However, judging from the next two pitches—148 and 149 km/h—it was clear Kanzaki Ryou couldn't throw every ball at that terrifying 157 km/h.
After all, the faster the pitch, the harder it was to control, and the more energy it consumed.
Coach Suzuki looked at Kanzaki on the mound, already ahead with two Strikes, and felt a wave of helplessness.
Kawaji was already far behind. The game was practically decided, and facing Seidou's Ace at this point… the opponent wasn't planning to give them even a sliver of hope.
Fortunately, Kawaji had scored earlier. At least they wouldn't be shut out like Seika. That alone made the situation slightly less painful.
"Strikeout!"
The umpire's call echoed. Kawaji's third batter was out.
As he walked off, he passed the fourth batter and muttered:
"Don't pick pitches. Swing early. Just hit it."
The fourth batter nodded.
After watching six pitches, Kanzaki Ryou had already shown everything their scouting had expected:
Four Four-seam fastballs, one Two-seam fastball, and one Slider.
But it didn't matter.
At that speed, pitch identification was useless. Even if they knew what was coming, what good did it do? Could they hit it just because they guessed right?
Ridiculous.
Rather than wasting time trying to read him, it was better to swing with everything they had—maybe they'd get lucky.
Forget scoring.
Even making contact with Kanzaki Ryou's pitch would be enough to make them famous at Koshien.
And if Seidou went on to win the championship, Kawaji wouldn't be looked down on.
Stepping into the batter's box, the fourth batter stared at Kanzaki with burning determination.
Kanzaki blinked.
What the… why does this guy look so fired up?
He had no idea the batter had already abandoned winning and was just chasing personal glory.
If he could hit Kanzaki Ryou… he'd be known nationwide.
The more he thought about it, the more excited he got.
His bat felt hungry.
Come on, pitch it to me!
Kanzaki shivered.
Trying to ignore the batter's unsettling enthusiasm, he unleashed a powerful Slider.
It cut sharply with terrifying speed.
The batter roared and swung—still a beat too slow.
Pop!
"Strike!"
Hiss—
Instead of being intimidated, the batter's eyes shone even brighter.
Amazing.
Watching from the dugout was one thing, but standing here—facing the white ball flying at him—it felt like he'd be crushed if he didn't swing with all his strength.
He took a deep breath, trying to contain the trembling in his chest.
Kanzaki nodded inwardly.
A strong mentality. As expected from a team that made it to Koshien.
Next came an inside Two-seam fastball.
The batter swung, but the ball slid past his bat and into Miyuki's mitt.
Miyuki grinned.
Good power. Good timing.
But hitting Kanzaki Ryou so quickly? Impossible.
Kawaji lacked the one thing they needed most—time.
It was already the eighth inning. There was no way for them to adjust now.
The third pitch—a breaking ball outside—tempted the batter, luring a huge swing for strike three.
"Three outs!"
The eighth inning ended with the scoreboard still at 10–1.
Azuma Kiyokuni jogged over from third base, laughing loudly.
"Kanzaki! That opening pitch—you really scared me! Koshien's never going to forget that!"
Even Azuma had been shocked by the 157 km/h fastball.
He was sure every team in Koshien would now study Kanzaki Ryou with heightened fear and caution.
Advantages and disadvantages.
The disadvantage was that everyone would now obsessively analyze Kanzaki's pitching.
The advantage was simple:
A 157 km/h fastball forced players into constant tension.
And Kanzaki still had a secret weapon—
When batters braced for his ultra-fast pitches, his 120 km/h Changeup would destroy them.
"Senior Azuma, what's so funny? You couldn't hit that pitch either," Kanzaki teased.
Azuma's smile instantly froze.
This brat—he really wanted to strangle him.
"You better watch out. When we get back to school, I'm dealing with you."
"Hehe~? I'll tell Coach Kataoka you're bullying me."
"You little—GET BACK HERE!"
So the audience witnessed Seidou's captain chasing their Ace across the field, before Kanzaki hid behind Coach Kataoka like a child while Azuma greeted the Coach with a polite, overly sweet smile.
Top of the ninth inning.
Seidou's bottom order was up.
Araki struck out.
Yoshikawa grounded out.
Now, the ninth batter—Kanzaki Ryou—stepped into the box with his black bat.
If I hit a home run here, Kawaji's spirit will completely collapse, Kanzaki thought.
The pitcher—Kawaji's second-year relief—had better speed than Aomi Rin and could throw a sinker and Slider.
Good control. One walk only.
But no power.
No presence.
A typical regional-level pitcher.
At Koshien, that wasn't enough.
The pitcher felt suffocating pressure facing Kanzaki.
It felt almost the same as facing Azuma.
After a moment of hesitation, he followed the catcher's sign.
Kanzaki focused.
The moment the ball left the pitcher's fingers, his eyes narrowed.
There it is.
His swing carved through the air—clean, sharp—
Crack!
The ball soared toward center field…
And disappeared into the stands.