“I’m not going to lose.”

Isashiki Jun, with his little beard and fiery temper, had never been more serious.

He could not compare to Azuma Kiyokuni in his third year, nor Yuuki Tetsuya, and even next to his own classmate Kominato Ryosuke, he came up short. He would never admit it out loud, but deep down he knew the truth.

Azuma senpai, Tanaka senpai, Yuuki…

They were all incredible, far more polished than he was.

But accepting that did not mean he could accept being outdone by his juniors.

“Even if I’m bluffing, I refuse to lose right now.”

He set his mind, watched the incoming pitch, and whipped the bat through the zone with everything he had.

The catcher for Musashi High froze. He had not expected Isashiki to swing at all.

By now Musashi High had stopped underestimating any Seido player. Zhang Han had already shaken their confidence so badly that their whole mentality was cracking. They had grown paranoid. Kuriyama Minami threw every pitch with extreme caution.

Like this one. They did not dare enter the strike zone. They went straight for a waste pitch.

They had no intention of getting the out with a single ball. Even a lower-order Seido batter was dangerous. Seido might have been unlucky in recent years, but a starved camel was still bigger than a horse. Every player on that roster was still strong enough to punish a mistake.

Against anyone, even a rookie, Musashi could suffer a big loss if they slipped.

So their approach to Isashiki was careful and thorough. If the waste pitch fooled him into swinging, great. If not, they could still watch his reaction and learn what he was waiting for.

They stayed calm in the face of danger.

What they did not expect was that Seido batters, one after another, refused to act normal.

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Isashiki did not flinch, hesitate, or check his swing like a typical player reacting to a ball.

He swung straight through it.

The catcher’s eyes went wide.

Was this guy an idiot?

The pitch was so far off the plate that even if he touched it, it would go foul. At best they would get a free strike, which was not ideal, but acceptable.

Come on, he thought. Just miss it.

But what happened next shattered his understanding of baseball.

The ball, a good ten centimeters off the zone, was scooped cleanly.

“Tch. Not that hard.”

Isashiki twisted like an earthworm bending in half and somehow dragged the ball into play with a bizarre, contorted swing.

Holy cow.

The Musashi catcher felt his worldview collapse. Someone please explain what he just saw.

“Ping!”

Under the stunned eyes of the entire field, the ball shot out and dropped fair. The placement was unlucky. The fielder charged, scooped it, fired to first.

Isashiki Jun was out by a hair.

“Damn it!”

He was furious. Why? Why him?

It was his first official game representing Seido. Zhang Han, on his first day too, had ridiculous luck. A hit. An RBI. Even a walk.

And him?

He put the ball in play, fought for it, and still failed to reach base.

Someone had to be cursing him from behind. That was the only explanation.

“Beautiful assist!”

“Didn’t know you were so team-minded.”

Isashiki was out, but for Seido as a whole the result was great. His hit pushed Zhang Han safely to second.

One out. Runner on second.

Zhang Han was now in scoring position.

Neither Musashi nor most of Seido’s own players realized what a perfect chance this was.

While people were still teasing Isashiki, the next batter stepped in like a forgotten background prop and swung with zero hesitation.

In a pinch, an inside pitch is the easiest to attack.

“No better ball to hit.”

“Ping!”

The bat crashed into the ball and sent it flying.

“The rookie catcher, Miyuki Kazuya. Brilliant on defense, and now showing his power at the plate! A clean hit, bringing Zhang Han home.”

The score shifted to 3 to 2.

Seido’s strong batting lineup had come up empty the previous inning due to bad luck, but now the stadium was buzzing. Fans and players alike believed Musashi’s weaknesses were about to be exposed.

Less than an inning later, Seido crushed any remaining doubt.

They had only been half asleep. That was the reason Musashi had any opening at all. But chances like that were rare. Once Seido woke up, any opponent would be overwhelmed.

From the third inning on, Seido widened the gap. They scored two runs right away.

4 to 2.

If Yamada had not popped up at the end, they would have scored even more. Fans watched the excitement. Experts watched the shift in momentum. And anyone facing Seido could sense it: something had changed. The lower-order batters had lit the spark. The rest of the lineup was ready to burn straight through Musashi.

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