March, 2010.
Although spring has arrived, March in Tokyo is still bitingly cold.
A decent-sized crowd has gathered on a baseball field—looks like there's a practice match today.
The scoreboard next to the stands shows the current situation on the field:
Bottom of the ninth inning, the home team is leading 3:2, one out, runners on first and third, full count.
In this moment, the entire field is enveloped in a strange silence, with spectators clustering in small groups and their eyes fixated on the figure standing on the pitcher's mound—a young boy.
It's undeniable that the boy's physical talents are exceptional: at just fifteen or sixteen years old, he's nearly 190 cm tall; his looks aren't far behind, with sharply defined features that give him a rugged handsomeness.
But more captivating is the sight of the boy when pitching: he stomped the ground around the pitcher's mound, gripped the ball's seams tightly with his right hand, gathered all his strength, and lifted one leg off the ground to prepare to pitch—
Under everyone's gaze, the small baseball left the boy's fingertips, slicing the air like an arrow and tracing an arc before landing solidly in the catcher's mitt, right at the center of his receiving gesture.
Facing this lightning-fast pitch, the batter in the box didn't have time to react, unable even to swing his bat, standing there in stunned silence.
"Strike!" The umpire behind the catcher made an exaggerated gesture and shouted loudly.
The previously silent air buzzed with activity, with exclamations of "wow" and screams erupting around.
"Oh my god, a speed of 135 km/h! That's already on par with the ace pitchers of typical high school teams!" exclaimed spectators who followed baseball closely.
"It's bad enough that he's so good at baseball, but he's also that handsome? Come on, how are us average folks supposed to live?" lamented an ordinary-looking guy painfully.
"Ahhh! Such a handsome boy!!! Does anyone know him? What's his name? How old is he? Does he have a girlfriend? Ahhh!" the classic enthusiastic cries erupted.
Compared to the audience's strong reactions, Lin Guanglai himself didn't feel very excited—
After all, the bottom of the ninth inning is the most dangerous moment in a baseball game, and a single mistake could lead to a catastrophic error.
Besides, for today's game, Mr. Izumi from the Waseda Industrial School baseball team was personally there to assess his performance, and it concerned his future, so he couldn't afford any carelessness.
Shaking his head to clear his mind of complicated thoughts, Lin Guanglai began observing the batter in front of him.
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In a corner of the stands, Izumi Minoru muttered to himself while looking at the information in his hand:
"Lin Guanglai, 15 years old, height 187 cm, weight 68 kg. Right-hand pitcher and left-hand batter, Chinese."
"He came to Japan for formal training because of his talent for baseball, and he has not even entered high school yet, but his fastest pitch is already nearly 140 km/h."
If he hadn't just seen it with his own eyes, Izumi Minoru would indeed find it hard to believe that a middle school student could achieve this.
"Furthermore, based on my observations, although his pitch is fast, his control is also quite good, especially his slider, which is at a remarkably high level for a player of his age."
No sooner had he spoken, cheers erupted around again—Lin Guanglai had just used a high-quality slider to deceive the batter into swinging and missing.
Upon seeing this, Izumi Minoru stood up—
As the supervisor of the Waseda Industrial Baseball Club, he had been following the famous local talent Lin Guanglai for some time, and they'd discussed future academic plans several times;
For Izumi Minoru, last summer's Summer甲 regional selection defeat was still fresh in his memory—in last year's West Tokyo Conference, Waseda Industries, as a traditional powerhouse, was stopped in the fourth round: they suffered a devastating 0:10 loss to East Asia Academy.
And to secure Koshien participation rights in the competitive West Tokyo Region over the next few years, finding an arm full of talent was undoubtedly the top priority.
Watching today's game in person, Izumi's mind reached a conclusion: Lin Guanglai's current level of completion is already very high, fully capable of handling high school baseball; his potential is also clearly visible;
—Izumi Minoru privately resolved to secure this player, as he is undoubtedly a genius player capable of leading Waseda Real forward in the next three years!
Looking at the figure pitching on the field, for some reason, Izumi Minoru suddenly recalled that figure from the summer of 2006.
He had a vague premonition that Lin Guanglai, now standing on the field, would become someone no less than or perhaps even surpassing Saito Yuuki in the future.
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Bottom of the ninth inning, two outs, bases loaded.
Lin Guanglai took a deep breath, then rubbed his shoulder and arm, trying to relax his muscles.
—The recent walk was largely due to muscle tension resulting from high-intensity pitching throughout the nine innings.
The current situation on the field wasn't optimistic: although the opposing team had two outs, they were only one run behind.
With a bases-loaded disadvantage, the upcoming at-bat was the opposition's fifth batter, a left-handed hitter theoretically strong against right-handed pitchers. Even a slight mistake could ruin the efforts of the entire game.
In previous innings, Lin Guanglai had roughly figured out this batter's habits: the opponent loved to swing the bat hard but wasn't sensitive to changes in the pitch and lacked a defined hitting strategy, relying on instinct.
Targeting this characteristic, Lin Guanglai unsuspectingly changed his grip on the ball and confirmed the signal with the catcher behind home plate using hand gestures.
The baseball flew out of his hand, and a noticeable rubbing sensation came from the finger pads—it appeared to be an unremarkable fastball.
The batter in the box fixed his eyes on the ball, using all his strength to swing the bat vigorously.
Just as the baseball was about to cross the plate and collide heavily with the bat, its trajectory suddenly deviated, shifting toward the inside corner away from the batter.
—It was a cutter pitch!
Due to the pitch deviation, the anticipated heavy contact didn't occur.
Instead, the baseball glanced off the middle of the bat and hit the ground, then weakly drifted toward the middle of the space between first and second base.
The second baseman positioned between first and second base easily fielded the ball and threw it to first base. It was a simple, straightforward out.
Three outs, the game was over.
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Having just finished an intense game, Lin Guanglai walked off the pitcher's mound, briefly celebrated with his teammates, and then began his post-game stretching alone.
Due to scheduling, this practice game was very tight—having just finished semifinals in the morning, they would face the advancing team from the other bracket in the finals in the afternoon.
As the team's starting pitcher, Lin Guanglai's physical condition greatly influenced the team's defensive quality; moreover, he was someone who always paid attention to maintaining his body—having undergone baseball training from a young age, Lin Guanglai had developed an instinct to always monitor his physical state and actively take care of his body.
"Kenta, has the result of the other bracket's match come out? Who are we facing this afternoon? Do they have any players worth paying attention to?" Lin Guanglai asked, directing his inquiry towards the team's rest area.
The team's substitute player and manager, Tsuchiya Kenta, heard his question and replied calmly, "Oh, the results are out, but I feel like there's no need for you to worry too much, Guanglai."
"What do you mean?"
Chatting with his teammates, Tsuchiya Kenta shrugged and replied, "The opponent seems to be a team from the countryside of Iwate Prefecture, and their overall strength is not very strong. I think as long as we play normally, it should be quite easy for us to beat them and win the championship."
"If there's any player worth noting," Tsuchiya Kenta glanced at the information in his hand, "it should be the pitcher who also bats cleanup for their team—this team reaching the finals somewhat relies on that person's outstanding performance."
Hearing about such a player, Lin Guanglai became interested—after all, as a pitcher, one of his favorite things was to enjoy watching batters' disappointed expressions after they struck out; if the opponent happened to be a cleanup hitter, he'd feel even more satisfied.
So he eagerly asked Tsuchiya Kenta, "What's his name?"
Tsuchiya Kenta thought for a moment, "If I remember correctly, they're from Oomura City Waterzawa South Middle School, what's their name, let me see," Tsuchiya Kenta flipped through the papers in his hand, "Their name seems to be Ohtani Shohei."