Top of the eighth inning.
One out. No runners. Two strikes.
Zhou Hao stood frozen in the batter's box.
Narumiya Mei had thrown two straight fastballs, and Zhou hadn't even moved.
Zhou Hao's Sharingan had seen it all—the grip, the release, the trajectory.
"So you've seen through me already, huh?"
In Zhou Hao's eyes, every pitch was clear.
But seeing the ball… and hitting it well… were two very different things.
Narumiya's Straight ball was vicious—fast, sharp, with wicked tailing action.
Before today, Seido had no scouting report on Narumiya.
He was a rookie with zero tournament experience.
No one expected Inashiro to gamble on a first-year in a match this critical.
And yet, here he was.
Not just surviving—dominating.
The Seido batters had been thrown off completely.
Even Zhou Hao, with his Sharingan, had only been targeting breaking balls.
He could make contact with the fastball—but not drive it.
He needed power for that.
And power… wasn't his strength.
Narumiya Mei saw it too.
That's why he went Straight ball. Straight ball. And now—one more.
"Time to finish it."
Everyone in the stadium knew—
If Mei struck Zhou Hao out here, Seido's morale would take a brutal hit.
He could feel the pressure. And he welcomed it.
"You're not strong enough," Mei whispered as he wound up.
"This pitch will end it."
But Zhou Hao didn't flinch.
He knew.
Everyone thought he was done.
Fans. Players. Opponents.
But he wasn't hearing them anymore.
Only the ball.
The pitch came. Faster than the first two.
To Zhou Hao's Sharingan, it still looked slow.
But he knew—perception wasn't reality.
He couldn't feel the pitch's weight or movement until contact.
And this time, he wouldn't wait.
He locked in.
Tongue against the roof of his mouth.
Grip tightened.
Weight shifted forward—
Swing.
"Ping!!"
The bat cracked against the ball.
Catcher Harada's eyes widened.
"He connected!?"
The ball soared.
High. Deep. Far.
It wasn't a home run, but it flew seventy, maybe eighty meters.
From a 142 km/h pitch.
A straight fastball.
Zhou Hao had hit it clean.
Everyone watching—players, coaches, fans—stood in awe.
"He actually did it…"
"He hit that fastball…"
"Unbelievable…"
A silence fell for a split second.
Then—
"That's Zhou Hao for you!"
"A man who creates miracles!"
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A/N: Got cold so 1 chapter for now, sorry