Once again, Zhou Hao put the ball in play.

Ichidai had thrown everything at him—strength, tactics, even elaborate traps. None of it worked. Instead of getting him out, Zhou Hao stood firmly on base, unmoved, unstoppable.

From the stands, a groan rose from the Inashiro players watching.

"It's over…"

Four innings remained, but no one dared believe Ichidai could recover. Not against this Seidō. Not today.

Even if accidents happened, Seidō would grit their teeth, endure, and still find a way to win. The will to advance to Koshien burned too brightly to be extinguished.

"The gamble failed," one voice muttered. "Compared to when we faced him, Zhou Hao's on a completely different level now."

In just two days, his growth was monstrous. His Spiral Ball was still devastating, but now his straight fastball touched 145 km/h. That combination alone was enough to make any hitter tremble. And as if that weren't enough, at the plate he was perfect—three at-bats, three hits.

How were they supposed to respond?

The answer was simple: they couldn't.

The game pressed on. Seidō's No. 3 batter stepped up. Yuki Tetsuya.

The crowd's cheers swelled, confident in their captain. Yuki ignored it all, focusing only on Kimura atop the mound.

"That stance again?" Ichidai's catcher muttered, nerves fraying. With Zhou Hao untouched, their morale had already crumbled. Now, they had to face the silent wall that was Yuki.

"You have to hold on, Kimura!"

The weight of expectation pressed down, but Kimura's eyes hardened. He refused to bow. The Ace of Tokyo wouldn't accept humiliation at the hands of a rookie.

"Swish!"

The pitch tore through the air with undiminished strength. Kimura's stamina hadn't faltered, but Yuki was ready. His countless daily swings, honed until each one carried his full focus, now bore fruit.

Ping!

The ball exploded off his bat and streaked into the outfield. Zhou Hao sprinted from first to third, only halting when a bullet throw cut off his path. But Yuki was already standing safe at second.

No outs. Runners on second and third.

The crowd erupted. Ichidai's players didn't. Their expressions were grim—they had prevented a run, but they all knew it was only temporary.

Next up: Azuma.

His laughter was sharp, cruel, echoing across the diamond.

"You never expected this, Ichidai! Your day has finally come!"

For years, Ichidai had been a wall in Seidō's path. They had crushed Seidō again and again, their merciless bats exploiting Seidō's lack of a reliable Ace. Azuma had endured that humiliation for far too long.

Now the tables had turned. Seidō had Zhou Hao, a true Ace who shut the door on every hope. And that meant it was finally time to repay the debt.

Kimura glared, sensing his intent. I won't let you through. Not you too.

He fired his pitch with perfect control. But today, fortune had abandoned him.

Azuma roared, his swing splitting the air.

Boom!

Ping!

The ball rocketed into the distance. The catcher's face went pale before it even landed—he knew the outcome the moment bat met ball.

"Hahahaha!" Azuma's laughter followed the soaring hit.

Zhou Hao stormed home. Yuki thundered in behind him. Two runs, clean and crushing.

"Safe!"

The scoreboard shifted. 8–0.

The stadium gasped. Never before had Seidō carved such a margin against Ichidai. They had always been stifled by the lack of a dependable Ace. Now, with Zhou Hao on the mound, they no longer had to fear giving runs back. They could swing freely, hit boldly.

That was the difference. That was the power of an Ace.

8–0. The moment those numbers appeared, the game was effectively over.

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