Boom!!

The Spiral Ball detonated through the strike zone like a cannon shot.

Kodaira, Ichidai's fifth batter, froze. His eyes bulged, his body stiff.

They had studied this pitch. They knew it was coming. And still—seeing it in person was something else entirely.

Zhou Hao's fastball was good, no doubt. But this Spiral Ball? It was a weapon. A pitch no ordinary batter could even hope to touch.

Even knowing that, Ichidai's sluggers had convinced themselves they'd be different. After all, they were Ichidai—one of the nation's powerhouses. Their swings weren't just honed—they were instinct. Thousands of reps turned into muscle memory.

Didn't their cleanup hitter Gotou just blast a straight ball for a double? Why couldn't they do the same?

Kodaira stepped in believing that. By his third swing, the illusion shattered.

Snap!

"Strikeout!!"

He hadn't come close.

One out, runner stranded on second.

The Ichidai dugout winced. Their supporters groaned.

Next came Muraguchi, their sixth batter. Thick-armed, teeth clenched, a powerhouse in his own right.

"Don't panic. Be patient. Chip away," their director had said.

But patience was a fragile thing. Down by five runs in the final—they couldn't help but swing for the fences. Every batter wanted to be the one to crack the rookie.

And every one of them underestimated him.

Whoosh!

Zhou Hao's Spiral Ball roared in. The scoreboard flashed: 142 km/h. Faster than his straight ball.

Muraguchi's swing was full of fury, but the pitch twisted violently, breaking late. His bat sliced only air.

"Strike!!"

Again.

"Strike!!"

And again.

"Strikeout!!"

Back-to-back Strikeouts. Two outs now. Runner still marooned.

In the stands, Azuma Kiyokuni finally understood. Kataoka's words clicked in full.

It wasn't about being perfect. Hits could happen. But runs? Those were forbidden. The moment danger arose, Zhou Hao would shut the door with his Spiral.

And Kataoka had trusted him to do it.

Ichidai's seventh batter stepped up, muscles as thick as any cleanup man. But this time, he came in with a new plan.

"Since you're leaning on the Spiral… we'll just grind down your arm instead."

If they couldn't score immediately, they'd foul off pitches, raise his count, and force him off the mound.

Or so they thought.

Zhou Hao fired to the heart of the zone.

The batter swung instinctively—

Ping!

The ball popped harmlessly upward.

Snap!

Zhou Hao barely moved, snaring it calmly in his glove.

"Out!!"

Inning over.

A double, followed by three straight outs. Two strikeouts and a pop-up. Ichidai's momentum snuffed out before it could spark.

The stadium buzzed with awe.

On the edge of the stands, a player from Inashiro watched silently, arms crossed.

"He's already dominating the entire field," he murmured.

And the terrifying truth was clear: Ichidai hadn't even realized it yet.

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