"Another first-year?!"
"And he's mixed race?!"
"Look at those legs—he's taller than my neck!"
The moment Carlos stepped into the batter's box, the stadium buzzed.
Ordinarily, a powerhouse like Inashiro Industrial would never hand chances to first-years. Just earning a spot on the bench was a big deal.
Now, they had two first-year players on the field.
That could only mean one thing—they weren't just prospects.
They were here to change the game.
Behind the plate, Chris watched Inashiro's dugout cautiously.
Coach Kunitomo, arms crossed, stood like a statue—expression unreadable.
Yet from Chris's perspective, the man radiated an intimidating presence.
Like a predator waiting for a sign of weakness.
So that's the aura of West Tokyo's reigning kingpin…
Chris swallowed.
If Seidou had just managed one or two more runs earlier, they could've broken Inashiro's momentum already.
But now?
They were fighting for survival.
Narumiya Mei, still on second base, radiated hunger. He wasn't content to be stranded there.
Chris signed for a cautious approach.
"Let's test him first."
Yoshida nodded from the mound and delivered the pitch.
"Whoosh!"
To everyone's shock, Carlos squared to bunt!
"Clang!"
The bunt rolled softly down the line.
Though surprised, Azuma Kiyokuni (playing third) charged and fielded it cleanly.
"Trying to pull that on us? You're still too green—"
He looked up mid-throw—and froze.
Carlos was already nearly at first base.
That speed?!
Azuma quickly fired to first.
"Thwack!"
Yuki caught it cleanly, showing off Seidou's defensive coordination.
But—
"Safe!"
The umpire made the call.
Carlos's foot had touched the bag just before the throw arrived.
No outs, runners on first and second.
The stadium was stunned.
Despite Seidou's sharp defense, Inashiro's two first-years had cracked it open.
Chris's eyes narrowed.
This wasn't just about raw skill.
Yoshida, while holding up decently, was clearly losing his rhythm.
And against a team like Inashiro? Even small mistakes had big consequences.
"First batter, Hanaki!"
The crowd murmured—some fans clearly wanted Seidou to make a pitching change.
Even if Yoshida was their ace, this wasn't the time for pride.
It was about protecting the lead.
But Coach Kataoka in Seidou's dugout didn't flinch.
No signs of a substitution.
Chris understood the reasoning.
Zhou Hao, their freshman pitcher, didn't have the stamina to last from here to the final out.
If they sent him in now, they might be out of options later.
Even if it's dangerous, we've got to hold on.
Chris looked toward the mound.
"Senior Yoshida, you get it, right?"
Yoshida did.
"I haven't spent three years at Seidou just to fall apart now!"
He gathered himself and fired.
The pitch was solid—but not spectacular.
And Hanaki, batting for the third time that game, was ready.
"Get outta here!"
"Clang!"
The hit shot toward third base.
Azuma Kiyokuni dove—gloved it—but the ball ricocheted off and bounced behind him.
Disaster.
If he hadn't touched it, maybe the outfielders could've played it clean.
But now, no one could reach it in time.
Narumiya Mei, already in motion, rounded third and charged home.
"Safe!"
Score: 3–1.
But it didn't end there.
Carlos—those two long legs pumping—raced from first to second, then third—
And he didn't stop.
"He's going for it?!"
Seidou scrambled.
The outfielder made the throw—
Chris caught it just as Carlos lunged toward home.
The catcher, also mixed-race, met him head-on.
With perfect timing, Chris swept his glove into Carlos's side—
"WHAM!"
The two players collided and tumbled together, rolling across the plate.
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