Chapter 229: My Gut Tells Me I Can Hit It!!
"Ball!"
Although Furuya took a step back, Harada crouched behind the plate, clearly displeased.
He just couldn't appreciate his partner's poor sense of humor.
"When both sides are testing their endurance, there's no need to add unnecessary pitches, you idiot!"
Narumiya Mei could tell just by looking at his senior's expression—he was fuming.
"Could you please relax? I still need to pitch…"
Narumiya wasn't particularly bothered. He didn't place full trust in his partner either, especially when it came to minor pitch decisions. They often clashed.
But to Narumiya, this wasn't a bad thing.
On the contrary—
He believed that their disagreements proved they were both thinking critically.
If either of them stopped thinking or chose not to engage, then the other could simply go along with whatever was decided.
The fact that they both had independent thought meant these arguments were inevitable.
"It's fine. Even if I waste a pitch on this guy, it's worth it."
Narumiya's respect for Furuya was obvious.
Of course, part of it was personal.
When Narumiya was in the batter's box, that first-year rookie had given him a tough time.
Now that Narumiya was on the mound, he had the chance for payback—and he wasn't going to hold back.
But that wasn't the only reason.
There was another.
Furuya's batting ability and performance were undeniable.
His skill at the plate was clear to everyone.
To put it simply, if the first-year "monster" didn't have elite-level batting ability, Seidou's coaches wouldn't have put him in the fifth spot of the lineup.
After all, that's a key position.
It was previously held by third-year slugger Masuko Tooru, a powerful clean-up hitter.
Even across all of West Tokyo, Masuko was a well-known, standout player.
Yet now, Masuko had been moved to sixth.
And Miyuki, who was also a strong hitter, was pushed to seventh.
This reality spoke for itself.
From Narumiya's perspective, dealing with such a formidable opponent—wasting one or two extra pitches—was well worth it as long as he could neutralize him.
"Come on, let's see what you've got."
Narumiya stood tall, fixing Furuya with a piercing stare.
He exuded the confidence of someone in total control of the game, as if he could eliminate his opponent at any moment.
Narumiya wound up and threw the pitch with full force.
Boom!
The ball tore through the air, roaring loudly.
In the batter's box, Furuya narrowed his eyes at the incoming pitch.
"Fast!"
The game had reached its halfway point.
No matter how well they maintained their condition, it stood to reason that they couldn't return to the level they were at when the game first began.
In other words, with their energy already partially spent, it was only natural that the pitchers' form would decline.
Their pitch quality would drop, their velocity would slow down…
It was almost a given.
Yet, in that very moment, the sight on the mound was astonishing: the pitcher, Narumiya Mei, had just thrown a pitch at his peak velocity! It was as if he had returned to his prime form.
Whoosh!
Furuya wasn't going to stand idly by. He swung his bat, aiming straight at the incoming pitch.
Despite his awkward swing, his raw power was overwhelming. The force behind his bat was downright intimidating.
Whoosh…
But even such an imposing swing failed to connect with the ball.
His timing was off.
The ball whizzed past and into the strike zone.
Pop!
"Strike!"
Furuya's bat had missed, and the count now stood at one ball, one strike.
On the enormous digital scoreboard, the velocity flashed: 151 kilometers per hour.
Already known as an intimidating presence, this "Prince of Tokyo" seemed even more terrifying now.
Seidou's players instinctively frowned. They understood the gravity of the situation all too well.
"Isn't his endurance a bit… over the top?"
It wasn't just Seidou's players. The fans in the stands gasped as well.
More than halfway into the game, and yet the ace pitcher of Inashiro Industrial was still unleashing such speed? It defied common sense.
The audience murmured in confusion and disbelief, but Inashiro's own players didn't find it unusual.
Harada, crouched behind the plate, recalled the past two months of training with his partner.
Strength training, stamina drills…
All for this moment. All for beating Seidou and Furuya.
Narumiya had poured every ounce of effort into preparing for this game.
Though Narumiya would never openly admit it, deep down he knew that Furuya's raw talent outshone his own.
Some people were simply born gifted, and Furuya was undoubtedly one of them.
This difference in natural ability was enough to make anyone speechless.
But even knowing this, Narumiya never once gave up.
To prepare for this showdown, to overcome Seidou and Furuya, he had worked relentlessly to eliminate every weakness in his game.
If pure velocity wasn't enough to surpass his opponent, he would rely on his all-around skills.
On that front, Narumiya was supremely confident.
He firmly believed that as long as he was on the mound, he could conquer any opponent.
Furuya included.
Whoosh!
After securing a strike, Narumiya wasted no time delivering the third pitch.
This one seemed even faster than the last.
In the stands, die-hard Seidou fans were on edge, their nerves pushed to the limit.
"Damn that guy!"
The ace of Inashiro Industrial High School—just how hard was he to deal with?
Seidou High's diehard supporters had mentally prepared themselves well in advance.
But when Narumiya Mei finally stepped onto the mound and began throwing pitches, those loyal fans still couldn't help but furrow their brows.
The opposition was proving even more formidable than they had anticipated.
Even Furuya, who often delivered surprising performances at the plate, seemed completely overpowered.
And just as everyone thought that, Furuya took another swing.
This time, he swung with all his might, aiming squarely at the pitch.
His timing was flawless, and with his raw power, he should have been able to send the ball flying.
All he needed was to make contact.
But just as the pitch entered the strike zone, it abruptly dropped.
The sharpness and speed of the break left everyone in stunned silence.
Furuya realized what was happening and tried to adjust by lowering his bat.
But while his brain registered the movement, his body couldn't keep up.
The ball zipped past him, clean through the strike zone, and into the catcher's mitt.
Pop!
"Strike!"
The count was now one ball, two strikes.
The batter was backed into a corner.
In the Inashiro dugout and the stands filled with their supporters, cheers erupted.
"Amazing! This is incredible!"
From Inashiro's perspective, this was what it meant to have unstoppable momentum.
"After all, he's still just a first-year rookie…"
"No matter how scary his pitching is, certain things can't be taught by experience alone."
Narumiya's outstanding performance filled his teammates and fans with newfound hope.
From their standpoint, it seemed only natural that they would win.
After all, with their ace throwing like this, why wouldn't they come out on top?
And the man on the mound, Narumiya Mei, felt the same.
As he backed Furuya into a corner, he looked like someone in complete control.
"Just one more strike!"
Crouched behind the plate, Harada decisively signaled the next pitch.
"He hasn't fully adjusted to your pitches yet. Don't waste the count—finish him now!"
In that moment, Harada showed no hesitation.
Narumiya, seeing his senior's sign, nodded repeatedly.
"That's exactly right! You have to finish them off in one go—don't leave them any room to breathe."
At this stage of the tournament, every opponent was undeniably strong.
But they also shared one obsessive, almost pathological drive for victory.
As long as it wasn't against the rules, they were willing to do whatever it took to win.
From Narumiya's perspective, wasting pitches was pointless.
The best course was to confront Furuya head-on and put him away.
And if they faced him directly at this moment, their chances of winning were exceedingly high.
It was simple logic:
Right now, Furuya was off-balance.
He couldn't even predict what kind of pitch was coming next.
Without that knowledge, facing a 150-kilometer-per-hour fastball left him utterly on the defensive.
"This pitch will finish you!"
Narumiya had made up his mind.
Standing in the batter's box, Furuya's face bore a bitter smile.
All he had wanted to do was get a better read on Narumiya Mei.
But before he realized it, three pitches had flown by.
During that time, Furuya had swung, trying to make contact with the ball.
Unfortunately, he hadn't succeeded.
This clearly meant that if it came down to a direct confrontation, Furuya was no match for Narumiya.
And it wasn't just him—most of Seidou's players were in the same situation.
In the innings leading up to this point, they had all faced off against Inashiro's ace at some point, and the outcome was clear.
Each of them had, in varying degrees, come up short.
"I can't rely on my current batting skills to hit that ball," Furuya thought.
Even though it wasn't his preferred approach, he found himself mentally shifting gears.
He cleared his mind completely.
No overthinking, no analysis—just pure, unfiltered instinct.
Normally, Furuya wasn't one to swing with such an unscientific approach.
He preferred to find patterns, to make deliberate, calculated decisions.
But there was no room for that here.
Narumiya had cornered him.
At this point, Furuya didn't see another option.
If he wanted a shot at hitting the ball, he'd have to trust his instincts.
And strangely enough, once he adopted this method, a strange confidence took hold.
Somehow, he felt certain he could make contact.
"Could this really work?" he wondered.
The notion felt absurd—almost eerie.
To swing without control, yet feel assured the ball would fly off his bat?
Even Furuya found it uncanny.
For a fleeting moment, he worried it might be false confidence, a bad omen.
Just then, Narumiya delivered his next pitch.
It wasn't the finishing blow, but an inside slider.
Narumiya, as Inashiro's ace, wasn't about to go for something straightforward.
His approach was calculated—he aimed the pitch at a spot that would be tough for Furuya to reach.
Even if Furuya managed to make contact, it would likely result in a foul ball.
This was Narumiya's double-layered insurance.
Against most batters, such precautions would be unnecessary.
But Furuya wasn't an ordinary opponent.
Narumiya had to carefully consider every pitch, both its placement and its speed.
The white ball blurred as it raced toward the plate, and even the most loyal Seidou supporters in the stands wore strained expressions.
It looked like their untouchable hero, the "Demon King" was about to face humiliation.
Then, out of nowhere, Furuya moved.
There was no hint, no warning—he simply swung.
"Too early? Is he panicking?"
The fans in the stands buzzed with speculation.
But in that moment, Furuya had already unleashed his swing.
"Fly!" he thought.
PING!
The bat made solid contact, sending the ball soaring.
Inashiro's infielders scrambled to intercept it.
One leapt, glove outstretched, but missed by mere centimeters.
All they could do was watch helplessly as the ball sailed away.
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