"The atmosphere has changed."
One of the alumni muttered this softly, almost to himself, eyes narrowed as he observed the field.
The score hadn't shifted in favor of the Old-timers. They hadn't closed the gap. They hadn't shown any explosive comeback.
And yet—
The air around the stadium had undeniably transformed.
Anyone with experience — anyone who had ever stood on a baseball field — could feel it.
Moments ago, despite being weaker overall, despite being freshmen, the New School Teammates had been toe-to-toe with the seniors. Led by the two monsters, Miyuki and Zhang Han, they had fought the Old-timers without fear. Their energy, momentum, and rhythm were balanced against the veterans.
The Freshmen even held a 3–0 lead.
Unbelievable, but true. If nothing major happened, if the rhythm continued like this. It wasn't impossible for the Freshmen to win the entire welcoming match.
Yes, the Old-timers Team possessed far stronger individual skill. Yes, their teamwork was far superior. Yes, they were the second team starters and First-string substitutes.
But baseball wasn't a game where being stronger always meant victory.
If that were the case, no one would need to play. They would just compare stats on paper.
In the current situation, based on pace and flow, the New School Teammates absolutely had a winning probability.
Yet just as they seemed poised to continue controlling the match. Everything flipped, because of one person.
Chris.
The second-year, half-Western catcher. The player who possessed a refined face, tall build, and that unmistakable air of leadership. He didn't need to do anything dramatic. He simply stepped onto the field.
And the entire Old-timers Team suddenly felt as though they had regained their anchor.
Their emotions stabilized. Their confidence revived. Their energy surged back. There was no logic behind it. No reasoned explanation.
It was simply Chris.
Zhang Han recalled something Coach Ono once said:
A true core player changes everything just by stepping onto the field.
A scattered team gathers around him. A chaotic rhythm becomes stable. He doesn't need to shout or command. His presence alone shifts the entire atmosphere.
At the time, Zhang Han thought Ono was exaggerating. Sure, he knew the gap between a prestigious team and a normal team. Sure, he understood that a star player could influence morale.
But to transform a team by presence alone?
To single-handedly shift the momentum of a match?
That sounded like something from anime. In the real world, one player, no matter how good, couldn't beat an entire strong team. Baseball wasn't a sport for lone heroes.
That was what Zhang Han believed.
But seeing Chris now, he felt his worldview wobble.
Because he had seen Chris in middle school too, when Chris captained Marugame Senior League. Chris back then was talented, skilled, and calm.
But he had never been like this. Back then, he couldn't shift the tide of an entire game by walking onto the field.
But now?
Now, just his presence… calmed the seniors, ignited their determination, and tilted the entire momentum of the match.
It was astonishing.
And it was immediately reflected on the scoreboard.
"Damn it!"
Isashiki Jun, the rough-looking second-year with the intimidating stubble, swung at a pitch outside the strike zone.
Against all common sense—
He hit it.
Miyuki felt his breath hitch. He hadn't expected that. Isashiki wasn't terrible, but he wasn't exactly someone you'd call a threat in batting practice.
Miyuki had assessed him as low-danger.
But now, in an actual game the man was playing like he'd just injected adrenaline straight into his bloodstream.
"Ping!"
The ball shot out, slipping past the Freshmen's defense.
Miyuki whipped around, searching desperately for someone to cover the gap—
But there was no one there.
Most of the Freshmen's defensive coordination had depended on the four players promoted to the second team — Zhang Han, Miyuki, Kuramochi, and one more. They had already been noticed by Kataoka and trained up rapidly.
But the other Freshmen? Their defense was still rough and incomplete.
Under pressure, their flaws were exposed instantly.
Isashiki Jun, who shouldn't have made it past First Base, somehow pushed himself all the way to Second Base.
And the Old-timers Team, smelling blood, immediately launched their counterattack.
Hit-and-run.
Then a squeeze play.
Their movements were fluid, unstoppable.
They scored their first run in the 4th inning.
3–1.
And then disaster struck again for the Freshmen.
A rookie fumbled what should've been an easy tag out. First Base even dropped the catch, letting the runner not only reach First, but continue all the way to Second.
One out. Runner on Second.
And stepping into the batter's box was Chris.
The stadium erupted. The second and third-years shouted so loudly it felt like the bleachers shook. Their trust in Chris was absolute.
Meanwhile, Miyuki Kazuya felt something molten surge through his veins.
This was it.
The moment he had been waiting for since joining Seidō. A fair, direct confrontation with Chris in a real game. This was the reason he chose Seidō. The reason he didn't pick any other strong school.
He didn't care about the outcome. He wanted this process—
To challenge Chris at full strength. To surpass him. To take the position of main catcher.
His blood was boiling.
His focus sharpened to 120%.
He was ready—
But his pitcher wasn't.
Miyuki turned back slightly, eyes widening. His partner, the freshman pitcher on the mound, was trembling. At the very moment Miyuki needed perfect coordination his partner was having a meltdown.
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