Sunday. Clear skies.
Tokyo's largest baseball venue—Jingu Stadium—was already overflowing with people early in the morning. Streams of spectators poured in from every direction, forming long lines that snaked around the entrances. Vendors shouted enthusiastically, flags fluttered in the breeze, and the air buzzed with excitement long before the first pitch was thrown.
"Why are there so many people today?"
One spectator asked his companion in surprise as they were pushed forward by the crowd.
"What's so strange about it?" the other replied casually. "Today is Seido versus Inashiro."
"No wonder…"
The matchup between West Tokyo's two great powerhouses naturally attracted massive attention.
Among the two teams, one was the so-called uncrowned king of West Tokyo—Inashiro Industrial—widely expected to advance to Koshien even before the tournament began. The other was Seido High School, a team that had just defeated Ichidai Third High School and was riding a wave of unstoppable momentum.
Before the tournament started, this pairing might not have caused such a stir. But now, after both teams had proven their reputations through actual performance, especially Seido's dazzling showing against Ichidai San, this game had become the focal point of the entire tournament.
Neutral fans who had once watched from the sidelines were now fully invested.
This clash was destined to be spectacular.
The moment the Seido High School Baseball Team's bus arrived at the stadium entrance, dozens of reporters surged forward like a tidal wave. Cameras flashed nonstop, and microphones were thrust toward the front of the bus.
"Coach Kataoka, how do you view today's opponent?"
"Are your players confident they can win?"
"Some people online claim that Coach Kunimoto's coaching ability is equivalent to three of yours. What's your response?"
"According to insiders, a professional baseball manager is very interested in Azuma Kiyokuni. Has he already visited Seido? Have discussions begun?"
Seven or eight reporters spoke at once, their voices overlapping.
Zhang Han and the others were stunned.
Oh my goodness…
They had already witnessed the ferocity of reporters during the match against Ichidai Third High School, but compared to this, that scene now seemed tame.
Back then, it was merely lively. Now, it was downright overwhelming.
The microphones were practically being shoved into Kataoka's face.
Wearing sunglasses, Kataoka silently took half a step back, creating a small buffer between himself and the sea of microphones. His expression was calm but intimidating, and the reporters instinctively restrained themselves.
They didn't dare push further—but they didn't retreat either.
All eyes remained fixed on him. It was clear that brushing them off like last time was no longer an option.
"Inashiro Industrial is an excellent team," Kataoka said evenly. "Coach Kunimoto is a senior I deeply respect. Today's game will be a tough battle, and Seido will give everything we have."
His response was textbook-perfect.
Polite. Balanced. Impossible to criticize.
Zhang Han couldn't help but marvel.
"Wow… our Director actually has this skill?" he muttered.
In his original impression, Kataoka was gentle on the inside—but outwardly cold and unsmiling. And when it came to discipline, he was absolutely ruthless.
"Nonsense," someone whispered back. "Our Director is a proper teacher."
Only then did Zhang Han truly pause.
That's right. Kataoka wasn't just the baseball team's Director—he was also a second-year Japanese language teacher.
"I really wouldn't have guessed," Zhang Han said in amazement.
Teaching was already exhausting enough—lesson planning, lectures, grading assignments. And Japanese language, as a core subject, carried an especially heavy workload.
On top of that, directing the baseball club was another high-pressure responsibility. Zhang Han genuinely couldn't imagine one person excelling at both roles simultaneously.
"No wonder he looks almost forty even though he's not even thirty," Zhang Han whispered. "He really has too much on his shoulders."
The Seido teammates struggled to hold back their laughter.
"Don't talk nonsense," Miyuki said flatly. "The Director looks thirty-five at most."
"Enough," Tanaka added, suppressing a grin. "Show some respect. If you keep slandering him, I'm reporting you."
Laughing and joking, the group entered the stadium together. They were relaxed—far from looking like a team about to fight a life-or-death battle. That composure perfectly reflected how much the Seido players had grown during this tournament.
Especially after defeating Ichidai Third High School.
That victory had impacted them on multiple levels, but the most important change was confidence.
Before the tournament, Seido's players had been plagued by doubt. Too many setbacks, too many failures—especially Chris's injury—had cast a shadow over the team.
At one point, defeat seemed inevitable. But after enduring the test of time and facing strong opponents head-on, they had realized something important.
Their strength hadn't diminished.
It had increased—dramatically.
With that realization, fear no longer existed. They believed they could defeat any opponent.
Inashiro Industrial was no exception.
On the other side of the field, the Inashiro players—who had arrived more than ten minutes earlier—were already seated calmly in their dugout. Uniforms changed, gear prepared, expressions steady.
From the footage, they knew their opponent would be troublesome. But that didn't bother them in the slightest.
As the long-standing overlords of West Tokyo, they had faced countless challengers over the years. Some had defeated them, yes—but far more often, Inashiro was the team that stood at the end.
They had absolute confidence in themselves.
After observing his players silently for several minutes, Kunimoto finally spoke.
"Get ready to go out."
In Seido's dugout, Azuma Kiyokuni stood first. He slapped his stomach heavily, producing a loud thump.
"Let's go!"
All twenty First-string players rose in unison, lining up neatly as they headed toward the tunnel leading to the field.
The door was pulled open.
Sunlight flooded in, illuminating every face.
For an instant, the entire Seido lineup seemed bathed in gold. Zhang Han followed his teammates onto the field in single file.
The moment he stepped onto Jingu Stadium, two thoughts struck him at once.
First—it's huge.
A stadium capable of holding tens of thousands of people stretched endlessly before him, as if it contained the entire world.
Second—there are so many people.
The stands along first base and third base were packed to the brim. Without even counting, Zhang Han knew there were tens of thousands of spectators watching.
Playing in front of such a crowd—
The feeling was incredible. Zhang Han felt more excited than ever before.
Even during his time at the national tournament with Matsukata Senior League, he had never experienced this intensity. The stadium back then had been large, but the audience couldn't compare to this sea of humanity.
As the announcer's voice thundered across the field—
"The West Tokyo Regional Baseball Tournament, Semifinal Game One—Seido High School versus Inashiro Industrial—officially begins!!!"
The battle for Koshien had truly begun.
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