Chapter 280: No-Fly Zone
Kawakami, who had only just regained a little resolve, was instantly knocked back to his fragile state by Carlos's sudden bunt attack.
At the same time, Seidou—who moments ago had been overwhelmed with adrenaline, forgetting fatigue and heat—was abruptly reminded of the scorching summer reality.
Miyuki immediately called for a battery timeout—and such timeouts had no usage limit.
"Sorry, Nori. I got fooled for a moment and didn't give the correct sign to guard the safety bunt. Man, this is a headache. The last person we wanted on base… ended up on base."
Miyuki apologized first—though his tone made it unclear if it sounded apologetic, everyone knew he meant it seriously.
Kawakami stiffly nodded, then looked toward first base—where Carlos stood.
This was no time to think about whose fault it was—
because the most troublesome runner was already on.
"Baka." Sendo muttered softly at Miyuki.
His voice carried frustration, but no resentment.
It was just a whisper—no one could hear it anyway.
"Anyway, as long as we don't leave openings here, Inashiro likely won't go for a sacrifice bunt. Leave the runner to me, and focus on the batter. Don't put too much pressure on yourself, Nori."
Miyuki patted Kawakami's shoulder.
....
"Second batter—shortstop, Shirakawa!"
"Speedster Carlos reaches base through a surprise bunt! And now the 2nd batter, Shirakawa, steps in!Can Seidou stop Inashiro's deadly 1–2 punch and claim victory?"
"Go, our prideful 1–2 combo!"
"Shirakawa! Keep pushing!"
"Carlos! Put pressure on them!"
"Just tie the score—one run is enough!"
Even Inashiro's bench wasn't asking for a miraculous comeback—they just needed one run.
That was the mentality of a king.
Seidou's era of intimidation had been six years ago.
"DON'T RUN AWAY! YOU IDIOT!"
Isashiki shattered the quiet from Seidou's side.
"Yeah! Don't flee, Kawakami!"
"Just two outs left!"
"Take them one by one!"
Shirakawa narrowed his eyes at Kawakami—
and Kawakami felt as if that gaze could see through everything he was thinking.
It was unsettling.
A gaze that inflicted mental damage.
Then Shirakawa mirrored Carlos—stepping forward to block the plate with his body.
"These guys…!"
Even Miyuki felt disgusted by their tactic.
They weren't doing anything illegal—but it was psychological warfare at its ugliest.
"One out… We absolutely must endure this, Nori."
....
The battle begins.
"Inside fastball? And…!"
"Don't think. Just throw at my mitt. If we pull this off…"
"WHOOSH!"
PING!
"Foul!"
"Dangerous! That could've been a solid hit! But this is enough."
POP!
"Ball!"
PING!
"Foul!"
POP!
"Ball!"
PING!
PING!
PING!
Whether it was a fastball or slider—Shirakawa stubbornly fouled everything off.
The count was full.
But that was exactly the kind of hitter Shirakawa was—a master of survival in the batter's box.
....
Miyuki made his decision.
"As expected… we need another inside pitch. This one—we'll let him hit it. This pitch, thrown correctly, will definitely go to that direction. Even if it's easy to hit, Shirakawa lacks power. He won't reach the fence. And that guy out there… is his natural predator. Our outfield defense is top-tier—you trust them too, right, Nori?"
They had thrown nothing but outside pitches until now—so giving him a rare "hittable" pitch was irresistible even for a cautious hitter like Shirakawa.
Miyuki smirked behind his mask.
When Kawakami saw Miyuki's sign—the "even if it's hit, it's okay" sign—he also smiled.
He wasn't like Sawamura or Furuya—baseball idiots who hit balls freely and aimlessly.
He understood the theory of ball trajectories—direction, distance, likelihood of fly balls.
Monsters like Sendo, who combined overwhelming athleticism with raw instinct, were rare.
Shirakawa had technique—but not power.
And Seidou's outfield was a fortress.
Miyuki's plan was clear—and Kawakami instantly calmed.
He lacked confidence in himself, but he had overwhelming confidence in Seidou's defense.
Confidence bordering on pride—maybe even arrogance.
"What an incredible game…What a secure defense behind me… I don't want this to be our last match!
I'm not ready to leave the mound! I want to keep fighting!"
No matter his personality, Kawakami was a true pitcher—and he did not want to surrender his mound.
....
"Whoosh!"
"It's here! Inside pitch! Perfect height…and easy to hit!"
CRACK!
"Center field!"
Miyuki called instantly—his voice overlapping with the sound of impact.
"YES!!"
Inashiro's bench roared.
But Carlos, who hadn't budged from first, gritted his teeth.
The moment he heard Miyuki's shout, the pitch type, and the sound off the bat—
Carlos knew the outcome.
The ball was well hit—but it didn't matter.
This was Seidou's center field—
THE NO-FLY ZONE.
"Great contact!"
Even Shirakawa felt convinced he got it—misled by the perfect hit feel.
But when he looked up…
He realized he was wrong.
Speed.
Angles.
Field intelligence.
Reaction time.
None of it mattered.
Because—
Sendo had already reached the spot.
He had sprinted a few steps, then slowed down,
turned around, and casually waited for the ball to fall.
The ball flew far—but still dozens of meters short of the home-run fence.
Sendo's short burst of speed was enough to get him there effortlessly.
POP!
"OUT!!!"
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