruthless.

No wonder he became the team’s ace hitter in his first year.

But if you think this will scare us, you’re wrong.

The Hosen catcher signaled for an inside pitch.

So it comes down to courage.

Let’s see who backs down first.

The ball came flying in.

Zhang Han stepped back.

The white ball skimmed past the edge of the strike zone.

But before the Hosen pitcher and catcher could even feel relief, their expressions froze.

Zhang Han, having retreated half a step, twisted his body and swung the bat in an extremely awkward posture.

“Ping!”

The bat struck the ball.

The baseball arced through the air and dropped cleanly into a gap in Hosen High School’s defense.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep