The top of the first inning ended with a score of 0:0.
In the Matsuyama High School baseball team dugout, the chubby head coach angrily scolded, "Weren't you all saying that their second string isn't even worthy of playing against you? Is this how you answer me with your actions?"
The Matsuyama players all hung their heads in shame.
At the start of the game, their opponents had given them a resounding slap in the face.
They had never imagined in their wildest dreams that a team's second string could put up such a dominant performance.
Of course, the Matsuyama players were still unwilling to accept this deep down.
"That pitcher isn't a big deal. Give us time, and we'll definitely start hitting him."
"The real headache is their catcher."
Recalling Miyuki Kazuya's pitch calling, the players of Matsuyama High School felt their heads ache.
That guy didn't play by any standard rules, and they couldn't figure out his patterns at all.
"Now that's more like it. If you feel humiliated, then play properly. It's okay if we didn't score, but don't go giving away runs next. That would be the real shame. Now get out there!"
Bottom of the first inning — Seidou High School's turn to bat.
Acting as the home plate umpire, Kataoka stared through his protective mask at the boy stepping into the batter's box.
Unlike typical power hitters, Zhou Hao didn't have a burly frame or an overwhelming presence.
Yet it was precisely this seemingly unremarkable player who had repeatedly blasted balls and secured key hits on the field.
Even Kataoka had heard of his performance.
"Let me see for myself what you can really do out here."
Kataoka's eyes, like two spotlights, focused on Zhou Hao.
To say Zhou Hao wasn't nervous would be a lie.
In all of Seidou High School, the man whose words carried the most weight was Kataoka.
If he wished, a single word could promote Zhou Hao to the first string.
But if he was dissatisfied…
Zhou Hao might have to grind it out in the second string for another six months, or even longer.
Just like the third-year seniors who dreamed of making the first team, Zhou Hao felt the same way. He also wanted to get promoted quickly and shine among the first-string players.
That way, maybe his glitchy system would grant him a new achievement reward.
Stepping into the batter's box, Zhou Hao fixed his gaze firmly on the pitcher.
Matsuyama High School's ace was a massive, overweight guy.
This chubby player had a bloated body and clumsy movements.
He was the complete opposite of the ace from City Grand Third High that Zhou Hao had previously faced.
But once this hefty pitcher stood on the mound and gripped the ball, the aura he gave off felt like it could engulf everything.
Even Kataoka involuntarily froze for a moment upon seeing it.
Such an overwhelming presence!
This level of pressure—none of Seidou's own pitchers had ever displayed something like that.
"Midorima! Pitch it!"
At the shout from the dugout, the pitcher named Midorima finally moved.
His legs were as thick as pillars, and he clearly couldn't lift them high, only lurch forward.
Yet even such a simple step forward made both Zhou Hao on the batter's box and Kataoka at home plate feel as though a mountain of flesh was bearing down on them.
That was a whole mountain of meat!
Boom!
The pitch was thrown like a collapsing mountain.
Zhou Hao had already activated his Sharingan. He was fully aware of his limitations.
Without that skill, there was no way he could compete with these monsters on the field.
Even with the Sharingan activated, the oppressive feeling from this "mountain" was still terrifyingly intense.
Zhou Hao had to adjust his breathing several times just to resist the urge to step back or retreat.
As the ball neared, he decisively swung.
With the Sharingan on, the pitch didn't seem that fast, and it landed squarely in the strike zone.
Zhou Hao had no reason not to swing.
Clang!
The bat made contact with the ball, and Zhou Hao felt like the base of his thumb was splitting apart.
"Was that a rock I hit?!"
He silently cursed in his mind.
The force coming from the ball nearly made him lose grip of the bat.
The spot he had planned to hit changed direction entirely.
The ball flew out but veered foul down the first base line.
"Smack!"
"Foul!"
The Matsuyama players lit up.
"Yeah! Think we're easy to bully?"
"Midorima, show him your power!!"
Hearing his teammates cheer, Midorima scrunched up his entire face like a steamed bun.
"Got it!"
His voice sounded muffled and unimpressive.
But his pitching was anything but weak.
Back in Seidou's dugout, the players watching felt a chill go down their spines.
"This guy's power behind his pitches is on another level!"
"Didn't expect a top-four pitcher from Chiba Prefecture to have this kind of strength…"
Back behind home plate, while everyone else was focusing on the pitcher, Kataoka was observing Zhou Hao.
Unstable lower body!
Weak core strength!
Loose grip on the bat!
Overall, Zhou Hao's body had not undergone proper athletic training.
In terms of physical condition alone, Zhou Hao shouldn't even be part of Seidou's second string.
But it wasn't all bad.
Even if none of Zhou Hao's metrics passed Kataoka's standards, he couldn't deny that the boy had one major strength.
That was Zhou Hao's vision—his ability to pick pitches and time his swings.
The pitch just now had a very high spin rate, but Zhou Hao had perfectly predicted its landing point and connected cleanly with the bat.
That's why he was able to hit it.
Despite all his shortcomings, that one ability alone was enough to make him worth cultivating.
Physical condition can be trained.
Especially at Seidou High School—they had lots of experience in that area.
But Zhou Hao's gift…
His talent for precisely identifying the pitch location couldn't be developed through simple training.
Only someone truly gifted could do that.
Kataoka nodded silently.
He had acknowledged Zhou Hao and would have the team keep a close watch on him moving forward.
But could Zhou Hao be promoted to the first string?
Kataoka still couldn't make that decision just yet.
To earn a promotion, talent alone wasn't enough.
He needed to prove his value.
And that—was exactly what Zhou Hao lacked the most right now.
"When you're faced with a pitch you can't hit, what will you do?"
Zhou Hao seemed to feel Kataoka's gaze and his expression grew solemn.
That chubby pitcher... was his natural counter.
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