Zhou Hao's confidence didn't come from nowhere.
The moment he stepped onto the mound, a familiar system prompt echoed in his mind:
"Congratulations, host. Rasengan upgraded to Level 3."
For a second, Zhou Hao was stunned. He had sensed his Spiral Ball growing sharper with every outing, but reaching the next tier so quickly? That was beyond his expectations.
His Straight Ball had plateaued—Kunai Straight Throwing Technique maxed at Level 3 until new variations unlocked. But the Spiral Ball was different. Its potential stretched far higher.
Levels 1 to 3: Ordinary Rasengan.
Levels 4 to 6:Big Ball Rasengan.
Levels 7 to 9: Rasen-Shuriken.
If he reached the peak, even Major League sluggers would be powerless against it.
And now, facing Osaka Kiryu's monsters, Zhou Hao had no intention of backing down. Kuroda and Sato had embarrassed him earlier, but that only sharpened his resolve.
Chris, however, was cautious. "There are still three innings left. Even if your Spiral Ball has changed, what about your stamina? That breaking pitch drains you just as much as before."
Zhou Hao's eyes blazed. "Don't worry. I'll last until the end."
Chris studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. As a catcher, he knew the importance of respecting a pitcher's conviction. Forcing his own judgment could break rhythm and confidence. Right now, Zhou Hao's determination was unshakable.
"Then let's do it," Chris said, crouching low, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
On the mound, Zhou Hao lifted his leg, arm cocked at a slight bend.
Sato immediately narrowed his eyes. A Spiral Ball again?
It was the pitch that had both shocked and punished Kiryu earlier. Zhou Hao had given up his first run on it. Surely, after being hit out twice, he wouldn't dare use it again—unless he was reckless enough to challenge fate head-on.
Then I'll crush him again.
Sato tightened his grip, waiting.
Zhou Hao unleashed with all his strength.
"Boom!"
The pitch tore through the air. From the stands, it looked sharper, faster, heavier. Even the Kiryu players frowned.
Illusion? No… it's different.
Sato swung with everything he had—
"Whoosh!"
—but the ball was already past him, exploding into Chris's mitt with a resounding thud.
"Strike!"
Gasps filled the stadium. Then someone pointed to the electronic scoreboard.
"Look at the speed!"
148 km/h.
The Spiral Ball's velocity had jumped, its bite fiercer than ever.
Matsumoto Takahiro's expression darkened. He immediately understood the implications.
On the field, Sato's pupils shrank. That pitch felt like a bullet—impossible to time, impossible to track.
But Zhou Hao wasn't done.
"Boom!"
The second Spiral Ball shot out, nearly identical, yet sharper. Sato lashed out, desperate—
Thud!
"Strike two!"
The count shifted to 0–2.
Zhou Hao didn't hesitate, didn't nibble around the edges. His third pitch blazed straight into the zone.
Too arrogant! Sato thought. If you throw it here, I'll—
But as he swung, the ball suddenly dipped, spinning away at the last instant. His bat whistled through empty air.
Thud!
"Strike three!"
"Strikeout!"
The Seidou supporters erupted, their voices shaking the stands.
"I told you Zhou Hao's Spiral Ball was fine!"
"Kiryu's cleanup hitter couldn't even touch it!"
"If it was hit out before, that just means Zhou Hao was holding back. Now that he's serious, they don't stand a chance!"
The Osaka Kiryu dugout wasn't so sure. Some of the players wondered the same—had Zhou Hao concealed his true strength?
But Manager Matsumoto's frown deepened. No, this wasn't about holding back. Something had changed.
And that change threatened to swing the game.
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