"Run!"
The players in the Seidou High School baseball team's dugout were momentarily stunned before they reacted.
What should Zhou Hao be doing at that moment?
He should be running without hesitation, running with everything he had.
He was already on the slower side, and if he didn't seize every second, what could've been a guaranteed score might be lost.
Matsuyama High School's baseball team had strong overall capabilities.
Although their players were positioned a bit forward, they hadn't fully approached the infield yet. So even though they didn't stop the ball immediately and had to retrieve it from the backfield, that didn't mean Zhou Hao had all the time in the world.
Fortunately, the Seidou players' worries were unnecessary. Zhou Hao was only relatively slow—he wasn't a turtle.
He made it from third base to home plate only about a second slower than the average speed of a second-string player.
With such a small gap, no matter how capable Matsuyama's players were, they couldn't throw the ball back from the deep outfield in time.
"Safe!"
"Seidou High scores the first run."
Score: 1–0.
In the dugout.
When Zhou Hao returned, the second-string players immediately surrounded him.
"Well done!"
"Your speed's still too slow. You need to work on that. After all, not every hit will give you that much time."
"From now on, we're counting on you."
The third-year seniors had already seen Zhou Hao's limitless potential. They also understood that with their current abilities, the chances of being promoted were slim to none.
In such a situation, they only had two goals:
First, to win today's game.
Second, to pass on their experience and help more capable underclassmen fulfill the dreams they themselves couldn't achieve.
It was with that in mind that everyone had gathered around Zhou Hao, pointing out the flaws he still needed to work on.
Kuramochi looked on with envy as Zhou Hao basked in the spotlight.
Not long ago, he had been one of the most promising freshmen.
But in just a few short days, his previously unknown friend had become the center of everyone's attention.
"As expected of Zhou-san... I can't fall behind."
Zhou Hao had seemingly become the focal point of the entire field.
But in truth, the person who contributed most to that run wasn't him—it was the one who hit the ball: Shimoike Akira.
As always, Shimoike had no sense of presence.
Even though he hit a powerful double, pushed the team's score forward, and even reached scoring position himself—his outstanding performance was obvious to all.
Yet when people talked about the play, their focus still fell on Zhou Hao.
This was the natural charm of a player.
An innate trait.
The game continued.
Two outs. Runner on second.
Now it was Seidou's fifth batter at the plate.
"Catcher, Miyuki Kazuya!"
Wearing glasses and not smiling, Miyuki gave off the impression of being scholarly and refined.
But the moment he stepped into the batter's box, cheers erupted—from both second-string and third-string players watching.
"Hit it, Miyuki-kun!"
"Look carefully, there's someone on second base!"
"Show those Matsuyama guys what you've got!"
…
Some unfamiliar with Miyuki asked in curiosity, "Is this player really famous?"
Every first-year player around wanted to roll their eyes at that question.
"Of course he is. That's Miyuki Kazuya."
"Even before joining Seidou, he was already the best catcher of our generation."
"Not to mention, he got promoted to the first string right after joining the team."
To the first-year players of Seidou's baseball team, Miyuki Kazuya was an undisputed legend.
No one could compare.
Even though Zhou Hao had just dazzled everyone, if you really put him side by side with Miyuki, every first-year on the team would choose to support Miyuki.
That was Miyuki's status among the Seidou freshmen.
Amid all the anticipation, Miyuki raised a finger.
"Whoa!"
"Is that a pre-hit signal?"
"So cool! That's so boss-like!"
All the chatter only made his fans more hyped.
Even the players on Matsuyama's team were affected.
Originally, when they heard they'd be playing Seidou's second string, they weren't too thrilled.
Sure, Seidou was a nationally famous powerhouse, but how strong could their second string be?
Besides, Matsuyama was one of the top four teams in Chiba Prefecture.
Yet the game had barely begun and they'd already been slapped several times.
First, the opposing pitcher gave them a harsh wake-up call. Then a seemingly weak batter smacked the ball cleanly.
Now the other team had already scored.
And judging from Seidou's attitude, they weren't done yet.
They wanted more.
"In your dreams!"
"Midorima, show them what we've got! Channel the energy you use to eat those rice balls!"
With the encouragement of his teammates, the chubby pitcher on the mound forced himself to get pumped.
"Okay!"
His voice was still dull, but this time, it was several times louder.
Midorima's large, fleshy hand gripped the white baseball tightly. As soon as Miyuki was ready, he stepped forward and pitched.
"Boom!"
From the sidelines, Seidou's players could clearly sense how powerful that pitch was.
But in the batter's box, Miyuki simply smirked as he watched it approach.
"Just what I was waiting for!"
It was as if he had been expecting that pitch all along.
As the ball neared, Miyuki decisively swung.
He was also a first-year, and didn't look particularly strong physically.
But his swing was completely different from Zhou Hao's.
Beneath his clothes was a well-trained, balanced body.
Even against a fast and heavy breaking ball, he could hit it cleanly.
"Ping!"
When Matsuyama's players saw this, their eyes went wide.
Again?
Their all-powerful pitcher was starting to look like a helpless child against Seidou's second string.
The white baseball hit the ground and bounced.
The third baseman for Matsuyama dove, but still couldn't reach it.
They could only watch as the ball rolled into the outfield.
"Safe!"
Miyuki, the batter, ran past first and stopped at second base.
And the runner on second, Shimoike, made it home.
"Seidou scores again! The score is—"
"WAAAAAAAH!!!!"
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