When Zhang Han and the others performed their defensive drills, they showed remarkable strength. This moved Manager Ota and the coaching staff. Compared to last year's barren results, this year's Seido had genuinely welcomed several promising newcomers. It wasn't a full harvest, but it was far better than before. At least now, there were players who looked worth developing.
Compared to the current second-years and third-years, the Director and coaches might be better off pinning their hopes on this new batch. For now, they looked promising.
The only question was whether the school would give Coach Kataoka enough time.
Seido had failed to reach Koshien for several consecutive years. Even if the principal and the school board still trusted Kataoka, rumors were getting louder. Some said that in his first year, the team only made it to Koshien because they were riding the momentum from Coach Sakaki's era. Those players were mostly trained by Sakaki too. Kataoka had simply reaped the results.
Since Kataoka took over for real, the team hadn't broken into the top four, let alone the finals. If this continued, even the principal and board members who supported him wouldn't be able to keep him. A prestigious team lived and died by its strength. And that strength didn't only refer to players. It included the head coach as well.
Patience had limits.
Despite looking like a harmless, bumbling idiot, Manager Ota's thoughts were more delicate than anyone realized. It was just that no one understood those thoughts.
Whether it was the spectators or the second-team players practicing alongside them, everyone's attention was locked on the new recruits. The freshmen were performing well. The upperclassmen's gazes grew more complicated.
At some unknown point, Coach Kataoka had arrived at the training area. His expression did not soften at the sight of the rookies doing well. Instead, he seemed displeased.
"Are you just tickling it? We increased the number of defenders. Why haven't we increased the number of hitters?"
The third-year player in charge of the second team felt cold sweat running down his back. This intensity was already their usual maximum. It was enough for them to perform well. If they increased it any further, the freshmen would be completely overwhelmed.
And it wouldn't just be the freshmen. Even some of the older players wouldn't be able to endure it.
"Add two more hitters. Double the infield hitting frequency."
Ignoring the upperclassman's pained expression, Kataoka gave his order coldly.
What had originally been three hitters became five. The pace doubled.
Including Zhang Han, the freshmen had already been using their full strength. They had been barely keeping up. If the rhythm increased now, it was obvious what would happen.
"Director…," Manager Ota tried weakly. Even he couldn't bear to watch anymore.
A sharp glare from Kataoka shut him up immediately.
"If you can't survive the full practice, then before the welcome match, none of you get to participate in any practice games."
"But the second team's game is already scheduled. When the time comes…"
Ota didn't finish, but the meaning was clear.
At this intensity, there might not even be nine players left standing.
"However many remain, that's how many. If it's not enough, pull substitutes from the First-string."
Kataoka's tone left no room for argument.
Is the pressure on the First-string really that heavy?
Ota was not clueless. After working with Kataoka for years, he understood his moods. If Kataoka was behaving like this, the Spring Tournament must be going badly.
They had just won their Tokyo Sweet Sixteen match and secured a seed for the Summer Tournament. Logically, Kataoka shouldn't be acting so desperate.
Then Ota suddenly remembered something he had overlooked.
Their next Spring Tournament opponent.
Ichidai Third High.
Currently at their peak.
Earlier, Kataoka had gone to watch Ichidai Third's match footage…
Zhang Han and the others had no idea what was on Ota's mind. They only knew that with Kataoka's order, their suffering began.
Baseballs rained down endlessly, giving them no time to breathe.
Before, Zhang Han had only made three or four errors in total. But once the pace increased, in less than thirty minutes he had already made over ten. Kuramochi and Shirasu weren't any better. Their errors were rising fast.
And the scariest part wasn't the errors. It was the stamina loss.
Half an hour of high-intensity defense wasn't much different from running nonstop for half an hour. Their energy drained even faster. Sweat poured down their faces. Their bodies felt wrung dry.
Zhang Han gasped desperately, his consciousness blurry.
This was when the gap between them and the older players became painfully evident.
Those upperclassmen made far fewer errors. Not only that, they still had stamina left. To be fair, most were merely "better off" than the freshmen. But a few of them… still had energy to spare.
"Again! Again! Come on, I'm not done yet!"
Next to Shirasu, an upperclassman with a small beard moved like a machine, his voice full of fighting spirit.
Shirasu, in contrast, looked like he might collapse at any moment.
Kuramochi had already collapsed due to an error. His muscles trembled violently, and he couldn't get up.
Compared to them, Zhang Han's condition was slightly better. As a core player from a powerhouse junior high, he could barely keep pace with Seido's ordinary second-team members.
"Damn it… damn it…"
Kuramochi had never felt so helpless. Other than fighting and baseball, he had never excelled at much since childhood. Baseball was his pride and his faith.
Back home, his skills had always been the standard others chased.
This was the first time he fully understood the meaning of "there is always someone better, and a higher sky above."
"Is that all you've got?"
An upperclassman with narrow eyes approached Kuramochi. His tone was gentle. His smile looked kind.
"If you're tired, go rest."
Warmth surged in Kuramochi's chest for a split second.
If not for the next sentence, he really might have been moved.
"There are plenty of people waiting to take your spot."