On the field, the core players of both teams were facing off.
Azuma Kiyokuni's physique was imposing. Just standing in the batter's box was enough to put immense psychological pressure on his opponents. Before hitting, he took a few practice swings. Each time the bat sliced through the air, it felt like thunder exploding.
"Boom!"
"Boom!!!"
That overwhelming aura sent shock straight into Musashi's catcher. His eyes were full of confusion as he stared at Azuma Kiyokuni.
"Is this guy really a high school student like us?"
He didn't look like one at all.
His burly build, his rugged face, the two missing teeth that whistled when he spoke — everything about him looked more like a delinquent middle-aged man than a high schooler. If someone told the catcher Azuma was some street thug in his thirties, he might have believed it.
This person was Azuma Kiyokuni? One of Tokyo's strongest hitters. In the eyes of many, not just one of them, but the strongest.
Among the hundreds of people cheering in Seido's section, at least half were shouting his name. A small detail, but a very telling one. If he didn't have overwhelming power and results to back him up, how could he earn that level of support?
"Hoo… hoo…"
Before they even officially clashed, Musashi's catcher was already terrified by Azuma's sheer presence.
Zhang Han, watching from the dugout, was amazed.
So having a fierce appearance really does give you an advantage on the field?
Was Azuma-senpai's swing terrifying? There was no doubt. Never mind the stories — just from the time Zhang Han had practiced with him, he knew Azuma's reputation was no exaggeration. It was real.
He was terrifying.
In more than a dozen practice games, he had hit over twenty home runs. The number of regular hits was countless. And that was just practice. In official games alone, Azuma had hit over thirty home runs.
That was not a small number at all.
Seido's results had been mediocre in recent years; they rarely survived more than four or five rounds in each major tournament. They never made it far. Calculating from that, aside from the first semester of his freshman year when he wasn't a regular, Azuma only played a little over twenty official games.
More than thirty home runs in twenty-something games. An average of one to two home runs per game.
This was Seido's core hitter. The monster known as Azuma Kiyokuni.
In all of Tokyo, only a handful of hitters could be compared to him.
Such an opponent might seem almost ordinary when he was joking with teammates. But the moment he stepped into the batter's box, the psychological pressure on the pitcher and catcher was beyond imagination.
"Should I pitch around him?"
The thought flashed instinctively through Musashi's catcher. With a runner on base, he didn't want to face Azuma directly.
Kuriyama, on the mound, also felt immense pressure.
This surprised even him.
He had heard for two years that his old friend was no longer the same as before — that Azuma was now renowned across Tokyo, hailed as the number one hitter. Rumor said even pro baseball scouts had shown interest in him.
And this was Seido, a team that hadn't even reached Koshien in years. Their players had very low exposure. For Azuma to still attract pro attention… his talent and potential spoke for themselves.
Kuriyama had heard all of this many times. He had even bought magazines containing Azuma's interviews and flipped through them over and over, comparing the star described on the pages to the boy he remembered.
They didn't match at all.
Kuriyama Minami's feelings were complicated. He was happy for his old friend, yet at the same time, stubbornly unconvinced. Back in middle school, his skill was not inferior to Azuma's, he might even have been better.
So how did Azuma get the golden ticket to Seido and rise to become a star player? How did he become someone praised across the country?
These thoughts flashed through Kuriyama's mind in an instant. He was unwilling to back down before even fighting.
"No!"
He shook his head firmly at the catcher.
Musashi's catcher secretly gritted his teeth. Pitchers were always so self-centered, completely ignoring the suffering of the catcher.
But he had no choice now. He could only support his pitcher.
"You know very well," he muttered under his breath, "if the pitch is easy to hit, we'll get blown away instantly. So the location has to be tricky, and the speed as fast as you can throw."
He took his stance, ready to receive the pitch.
On the mound, Kuriyama narrowed his eyes. The moment he made up his mind, he had already accepted all consequences.
If he didn't face Azuma head-on here, then he probably had no future worth talking about.
"Swish!"
He threw the ball with all his strength.
In the batter's box, Azuma Kiyokuni still held a sliver of private caution toward Kuriyama. Clearly, his former teammate had left a deeper impression on him than expected.
But once he stepped into the box, Azuma entered a frenzied state. At this moment, no matter who the opponent was, he had only one thought:
Hit the ball. No discussion.
"Boom!"
As his bat swung, a violent gust blasted out. Within a two-meter radius around him, it felt as if a small tornado had formed.
Musashi's catcher felt the air vanish from around him. For a full second or two, he couldn't even breathe. When Azuma finished his swing, the sensation finally faded. By then, the baseball was already flying far, far away.
"Ping!"
The ball shot through the sky like a meteor, leaving a white trail behind it as it soared at incredible speed. It eventually flew out of the stadium.
"Tch."
Azuma clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction, gripping his bat tightly.
Just a little off.
If that pitch had been a bit more inside, it would have stayed fair. If it hadn't flown foul, it would have been a home run.
What a pity…
"Foul!"
The explosive hit plunged the entire field into silence.
It took several seconds before people finally reacted.
"My goodness, what was that?"
"His swing is even more terrifying than before!"
"How is he a high school student?"
"That man is Tokyo's number one hitter — Azuma Kiyokuni."
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