No outs, runner on first base.

As one of Seido High School Baseball Team’s three third-year pillars, Captain Tanaka Kakuei relied on his rich experience to deliver a leadoff hit, giving Seido’s offense an ideal start.

Following him to the plate was Seido’s ace pitcher, Hidezawa.

“Hidezawa, it’s your turn!”

“Show them the charm of a power hitter with a cannon arm!”

The atmosphere in the stands instantly exploded.

Seido’s cheerleaders and supporters were in a frenzy. They could win.

Not just today’s game—but also the one against those guys sitting across from them in the stands. That burning confidence spread like wildfire, infecting nearly everyone watching.

“Seido! Seido!!”

Amid the thunderous chants, Hidezawa stepped into the batter’s box. His body swayed slightly with the rhythm of the cheers, as if he were about to merge with the crowd itself.

The feeling was intoxicating.

This was something he never experienced on the mound. When a pitcher threw, his own cheer squad never roared like this. This kind of support belonged exclusively to hitters.

Facing the opponent’s ace under such deafening cheers—just thinking about it was enough to make one’s blood boil.

Hidezawa was completely immersed, ready to swing.

Most of the teammates in Seido’s dugout shared high expectations for him.

Seido’s three powerhouses—Tanaka, Hidezawa, and Azuma Kiyokuni—were known not for pitching, but for their hitting. They formed the backbone of Seido’s terrifying lineup.

Later, Yuuki rose to prominence, and Zhang Han joined the ranks. Gradually, attention shifted to the trio representing each grade—Azuma, Yuuki, and Zhang Han—as the most frightening core.

Even so, that never erased the contributions or strength of the third-year powerhouses.

Now that they were fired up, many teammates felt that Seido scoring runs was simply inevitable.

Of course, not everyone thought that way. Zhang Han sat in the dugout, watching the field with a thoughtful gaze.

No outs. Runner on first.

And at the plate stood someone as dangerous as Hidezawa.

Logically speaking, even if Aoyama High School’s players weren’t panicking, they should have shown at least a trace of tension. Yet from their expressions and movements, there was no sign of anxiety at all.

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That was interesting.

If Aoyama’s players weren’t fools, then it meant that in their eyes, this situation wasn’t a crisis.

“Ping!”

Hidezawa made contact, but the result was an infield grounder.

“Tch!”

He flung his bat aside in frustration. He’d misjudged the slider—it was trickier than expected, throwing off his timing.

Aoyama’s shortstop, Nijo, charged in, fielded the ball cleanly, and fired it to second. The relay to first followed immediately.

“Pop!”

“Out!”

“Pop!”

“Out!!”

“Double play!”

Tanaka’s hard-earned hit vanished in an instant as Aoyama turned a textbook double play.

“As expected of iron-walled Aoyama High!”

“That defense is no joke.”

“A true turtle shell…”

In Aoyama’s section of the stands, their supporters smiled broadly.

This was exactly the style they admired—calm, patient, unyielding. That was why they supported Aoyama in the first place.

Before today, many had quietly wondered whether this defensive approach would hold up against a true powerhouse.

Now they had their answer.

Even against Seido, Aoyama stood firm.

The third batter, Yamada, failed to make an impact as well—striking out in rather embarrassing fashion.

“This is strange… both teams ended the first inning scoreless!”

0–0.

Despite Seido’s momentum and performance, they hadn’t managed to score even a single run.

“These guys are just lucky.”

“They won’t be lucky forever.”

After searching for explanations and finding none, most people could only chalk it up to Aoyama’s luck.

Miyuki Kazuya frowned slightly and muttered to himself.

“How can there be so many coincidences?”

One double play might be luck.

But turning that double play and striking out Yamada-senpai?

Could all of that really be explained by luck alone?

That turtle shell wasn’t just for show—it was genuinely tough.

And more than that, Miyuki felt something unsettling.

From just that brief exchange, he sensed that Aoyama High School was hiding a master.

Why?

Because Aoyama didn’t have a proper director—only a supervising teacher. Their catcher, Nishi Kaze Retsu, was the one who usually led practice.

Could it be him?

Miyuki’s eyes locked onto Nishi Kaze.

If that were true, then today’s game might turn into something far more troublesome than expected.

Top of the second inning. Aoyama High School’s offense.

Their cleanup hitter, Nishi Kaze Retsu, stepped into the batter’s box.

There was no doubt—he was the absolute core of Aoyama High School. Successfully suppressing him was crucial for Seido.

By now, Hidezawa’s condition was fully activated.

Just like last autumn, when he had worked with Chris, once Hidezawa hit this state, he became a top-tier pitcher even by Tokyo standards.

Now, with Miyuki.

“Whoosh!”

The white ball arrived in front of Nishi Kaze in the blink of an eye.

Nishi Kaze suppressed his urge to swing and carefully tracked the pitch.

To be honest, while the speed far exceeded Kujo’s, it wasn’t so fast as to inspire despair.

But the problem was—

“Pop!!”

The ball slammed violently into Miyuki’s glove, producing a sharp, explosive sound.

Standing beside the catcher, Nishi Kaze felt a chill run through him.

How much force did it take to make a glove sound like that?

After a brief duel, Nishi Kaze could only manage an infield pop-up, which Tanaka calmly caught at second base.

“Pop!”

“Out!!”

The next batter followed shortly after.

“Pop!”

“Out!”

“Strikeout!!!”

Another three up, three down.

Even Seido’s own players could hardly believe what they were seeing.

Was the man standing on the mound really their ace?

This was just too cool.

************************************

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