"His pitching speed actually went up?"
Zhou Hao had thrown pitches exceeding 150 km/h as early as the first inning.
The players of Seibō High School witnessed it with their own eyes.
But back then, they still tried to rationalize it.
Zhou Hao's past data showed:
His fastest pitch hovered around 148 km/h
On his best days, he occasionally brushed 149 km/h
But never did he break 150
So when he suddenly fired one pitch at 150, the Seibō players told themselves:
"It's just a fluke."
"A one-off."
"It won't affect the game."
But now—Zhou Hao was throwing continuous pitches above 150 km/h.
A difference of one or two kilometers sounded small on paper.
But in baseball, that was the difference between:
A fastball… and a super-fastball.
148 km/h was elite.
Difficult, oppressive, strong.
But 150 km/h and above?
That was a different world altogether.
High school pitchers who reach that speed are so rare that you can count them on one hand.
And those who can maintain it continuously?
Monsters.
With this speed alone—no breaking balls, no deception—
Zhou Hao could overpower 90% of high school batters in Japan.
And he wasn't just throwing fastballs.
He was throwing Spiral Balls—
a pitch that twisted violently like a drill, combining raw speed and impossible movement.
Trying to hit it was harder than climbing to heaven itself.
Even Oishibashi, Seibō's Fourth Batter and one of the top sluggers in the nation—
a man who could stand against Kuroda—
looked like a frostbitten eggplant the moment he saw the pitch.
He couldn't hit it.
He couldn't time it.
He could barely even react.
For a nationally-ranked slugger…
that reality was crushing.
The Seibō Coach noticed it immediately.
"Don't aim for a hit! Just make contact!!"
He no longer hoped for a base hit.
At this point, just touching the ball would be a victory.
Oishibashi inhaled deeply.
He tightened his grip.
He focused on the incoming Spiral Ball.
The pitch came screaming in.
He swung with everything he had—
"BOOM!!!"
Even from the catcher's box, Chris felt the impact of Oishibashi's murderous swing.
Yet—
The bat struck nothing.
"Strike!!"
Two strikes.
The Seibō slugger was cornered.
The stands erupted.
"Did you see that!? Even Oishibashi was late!"
"He can't even time Zhou Hao's pitch!"
"This is insane—Zhou Hao's gotten even stronger!"
Even the Seidō supporters felt chills.
This wasn't just strength.
This was domination.
Oishibashi gritted his teeth, determination burning in his eyes.
But determination meant nothing before a pitch you couldn't touch.
If rage alone could hit the Spiral Ball,
Zhou Hao would be covered in holes by now.
The crowd roared:
"GO! GO! GO!"
"Zhou Hao! Strike him out!!"
Zhou Hao lifted his leg and threw again—
"BOOM!!"
The Spiral Ball charged in and—
dropped sharply right before the plate.
Even Chris had to adjust his glove mid-catch to stop it.
"Strike!!! Strikeout!!!"
The entire stadium froze.
Oishibashi—the country's top slugger—
struck out without touching the ball even once.
Seibō's dugout was pale.
This was their strongest batter.
And he never even grazed the ball.
Next was their Fifth Batter—Shirasawa, the pitcher.
He was famous not only for pitching but also for batting.
A true dual-threat.
Seibō still had hopes resting on him.
In the dugout, the massive Akagi clasped his hands:
"Please, just… let Shirasawa touch the ball."
His teammate exploded:
"Idiot! Pray for a HIT!!"
"The gods have limits—" Akagi muttered.
But Zhou Hao didn't give him time to finish.
"BOOM!"
The pitch rocketed forward.
Shirasawa's eyes widened.
So fast.
So heavy.
So overwhelming.
This pitch could dominate even at the professional level.
And Seidō let Zhou Hao start the game?
Of course they did.
Just seeing this Spiral Ball would break most batters' spirits.
Even Shirasawa felt despair creeping into his chest.
He couldn't hit it.
He couldn't react.
He couldn't resist.
The ball whistled past—
"Strike!!"
Every fan—whether watching on TV or in the stands—
saw Shirasawa's numb, helpless expression.
If they were in his shoes,
they'd feel exactly the same.
How could anyone hit such a pitch?
Since the very first inning,
Zhou Hao had crushed the entire field.
Not by strategy.
Not by trickery.
But with pure, unstoppable force.
The Seibō players had trained specifically to face him.
And yet, after all that—
They could do nothing but take the beating.
Another pitch.
"BOOM!"
"Strike!!!"
Another.
"BOOM!!!"
"Strikeout!!!"
Two outs.
Shirasawa walked off, still stunned.
Then came Seibō's Sixth Batter—
a slugger known across the nation.
But even he—
Faced Zhou Hao's Spiral Ball…
And swung at nothing but air.
Repeatedly.
"Strike! Strike!! Strike!!! Strikeout!!!"
Three up.
Three down.
Another strikeout streak.
The Seidō supporters erupted.
"THREE UP, THREE DOWN!!!"
"Zhou Hao is insane today!!!"
Meanwhile—
The Seibō dugout was silent.
Their supporters in the stands stared in disbelief.
This wasn't a baseball game anymore.
It was a massacre.
Zhou Hao stood alone on the mound—
A storm in human form.
Crushing Seibō.
Crushing every batter.
Crushing the entire field.