Ichidai's catcher stared down Yuki Tetsuya with unwavering eyes.

They couldn't find a single weakness in him. Still—they believed. A prestigious school's player must never back down. No matter who stood across the diamond, they had to have the confidence to fight.

Kimura gave a slight nod, fingers tightening on the seams.

Even if you know what's coming… you won't hit it.

The man known as the Cold-Blooded Assassin unleashed his pitch.

Whoosh!

The ball sliced through the air like a surgeon's scalpel—clean, precise, merciless.

In Seido's dugout, the players stirred. This was no warm-up. Kimura was serious now.

"As expected of Yuki-senpai," Miyuki muttered under his breath, eyes glinting. He knew it better than anyone—Azuma Kiyokuni was a monster, yes. But in terms of sheer difficulty, Yuki was the bigger nightmare. He had no openings.

Ichidai's battery knew it too. Their focus ratcheted to maximum.

The ball screamed past. Yuki stood unmoving, eyes sharp.

Thwack!

"Strike!"

One strike. Zero balls. The pitcher held the edge. Ichidai's supporters exhaled in relief. Not joy—just release from the crushing tension.

Seido's bench wasn't worried. Yuki's patience was legendary. If there wasn't absolute certainty in the swing, holding back was the right choice. But they also knew what came next.

"The next pitch… he'll swing," murmured Kuramochi. Heads nodded.

If Ichidai dared throw in the zone again, the real battle would begin.

The catcher flashed a signal. "Want to bait him with a ball?"

Kimura shook his head coldly. Against anyone else, maybe. But against Yuki? A waste of time.

"This guy won't flinch. The only way is strength."

The catcher's lips curled. "Then we use it—low and inside. Absolute Razor."

It was Kimura's ace pitch. His blade. Over 98% strike rate. Only three men in the entire nation had ever hit it—and that was on the Koshien stage.

And against Seido? He had used this very pitch to handle Yuki before. That history gave them confidence.

Whoosh!

The Absolute Razor screamed in, curving sharp and clean into the strike zone.

And then Yuki moved.

When still, he was an immovable mountain. When he swung—he was thunder.

Boom!

The bat carved the air with a roar like a cannon blast. Ichidai's catcher felt his chest jolt just from watching.

He's stronger than before!

Then—impact.

Ping!

The sound was pure, devastating. The ball shot off like lightning, ripping straight through the defense. Fielders lunged desperately, but the ball was already past them before their feet even finished planting.

"It's through!!!"

Seido's dugout erupted.

"The same pitch won't work twice!" someone shouted.

A pitch no batter in West Tokyo had ever punished—obliterated in an instant.

Ichidai's legend, shattered.

Even Kataoka clenched his fist, eyes blazing.

"Yes. That's it!"

In order to rise, Seido had to topple West Tokyo's twin titans—Inashiro and Ichidai. And right now, their bats were striking those giants down.

Yuki charged to second. Zhou Hao, slower than his seniors but spurred on by the perfect hit, rounded third and thundered home.

The throw came late.

"Safe!"

The umpire's voice rang out.

"Score! Seido leads, two to nothing!"

No outs. Runner on second. The West Tokyo final had exploded into high gear right from the first inning.

And then, stepping into the box with a grin like a villain out of a nightmare, came Seido's cleanup.

"Hahaha! Hehehehe!"

Azuma Kiyokuni bared his molars in a feral smile. The crowd erupted in boos, groans, and nervous whispers.

Ichidai's supporters clenched their fists, half in anger, half in dread. Because they knew the truth—behind the grin lurked only danger.

Seido had struggled to scratch runs against Inashiro, barely surviving in extras. But today? Against Ichidai?

It was as if Seido had swallowed something explosive.

Why did they suddenly feel so unstoppable?

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